“So werewolves are real? What about vampires? Foxes? Goblins?” Virus asks, his tone part amused, part skeptical.
I roll my eyes.
“This isn’t story time. Tell me your findings about the crash and anything on Brandon.”
His posture straightens immediately, the teasing vanishing from his face.
“Whoever hit the madam planned it with expertise. Her car was parked in a blind spot, far from other cameras. She stepped out once, but she’s too far away for a clear shot.” He swivels his laptop toward me and presses play.
I lean closer, jaw clenching as I watch grainy footage of the said woman’s tiny frame moving across the pavement.
No sound. No details. Just distance.
“Where did she go after stepping out?” I ask.
“She met another woman. But still too far for a clear view. I tried tracing wher
