Detective Conrad’s POV
She came through my door in the early afternoon wearing a thin, summer print that flowed over her body like water. She was young and on the petite side, a bit smaller than I normally favor them, but her hair was long and the dress hinted at enough flesh to convince me that I wouldn’t be picking any bones out of my teeth when I went for my dinner.
She was pretty, too, but her pained expression reminded me of a mouthful of bad scotch and her attempt at a smile vanished faster than a jackrabbit on hump night. A small purse dangled from one arm and in the other she clutched a sheath of papers so tightly they might have been the Dead Sea Scrolls.
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the sight in front of me, but it had been a slow month and I couldn’t afford to be
