As soon as Roach left the kitchen again, Rook stood and took a step toward Nikki. "Seriously. I've missed you."

If his step closer was meant as body English, she had some nonverbal cues of her own. Detective Heat turned her back to him, got out her reporter's-cut notebook and a pen, and put her face to a new page. But she knew herself well enough to know the chill message she wanted to send was as much to herself as to him. "What time did you discover the body?"

"About six-thirty. Listen, Nikki…"

"How close to six-thirty? Do you have a more accurate idea of the time?"

"I got here exactly at six-thirty. Did you get any of my e-mails?"

"Got here, as in 'in the room to discover her,' or got here, as in 'outside'?"

"Outside."

"And how did you get in?"

"The door was open. Just as you found it."

"So you walked right in?"

"No. I knocked. Then called out. I saw the mess up the hall and went in to see if she was all right. I thought maybe a burglar had been here."

"Did you ever think someone else could have been in here?"

"It was quiet. So I went in."

"That was brave."

"I have my moments, you may recall."

Nikki looked as if she was focused on a notation but really she was replaying the night in the hallway of the Guilford last summer when Noah Paxton used Rook as a human shield, and how, even though he had a gun in his back, he still put a body slam on Paxton that gave Heat a clean shot. She looked up and said, "Where was she when you found her?"

"Right where she is now."

"You didn't move her in any way?"

"No."

"Did you touch her?"

"No."

"How did you know she was dead?"