Your key, sir

“What’s with all the keys?” A basket a filled with hotel keys sat singly atop his dresser like trophies on display. “That’s not all of them,” he said, “Just ones from this month.” Sticking a finger in the pile, I flipped the fobs over to read where he had spent the night. “Do you travel…

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Stay with the classics

Thumbing though her tattered Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper, Elise muttered to herself. “This job screams, ‘classic’,” she said. “But, he doesn’t want ordinary.” Filled to overflowing with a sundry of keepsakes – handwritten notes, old newspaper clippings, yellowed photographs, movie tickets – the binder was Elise’s manual of mayhem. It was where she kept all…

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Drawing blood

Previously: Paisley, rosemary, and time A half-eaten deli sub, still partially wrapped in its butcher paper sleeve, lay bleeding olive oil on Det. Sean Webster’s desk. His rumpled shirt and tie were splattered with the greasy effluence and tiny orts of focaccia dotted the thighs of his dark, too-tight pants. June Chapel sat across from…

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You don’t know, what you don’t know

Previously: Paisley, rosemary, and time Alone in a gloomy room, furnished with a graffiti-etched table and four stained office chairs, Paisley sat the table with a can of flat soda and a bag of stale potato chips. Across the room from her was a large one-way mirror. Watching the girl was a homicide detective and…

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Number Seven

“Who called it in?” Det. Jacobs pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves before accepting a scarf sealed in a plastic bag from one of the many police officers at the crime scene. “Those kids over there,” Sgt. Cross pointed toward two teenage boys sitting on a bench 10 yards away talking to an investigator.…

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