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“Stairs are fine.” She started up them behind him. “I used to work homicide in San Diego, so I’ve worked with Dr. Chavez and her staff.”

“So you weren’t always a Fibbie.”

“No, that’s a fairly recent change.”

“What did you call Dr. Chavez about?” By the time the chief reached the top of the stairs, he was breathing heavily

“I needed to let her know to check for gado.”

He pushed the door open. “Gado?”

“It’s a possibility. I told her she could send the samples to our lab. No need for the town or the county to cover that expense.”

“That’s…” He stiffened, his voice trailing off.

His bulk completely blocked her view. “What is it?”

He spun around, his face distorted by fury. “You—you—I knew I’d heard your name someplace! Trying to make out like you’re so professional—well, that won’t work now!”

His face was so red the freckles had disappeared. “Maybe you should calm down. That can’t be good for your blood pressure.”

She thought he’d explode. “You—”

Rule’s voice, smooth as silk, came from the other side of the furious man. “Congratulations on that promotion, Pete. Lily’s right. You want to watch your blood pressure. I’d recommend anger management therapy.”

Daly pulled himself together, but the color stayed high in his face. He didn’t say a word. His hands were fisted at his sides as he marched off down the short hall.

Rule watched him, a small smile on his mouth, his hands shoved casually in the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were snake-cold.

The hall they were in seemed to be part of the administrative section. Lily could hear voices from an open doorway at one end; three closed doors studded the hall in the direction Daly took. He marched to a door at that end, jerked it open, and let it slam behind him.

“Oh, geez,” Lily muttered. “Why didn’t you warn me the two of you had a history? I had him ready to cooperate. Then he saw you.”

“I said that the cops here weren’t trustworthy. You didn’t ask how I knew.” Rule was still watching the door Daly had used. Slowly his gaze shifted to her. “Five years ago, Pete Daly—he was a detective at the time—tried to beat Steve to death. A difficult task, considering how fast we heal, but he did his best.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Well, he’s a bastard, then, and a disgrace to the uniform, but what did you do to him? Because that isn’t the way a man reacts to someone he despises. Despises would mean he won, and he didn’t. He’s scared shitless of you.”

“Ah.” Now Rule looked at her, and his smile turned genuine. “Very insightful. To answer your question, I did nothing to Pete. How could I? He was an officer of the law. I was newly and publicly revealed as a lupus. I did nothing to him…over and over and over.”

She studied him a moment. He was truly relaxed now. Before he’d faked it, posing to look at ease in the presence of his enemy, announcing how little he considered Daly a threat.

Dominance games. He was good at them. “You stalked him,” she announced.

His smile widened. “I do love your twisty mind. How did—” A door opened in the short hall and a middle-aged woman glanced at them as she emerged from the office. “Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere,” Rule murmured and took Lily’s hand.

“Quit that.” She pulled her hand free. “I can’t wander around holding hands when I’m investigating. You ever see a cop holding hands on duty? Or an FBI agent,” she remembered to add. The woman click-clicked her four-inch heels down the hall toward the door Daly had used. “Come on. Explain while we head to the car. You can start by telling me why you were here waiting for me. Or for Chief Daly?”

“That’s simple enough. I spoke with Jason’s former supervisor, as I told you I planned to do, but she’s on shift and couldn’t give me much time.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I asked. I suppose you heard Daly talking to me on the stairs and that gave you time to pose for him. What did you learn from Chance’s former supervisor? Was he or she responsible for him getting fired?”

Rule opened the door, holding it for her. “No, and they remained friends afterward.”

The hall opened onto the hospital lobby with a Pink Lady station, tiny gift shop, the main exit, and a couple elevators. “He was fired after coming out as a lupus, you said.”

“Jason didn’t announce it openly the way Steve did. He simply stopped hiding certain things, such as his visits to Clanhome, and let others draw their own conclusions. They did. He was fired.”

“He found another job pretty quickly.” He’d moved to San Diego for it, but Rule said he returned to Del Cielo sometimes to see Hilliard, who’d lived here. He’d been here on such a visit when Steve was killed.

“The nursing shortage,” Rule said dryly, “is acute. His current employers don’t want to know if their suspicions about him are true, and Jason doesn’t speak of Clanhome at work.”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“I always ask.”

Rule’s grin flashed. “I know.”

“Like right now, I’m asking why you brought me to the elevator instead of the exit.”

He pushed the third-floor button. “So you could speak with Jason’s former supervisor, too. She’s a lovely older woman named Lupe. I thought she might be able to alibi him, and that he, for chivalrous reasons, had failed to mention this to the police.”

Lily quirked an eyebrow. “She’s that kind of friend?”

“Unlike you, I don’t always ask. But if their relationship did include intimacy, it would be very like Jason to protect her by concealing that.”

The elevator door opened. Three people got out; Lily followed Rule on. He usually took elevators even though he hated them. More like because he hated them. They were so small. “You like Jason.”

“I do.”

“Since you didn’t open your story with the alibi, I take it there isn’t one.”

“Unfortunately, no. He did stop by to see her, but he did so here at the hospital, while she was at work. Since it’s believed Steve was killed at night…unless that has changed?”

“I did get that much confirmed by Daly,” she said, irritated all over again. “Between eleven and three a.m., he said. Getting anything else is going to be like pulling teeth. I’ll pull them, but it won’t be fun. Why do I want to talk to Lupe? And what’s her last name?”

“Lupe Valdez. You’ll talk to her because she’s Robert Friar’s nearest neighbor.”

“Robert Friar? The guy who started Humans First?”

“Yes. She tells me that Chief Daly is a member.”

Chapter 4

Lupe Valdez, the senior charge nurse in orthopedics, was around fifty and maybe twenty pounds overweight, with thin lips, an asymmetric nose, and a weak chin. Even in her shining youth, most people probably wouldn’t have called her lovely.

But her hair was glorious—thick and black, worn long and pinned up. Her smile was warm, and she moved with the lightness of a dancer. To Rule, she undoubtedly was lovely.

Lily wondered if Lupe smelled lovely, too. Lupi were a lot more scent-oriented than humans. “Ms. Valdez, I appreciate your willingness to talk with me.” She held out a hand.

“Lupe,” the woman said, taking Lily’s hand without hesitation and giving a brisk shake. “Call me Lupe. I’m glad if anything I can tell you helps Jason. You want some coffee?”

They were in the crowded alcove that served as a break room. Lily glanced at the coffeepot, thought it looked reasonably fresh, and decided to take a chance. “Sure. Thanks. Black, please.”