The Colors of Hate - 20

 “Well, I probably gave Detective Lasiter a good reason why I would have wanted Ange dead,” Dean told Carrie during a break in rehearsal. They were in his office where they could have some privacy.

“How so?”

“I told him about dad.”

Carrie looked at him is shock. “Dean, you didn’t! Why?”

“We were talking about…well my alibi such as it is, and why I didn’t just tell Ange so she’d lay off. It…came up.”

“I see. I bet he jumped in with both feet to say dad was right on in his beliefs. He is a cop after all.”

“An out cop, and…”

“Hang on, he’s gay, too—and they know it?”

“According to him, yes.” Dean smiled wryly. “He suggested the Witness Protection program. Well, not as if he thought I should become part of it, just sort of joking, after he asked why I hadn’t changed my name so I could be ‘me’.”

“Like dad couldn’t find you, even if you did.”

Dean nodded. “That’s what I tried to tell him, I think.” He frowned. “Or maybe I didn’t, not that it matters.”

“So now you’ve jumped to the top of their suspect list. Damn, I’m sorry.” Carrie hugged him hard for a minute. “You didn’t do it.”

“I hope that was a statement, not a question,” he replied with a small smile.

“Of course it was, you nut.”

“I know. I was just teasing.” He took a quick look at the time and sighed. “Back to the grind.”

“You love it, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do. Just like you do.”

“I love it more.”

“No, I do,” he bantered back, glad he could clown around, if only for a moment, and have a bit of fun.

“Uh-uh,” Carrie called back over her shoulder as she hurried down the hall toward the stage.

“Uh-huh,” he said, laughing while he headed to the auditorium.