The car rolled to a stop at the Third Funeral Home in New York. Caitlin stepped out from the back seat, adjusting her sunglasses and clicking her black heels on the pavement, her long windbreaker swaying with the breeze. She had a cold, commanding aura as she strode confidently into the building.
Quincy followed her inside, and they went straight to the office to inquire about the cremation records from five years ago. Unfortunately, the staff member there was uncooperative.
"I'm sorry, but our records are confidential and not for public access. Please leave."
The staff member tried to usher them out. Caitlin stayed silent, but Quincy, unfazed, casually pulled out his work ID from his pocket and flashed it in front of the man.
"Take a good look! This is my ID. We are investigating a fi
