Gordon explained the DNA samples and fingerprints he’d collected during interviews. “If you run those as well, they’ll serve as your exemplars. Or, I can call the studio, see if they’ll authorize their private lab to run the additional tests, if you can’t handle it right away. With the understanding the job’s not court-ready until the paperwork is done, of course. But these people are going to be leaving here soon, and the more information I have, the better the odds we can find our suspect before everyone disappears.”
After a drawn-out sigh, as though a balloon was deflating, Xander responded. “My wife’ll kill me—I told her I’d be back by noon—but our kid’s got a stomach bug, and I figure making it up to her later beats dealing with puke and crap all day.”
“As if you don’t do it on the job?” Gordon said.
“Yeah, but that’s evidence. It doesn’t cry, and cling, and puke on you. It’s just there. And I don’t think I can sit through Frozen one more time.”
Gordon grinned and left it at that. The guy’s relationship with his wife was none of Gordon’s business. Which, of course, had him thinking about what it would be like if he and Angie had kids, and who would be the one taking off work when they were sick.
Save it for when it becomes an issue. Hell, you haven’t even thought about a ring yet.
But the fact that he was thinking about not thinking about it meant he was thinking about it. He’d screwed up once with Cynthia, and didn’t want to screw up a second time. Solving a murder was much less complicated than dealing with a relationship.
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