“What’s wrong?” Sage asked when he came into the living room after doing the dishes Sunday evening and found Mike shaking his head.
“That.” Mike pointed to the TV which was tuned to the six-o-clock news.
“Oh, hell.” Sage dropped down beside him on the sofa to watch the end of the story. “They have to be kidding,” he said when it over. “Kurt would never kill himself, and if he did, for sure he wouldn’t have done it that way.”
Not that Sage knew it for certain. He’d only met Kurt twice, and that had been a couple of years ago, soon after he and Mike had made the decision to live together. Kurt had been the photographer for a story the newspaper was doing about how the detectives in Mike’s precinct had banded together to buy Christmas trees and gifts for three needy families.
“He seemed s
