But not Kingsley. I wondered why.
I was at the Fullerton police station, sitting across from a homicide detective named Sherbet. It was the late evening, and most of the staff had left for the day.
"You're keeping me from my kid," he said. Sherbet was wearing a long-sleeved shirt folded up at the elbows, revealing heavily muscled forearms covered in dark hair. The dark hair was mixed with a smattering of gray. I thought it looked sexy as hell. His tie was loosened, and he looked irritable, to say the least.
"I apologize," I said. "This was the only time I could make it today."
"I'm glad I can work around your busy schedule, Mrs. Moon. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you in any way."
His office was simple and uncluttered. No pictures on the wall. Just a desk, a computer, a filing cabinet and some visitor's chairs. His desk had a few picture frames, but they were turned toward him. From my angle, I could only see the price tags.
I gave him my most winning smile. "I certainly appreciate your time, detective." I had on plenty of blush, so that my cheeks appeared human.
The smile worked. He blushed himself. "Yeah, well, let's make this quick. My kid's playing a basketball game tonight, and I wouldn't want to miss him running up and down the court with no clue what the hell is going on around him."
"Sounds like a natural."
"A natural dolt. Wife says I should just leave him alone. The trouble is, if I leave him alone, he tends to want to play Barbies with the neighborhood girls."
"That worries you?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"You think he could turn out gay?"
He shrugged uncomfortably, and said nothing. It was a touchy subject for him, obviously.
"How old is your son?" I asked.