Free When the Devil Doesn't Show: A Mystery by Christine Barber Page B

Structural Biosystems department at Los Alamos National Laboratory.”
    “And you are Dr. Jim Price’s immediate supervisor?” Davis asked.
    “Yes.”
    “When did you last see him?’
    “At a group meeting last week.” Her answer surprised Gil. He saw his co-workers several times a day. To not see someone in a week usually meant that person had gone on vacation.
    “And how did he seem?” Davis asked.
    “Fine.”
    “Who in your lab would have had more contact with him over the last few days?”
    “I wouldn’t know. My office is on a separate floor of the building.”
    “Is he friendly with anyone in your department?”
    “He is fairly new to our group. He transferred in a year ago from the Bio Tech department to fill an opening due to a retirement.”
    “Did he have any problems with anyone in your department?”
    “Not that I know of.”
    Davis leaned back. “Detectives, do you have any more questions for Dr. Goodwin?”
    “You hadn’t seen Dr. Price in a week?” Gil asked. “Was that normal?”
    “Yes,” she said. “We each have our own labs and offices. And, as I said, I work on a different floor.”
    “You didn’t run into him in the hallway or the break room?”
    She raised her eyebrows at the last part of the sentence. “We don’t have break rooms,” she said.
    “He wasn’t required to check in with you or anyone else?”
    “We’re all PhDs,” she said, as if that explained it.
    “Doctor, did anyone have an issue with Dr. Price being gay?”
    “He was gay?”
    “Yes,” Joe said slowly. “He lived with his partner.”
    “I had no knowledge of it.”
    Gil leaned back and thought. Normally, they would get much more information about a subject from his work environment. People spent as much time with their co-workers as they did with their family. The natural consequence of that was co-workers often had valuable information about the subject the family either didn’t know or didn’t want to reveal. Office mates sometimes knew when a person had problems at home or financial trouble. But the distance kept between Dr. Price and his co-workers meant there was little more Dr. Goodwin could tell them.
    Gil and Joe had no other questions, so Davis told Dr. Goodwin thank you, and she was escorted out of the room.
    “Well, that was a bust,” Joe said as soon as the door closed behind her. “The cashier at the liquor store knows more about me than she did about Price.”
    “That’s pretty typical,” Davis said. “Most scientists are ultracompetitive. You have to remember that these are some of the smartest people in the entire country. They are used to being treated differently. And they aren’t very good at teamwork.” Gil nodded. He had heard rumors about lab employees poisoning co-workers or framing them for espionage, all over who got their name on a scientific research paper or credit with the Nobel Prize committee.
    “Honestly,” Davis continued, “usually the cleaning crews and security guards are the only people the scientists might have had a social conversation with.”
    “Did Dr. Price interact with any of them?” Gil asked.
    “Maybe one of the security guards assigned to his unit,” Davis said. “Let me find out.”
    Davis got on his walkie-talkie and stood off to the side of the room, while Joe tried to get Gil’s attention by tapping on the table. Gil glanced at him, and Joe mouthed the words, “What the hell?” Gil ignored him. Davis came back over to them, saying, “Dr. Price was friendly with the day-shift security officer Chad Saunders. He’s on his way here.”
    Saunders came in a few minutes later wearing what seemed to be the lab security uniform: khaki pants and a golf shirt. He had ruler-straight buzzed hair and held himself with his center of gravity shifted slightly lower than normal. Gil had seen mixed martial arts fighters develop the same stance over years of training. The men sat down, and Davis gave the same introduction as earlier, before