Double Minds by Terri Blackstock Page A

ham.”
    “How old is it?”
    She grunted. “Would I offer you something spoiled?”
    “I don’t know. I get you and Tom mixed up.” Tom was his lazy, inconsiderate, womanizing roommate.
    “Yeah, I see how that could happen.”
    So Gibson and his roommate hadn’t yet reconciled. Which meant Gibson would be staying awhile.
    “So how did Chase seem?” Gibson asked. “I have to go talk to him again today.”
    “Sad. Upset.”
    “Did you see his hand?”
    “Yeah. He put it through the wall when he heard about her murder.”
    He shook his head. “Something’s not right about that.”
    She got the ham out of the fridge and checked the expiration date, just to make sure. “What do you mean?”
    “Well, her roommate said Brenna was studying at Colgate Studios last night because she—Marta—was rehearsing in her room.”
    “Right.”
    “And she said Brenna didn’t go to Chase’s because he was in class.”
    “Yeah,” she said, looking for the mayonnaise in the refrigerator door shelf.
    “He had that swollen hand when he went to class that night.”
    She found the jar and looked back at him. “Are you sure?”
    He nodded. “And that was before the murder. I talked to his professor to verify his story, and he’d noticed it.”
    Parker sucked in a breath. “But why would he lie about that?”
    “Why do you think?”
    No, that couldn’t be right. She didn’t see murder in Chase’s eyes. “Gibson, don’t waste time pursuing him. He’s a nice guy.”
    “Parker, most killers don’t act like killers. He’s also a liar. You should stay away from him.”
    That churning in her stomach began again. “Maybe there’s some other explanation. Maybe it has nothing to do with the killing. Did he have gun powder residue on his hands?” Her eyes widened. “Or in his car. Did you check his car?”
    Gibson rolled his eyes. “I should’ve never let you help me study for that exam.”
    “You didn’t let me. You begged me.”
    “But I didn’t expect you to memorize the textbook. Yes, we checked all those things. No gunpowder residue.”
    “Well, there you go.”
    “He still lied. That’s suspicious. I’m telling you, something stinks.”
    She opened the mayo and sniffed the contents. She put the sandwich together on a plate, then shoved it across the counter. “He didn’t kill her,” she said. “He’s so distraught he can’t even think straight.”
    “I mean it, Parker. Whether you’ve exonerated the guy in your mind or not, don’t go near him again. You’re going to make me lose my job.”
    She thought of taking the sandwich back. “Me? How?”
    “You’re intimately involved in the case, which gives me a conflict of interest, according to the chief.”
    “So did he take it away from you?”
    “No, he gave me a few days. He’ll renege on that if he finds out my little sister is going around trying to solve the stupid case for me.”
    “I’m not trying to solve the case. You don’t have to worry.”
    She saw the despondent slump of Gibson’s shoulders as he dropped to the couch, his plate on his lap. He bit off a third of the sandwich, as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe she should make another one.
    He picked up the remote and turned on the television. Fox News came on with a report about a tamed alligator somewhere in Florida. “Look at this,” he said. “Maybe I’ll get some pointers for dealing with my roommate.”
    “You should move out.”
    “Can’t. The lease is in my name.”
    “Then lay down the law. Tell him his girlfriend can’t live there. Make him move out. It’s ridiculous that you can’t sleep in your own place.”
    “You talk tough, Parker. But you’d do what I’m doing. I’ll deal with it as soon as I have time to think. Subject closed.”
    “A little defensive, aren’t we?” Parker muttered. “Okay, how about a new subject? Confidentially, Serene had some news last night. Apparently, Jeff Standard is considering buying out her contract. He wants to