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Holcombe’s behavior during the collection of the body that was all wrong. Playing the scene over again in my head, it suddenly hit me—he hadn’t so much as glanced at the dead man’s face. As a veteran lawman, it wasn’t likely Holcombe was squeamish, so why had he studiously avoided looking at the corpse—particularly when the man was thus far unidentified?
    Kitchener shoved his head beneath my hand and I scratched his muzzle. “It doesn’t make any sense, Kitch.
    But, you know what? Solving murders isn’t my job any more. Remind me of that the next time I want to play Sherlock Holmes.”
    I went upstairs and found Ash in the bathroom, wrapped in a blue cotton bath sheet and staring into the mirror as she blow-dried her damp hair. As I told the story, she clenched her jaw and her eyes narrowed.
    “He said what ?”
    “You heard right. I’m intruding because I have a desperate need to prove my manhood.”
    “That little creep. What did you say to him?”
    “Nothing. I was too mad and I could tell he wasn’t bluffing about arresting me. Besides, what if he’s right?”
    “You don’t actually believe him?”
    “I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe I was trying to impress everyone.” I looked at the floor. “I was a cop most of my adult life and what am I now?”
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    John J. Lamb
    “You’re my partner in our new business and the man I love more than life. And I have absolutely no questions about your manhood.” She lifted my chin and leaned close to give me a long, slow kiss.
    When I caught my breath, I said, “I don’t know if I’m entirely convinced. Maybe there’s something else we could do to bolster my fragile male ego.”
    Ash chuckled and stroked my cheek with the back of her hand. “I’d love to, but we’re running out of time, honey. Tonight?”
    “Okay, but in the meantime I’m going to need a cold shower.”
    Later, as I was shaving and Ash was getting dressed, she said, “You know, I thought of a new name for our teddy bear business last night.”
    “I thought you liked Ashleigh’s Menagerie.”
    “It’s okay, but I told you, I don’t want it to be just my name.”
    “Sweetheart, you are the gifted teddy bear artist and I’m the happy and somewhat dimwitted sidekick. It should be just your name.”
    “How about, Lyon’s Tigers and Bears?”
    “Oh, my,” I added and looked from the mirror to Ash.
    “Hey, that’s inspired. In fact, it’s so good . . .”
    “That some other teddy bear artisan must already have it as a business name?” Ash began tucking a cream-colored turtleneck pullover into her russet-colored slacks.
    “That’s what I thought too, so I searched on the Internet last night. It doesn’t look as if anyone else is using it.”
    “I like it a lot. It’s cute, clever, and easy to remember.”
    “And it’s both of our names.”
    “We’ve still got some card stock. Would you like me to make some business cards before we go?”
    “I already did it last night.” Ash put on a navy blue woolen sweater decorated with brightly colored The Mournful Teddy
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    embroidered autumn leaves. “Honey, I’m going to go bring the truck around to the front door and start loading the crates. Thank goodness we packed the tables and chairs last night because it’s getting a little late.”
    “I’ll be down in a second to help.”
    As I got dressed, I heard Ash drive our Nissan Xterra from the detached garage to the front door. Back in San Francisco we’d never owned a SUV nor had wanted one, but we definitely needed a four-wheel-drive truck here in the country. Downstairs, the front door opened and I heard Ash tell Kitchener to move out of the way as she carried a plastic crate containing the bears out to the Xterra.
    Going down to the living room, I grabbed the Fuji digital camera and turned it on. The battery icon indicated half-strength, which from experience I knew meant I might be able to take two flash photos before the camera shut down. Ash came in the house