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day from now until next Christmas. “I played cards with my neighbors until after ten.”
    “Then what?”
    “Okay, I’m trying to be cooperative here, but you’re going to have to tell me why you’re asking all these questions—at two in the morning.”
    “Jason Spencer was found stabbed to death under the staircase outside your door on the first floor of this building tonight. It’s a pretty big coincidence he had your name and phone number in his pocket, don’t ya think?”
    She gasped, ignoring the sarcasm. “Someone was murdered in this building?”
    “Yes, ma’am, and he had your information on his person.”
    “Look, I’m telling you I have no idea who this man is.”
    Calhoun reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a Polaroid. When he handed it to Jordan, she caught her breath. She’d never seen a dead man before, and if she were lucky, she’d never see another. The camera had caught rivulets of dark blood spreading over the concrete floor next to the young man. A closer look showed his eyes fixed in the same grotesque stare of death she’d often seen on cop shows.
    “Ohmygod!” She dropped the picture and stepped back.
    It was J. T.

CHAPTER 4

    Calhoun caught Jordan when she swayed and led her to the couch. “Sit,” he commanded.
    “That’s J. T.,” Jordan repeated, sure her face was as white as the other cop’s notepad.
    “So, you do know him?” Calhoun walked to the chair opposite Jordan and sat down. “And what was he to you? A colleague? A boyfriend?”
    Jordan’s eyes widened. “No,” she protested. “I only met him yesterday.” She paused. “Actually, two days ago,” she added, glancing toward the ornate clock hanging above the opening dividing the tiny living room from the even smaller kitchen. Victor had given it to her only last week. Said it was collecting dust and taking up valuable space at the antiques store.
    “Hopefully, this won’t take much longer, ma’am,” Calhoun said, noticing her gaze toward the clock.
    “We’ll finish up fast if you’re honest and open and don’t try to hide anything,” Rutherford interjected. “Trust me, we’ll find out if you’re lying.”
    Calhoun shot him a warning look before turning back to Jordan. “Jason,” he began, before correcting himself. “J. T. lived in McKinley and had a student ID card from Grayson County College in his wallet. You a student there?”
    Jordan shook her head. “I’m a reporter for the Globe .” She would never get tired of calling herself that.
    Officer Rutherford took a step closer, writing madly on the notepad. Glancing up, he narrowed his eyes, turning his eyebrows into a V at the top of his nose. He reminded Jordan of a banana, tall and lanky, curving slightly at the top.
    “You said you only met the deceased on Thursday. What exactly was your relationship to him?”
    “There wasn’t one.” Jordan threw up her hands. “He waited on me at Longhorn Prime Rib. I didn’t even know his name was Jason.”
    All three glanced toward the door when there was a sudden knock. Drawing his weapon, Calhoun motioned to Rutherford to move to the opposite side as he approached and slowly opened the door.
    Rosie ran into the room, oblivious to the two automatic weapons pointed in her direction. “Oh, honey, isn’t it just awful?” She eased down beside Jordan. “A mugging right here in our building.”
    Calhoun stepped closer. “What makes you think it was a mugging?”
    “What else could it be?” Rosie answered, throwing the officer a how-dumb-are-you look. “You can put away the canons now. This isn’t an episode of Law and Order .”
    Rutherford glared, holstering his weapon. “Oh, I don’t know, ma’am. Maybe Miss McAllister here had a quarrel with her lover. Maybe he broke it off, and she wasn’t real happy about it.”
    Jordan straightened up. “I already told you I just met him.” She slumped back into the sofa cushions as Rosie patted her hand.
    “So, why would a man you