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I called Zee, but got his message center. I didn't leave one, if he wasn't answering while at work, he was busy with something. I drove downtown and walked those three blocks, trying to get a sense of where the killer might have gone.

The last block had been one building at some point, judging by the unified facade. It had been divided into six stores and two coffee shops at each corners. Three high end clothing were separated by a jewelery store, a closed one, and an electronic boutique. All of them would have been closed after midnight, even the coffee shops. Downtown didn't run past ten pm.

I stepped up to the closed store. The windows were painted white to keep people from looking in. I didn't think the realtor wanted us to see how messy it was. I did a search the net and found it had been a fourth clothing store, no wonder it had shut down, there couldn't be enough money in all of Denver to keep five clothing stores alive on the same block.

It would make a good place to hide, if he had the keycard for it. I called the leasing agency from the number on the window. I asked to see the store, and when the man on the other end ask which retail company I represented, I explained I was a PI. That shut him down. Even when I explained someone who had committed a crime might be hiding in it, he said he couldn't.

And offered that I should call the police.

Like that was going to help me.

I did get him to tell me that no one had seen the store in a month. So at least he hadn't gotten the keycard for it, not that it meant anything. The lock was standard, and there were many programs out there that could bypass it. My phone had a few of them, but the sidewalk was too busy.

So I couldn't say where he'd gone. I went to the coffee shop and got myself a coffee to drink while I tried to think. The coffee was really good, but not worth the twelve dollars I had to pay.

In the end I was back to my initial plan, get Zee to identify him from the picture. It was close to noon, hopefully he was done with what kept him busy in the morning.

"Special Agent Zikabar Malhotra Bodenman speaking."

"There is no way you can say that each time you answer your phone," I sighed, knowing full well he did.

"I am proud of bearing my husband's name, I will not leave it out. And how are you doing dear?"

I blew out my breath. "I'm managing. I'm kind of stuck on something and I'm hoping you can help me with it. Do you want to meet at the Pink Rose so I can show you some pictures?" "No." His tone was flat.

"No? You're turning down a meeting at the Pink Rose?"

"Yes, I am. I am cooking tonight. If you want to discuss your problem with me, you will have to come over for dinner. I am making a chicken curry with steamed greens."

It took me a moment to find my voice. "Does Marcus know you're going to be cooking?"

"Of course he does."

"And he's going to be there?" The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

"Denton, dear. If you have something to say, I suggest you actually say it."

At least he hadn't sounded angry.

"Zee, you can't cook." Zikabar was a wonderful man, loyal, always willing to help, detail oriented, but he couldn't cook.

Back in school, there had been a major case of food poisoning, the only one in a decade. Zee was responsible. He'd taken home ed, and as part of learning to cook the class had cooked the school's lunch under the supervision of the cooks.

Zee's meatloaf had been the guilty party.

No one knew how it had happened. The cook had been with him the entire time, and she had sworn that Zee had followed her directions exactly. We might had written off as a one off, but there there was the time he'd tried to impress his date, and they'd both ended up in the hospital getting their stomach pumped. And there had been other incidents, to the point that no one who knew Zee would let him cook for them.

"I have been taking courses over the net. Marcus said that my cooking is much improved."

I wouldn't be surprise that Marcus was embellishing things.

"All right, I'll be there. Six?"

"Six thirty, I don't expect today to end early."

"I'll see you then."

I was going to get myself some good anti-poison medication first. Hopefully I wouldn't have to drive to the state park to get some. City pharmacies didn't really cater to wilderness fans.

* * * * *

The street they lived on was quiet, even at dinner time. Everyone here were young professionals, no families, so no kids running around. But it meant most of the parking spaces by the curb were taken, I had to park at he end of the block, but that was still less than the four blocks and three flight of stairs I had to walk when I parked near my place.

I winced at the bright yellow one of the owners had used for his facade, and it made me look at Zee's, wondering when he was going to paint it and what color he'd use. I was amazed he'd tolerated such a drab color this long.

The patch of lawn on either side of the steps had been turned brown by the cold, and actually looked maintained, instead of the mess of weeds it turned into with the warm seasons. Neither Zee nor Marcus cared for dealing with it.

"Welcome Denton Brislow," the sensor announced as I stepped to the door. The door unlocked. I used to find it unnerving. The first time I almost broke my leg when I backed up, startled, and set my foot down past the stairs. That was the system I was getting installed, as soon as the lock smith received it, but I was killing the greeting option.

"Denton, dear," Zee called out as soon as I entered. "I hope you are hungry."

"I am," I replied, putting my jacket in the closet by the door. I really wasn't. I'd grabbed a sandwich before coming.

Zee was at the stove when I joined him, his back to me. He

wasn't wearing anything under his rainbow apron, and I enjoyed the sight of his ass moving. I licked my lips. At least, even if the food wasn't edible, I was going to eat something tasty before the night was over.

The deer turned, caught my gaze and smirked. "Is that what you want me to look at?" He indicated the envelope I was holding.

"Yes, but it can wait until we've eaten." If we dealt with that now, I'd have no reason to stay, and he might feel insulted if I dashed out before I tasted his food.

"Good answer. I will go put something on, and we will eat."

"You know you don't have to, right?"

Zee ran a finger along my jaw. "That's sweet, but I'll still get dressed." He gave me a peck and headed up the stairs.

Marcus was coming down and they kissed in passing.

I watched the mule deer's ass disappear, and waited an extra minute while March watched me with a grin. I pulled out a packet of anti poison.

"Do you need any?"

He shook his head. "I've already taken some."

I dry swallowed the two pills in the pack. "At least it does smell good."

Marcus glanced upstairs, then lowered his voice.

"Unfortunately, that doesn't mean much. He hadn't made anything that tasted as good as it smelled, yet." He grabbed a loaf out of the bread box and sliced it.

"Unfortunately," Zee said, joining us, "the bread is store bought." He was now wearing canary yellow slacks with mauve, no that shirts was purple. "You two sit and I'll serve you."

I put the envelope on the island and did as told. A moment later Zee had a bowl of chicken drenched in a yellow gravy. It wasn't as bright as his pants, but close. This close the curry smelled spicy.

Marcus filled three glasses with white wine, then sat down.

Zee place his and Marcus' bowls on the table and sat.

"It smells wonderful, hun," the red deer said.

Zee smiled and picked up his glass. "To good friends and good food." We toasted then looked at the food. Zee speared a piece of chicken, and almost had it to his mouth. "Well, don't just look at it, dig in."

Not having any choice I forked a piece and ate it under his watch. As soon as the sauce spilled over my tongue my eyes started watering, my sinuses were melting and my throat burning. I grabbed a slice of bread and shoved pieces in my mouth before shewing.

"I think you over did the spices." I gasped once I managed to swallow.

"Nonsense, it's Indian cooking, it's supposed to be spicy."

"I don't think it's supposed to be *this* spicy," Marcus wheezed. He too was crying.

Zee frowned at his fork and put the chicken in his mouth. He chewed a couple of time then gasped. It took visible effort not to spit it out, and swallowing looked painful.

"I don't understand. I followed the recipe exactly."

Marcus held his hand. "It's okay, you'll get the hand of it."

I didn't say anything, but if over spiciness was all we had to worry about, it was an improvement.

I wiped most of the sauce off a piece, with some bread, and risked it. It was still hot, but no longer brain boiling so. They followed my example and we were able to finish the meal.

Zee still looked disappointed as he emptied out bowls of the sauce down the drain, but his spirits lifted as Marcus took the tub of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer. Zee grabbed three spoons and sat back down.

"Hand me the picture you brought," the mule deer said, shoving a large spoonful in his mouth.

I reached behind me, just barely managing to gram the envelope without tipping the chair over. I handed it to him then

I was filling my mouth too.

This wasn't great ice cream, it wasn't even good ice cream. It tasted like chocolate, but just barely. Ice cream was one thing Zee refused to pay a lot for, even though he adored the stuff. As far as he was concerned, Ice cream was meant to be devoured, not savored. He only spend enough so it tastes like what it claimed to be, and not one penny more.

He pulled out pictures with one hand, continuing to eat with the other. He had six out when he commented. "He has expensive tastes."

"How can you tell? You barely see anything."

He eyes me, cleaned his spoon and said. "Dear, you brought these to me so I could tell you what I saw. Are you now doubting my abilities?"

"No, no, I just mean, there isn't anything distinctive about what he's wearing. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me something about he guy himself, maybe his species.

Zee ate another spoonful. "This is where you are wrong, my dear Denton. This coat is quite distinctive." He flipped a picture so it was right side for me, and traced the bottom of the coat with his spoon. "Notice the line, you can see a notch at the side." He flipped another picture. "And here you can see another one at the back. Those are distinctive marks."

"I thought they were just folds, because he's moving."

"They are folds, not caused by movement." He found a picture where the man was standing still, waiting at a light. "You can still see it here, although it is less visible due to the darkness."

I couldn't see anything where he was indicating, but he was the one with the ability to see details.

"Granted, by themselves it isn't enough to establish the

value of the coat, but you can see the high collar here. It isn't turned up against the cold, you can see where it's folded down here."

I could make that out, but I'd missed it before.

"Now for the interesting part. See how the light catches at the cuff? And also here, on the front. Those are the buttons. Most coats will use plastic, good quality one will have varnished wood. This is metal. Not just metal, but silver. And here you can just make out a similar reflection at the bottom of the coat. If the light were to hit it right, I am certain we'd see the same at the cuff and the collar. Because Silver thread is the distinctive mark of a Hamilton Coat or Suit. He's probably wearing the suit under there. This whole ensemble starts in the five figure, and average twenty-five thousand dollars." Zee looked wistfully at the image.

"So there aren't many of them around?"

The deer snorted. "Dear lord no. The Hamilton Company is very selective about who they make a suit for. It not only takes money, the man who wants to wear one of these suits must have the proper pedigree." He ran a finger over the image. "Even if I could afford one, they would never let me wear it."

Marcus rubbed his husband's back. "It's their loss. You would make such a suit shine. You should approach them anyway, you never know."

Zee gave him a sad smile. "Thank you love, but I have resigned myself. This is something Zikabar can't have."

I hated to see him like this. Since I was going to be talking to the Hamilton Company, I'd have to see if I could do something to convince them Zee deserved a suit. All the money I had had to be good for something.

"So once I get the list of people who own those suits, it should be easy to find out who was in town."

"Yes, but only if you can get the list. Hamilton is quite secretive about who buys their suits. Plenty of fashion reporters have tried to get names out of them."

"I'm a PI. Finding out secrets is what I do now." I winced as this made me sound like what I imagined the Stentons did.

"If you get it, then yes, it will be easy to find him. I don't expect there are many of them in the city at one time."

We ate in silences, bringing the tub down to the last quarter.

"Will you tell us what this is about?"

I looked at the ice cream, pooling at the edges, as I considered. I glanced up at Marcus and he tiled an ear. I sighed. "I can't."

Zee placed a hand on mine. "Denton, you can tell us. I...."

"Zee," Marcus warned."

"But, love...."

The red deer silenced him with a look. I looked from one to the other, wondering what that was about.

"Very well." Zee looked away. He tightened his grip. "Denton, dear, I wish you trusted us enough to let us help you with whatever you are involved in."

"Thanks, Zee, that means a lot to me, but I can handle it."

Marcus didn't even try to stifle his snort. I didn't comment on that.

"Just know that when the time comes. When you finally decides you need our help, we will be there for you." That was what I was afraid of.