Page 64 of Manner of Death

“Bashir?” Sawyer’s voice. Bashir expected to be relieved—both that Sawyer was here and that they’d thought to cover McKay—but something about his tone had Bashir on edge.

“Be right back,” he said to Tami, and after he’d stripped off his protective gear, he strode up to the front vestibule.

As soon as he reached the doorway, he skidded to a halt.

Sawyer stood there alongside Detective Walker, who Bashir recognized but hadn’t interacted with much. Behind them, two uniformed officers.

It was Sawyer’s expression that brough him up short, though. Gone was any trace of the affectionate, vulnerable man who’d been in Bashir’s bed last night. Gone was the grieving partner. His eyes were hard and his jaw was set—Sawyer was completely in cop mode.

Bashir cleared his throat. “What can I do for you?”

“You’re not the one we need to see.” Sawyer sounded official but faintly apologetic. “We need to speak to Ms. Glen.”

“Ms.—” Bashir blinked. “My assistant?”

Sawyer nodded. “Tami Glen. We have—”

“What’s going on?” Tami appeared beside Bashir, eyes wide. “I heard my name.”

Sawyer fixed the friendly-but-serious cop expression on her. “Ms. Glen, I need you to come upstairs and answer some questions.”

She balked. “Some questions? About what?”

“We’ll discuss all that upstairs.” Sawyer gestured at the door. “Would you come with us, please?”

Behind him, the officers straightened, their gazes focused on her.

Bashir turned to her.

She’d gone almost as pale as one of the bodies waiting to be autopsied. “What’s… I don’t understand. Questions about what?”

There were cops who thought that kind of pushback was a sign of guilt, but Bashir knew—and he hoped Sawyer knew—it was a natural fear. Even a kid who’d done nothing wrong was going to get nervous when he was called down to the principal’s office. When a homicide detective showed up and wanted to “ask a few questions”—who wouldn’t get nervous?

Bashir put a hand on her back to reassure her, and he asked Sawyer, “Is she under arrest?”

“No,” came the quiet response. “This is an interview—not an interrogation.”

“Can she have a lawyer present?”

The cops behind Sawyer fidgeted, but Sawyer nodded. “Absolutely.”

Bashir looked at Tami again. “I trust him, okay?”

Her lips tightened. “I can’t afford a lawyer.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Tami chewed her lip. She glanced back and forth between the cops and Bashir, and finally, she nodded and said in a meek voice, “Okay.”

Sawyer relaxed minutely. To the officers, he said, “Set her up in conference room three. Anything she needs or wants, hook her up.”

The other detective beckoned to Tami. “Would you come with us, please?”

Tami hesitated, but then she followed. A moment later, everyone was gone from the morgue except for Bashir and Sawyer.