Playing both sides
The knock at Jessie’s door was sharp, deliberate. Three crisp raps — not rushed, not tentative. The kind of knock that told her exactly who it was before she even looked through the peephole. Detective Marquez. Jessie took a steadying breath and slipped into her practiced calm. She’d known this moment was coming. She’d prepared for it — meticulously. Everything important was hidden. Everything incriminating, wiped. And what remained… was nothing more than a helpful, cooperative crime scene tech with nothing to hide. She opened the door. Marquez stood on the threshold, dressed in plainclothes, her expression a tight knot of professionalism and suspicion. She looked tired — as if sleep had been a distant memory lately. “Jessie,” she said with a nod. “Detective. Everything okay?” “Can
- Writer
