Cuff Me(14)

He said nothing. She didn’t expect him to.

But he smiled. A real smile.

And that was something.





CHAPTER SIX


Jill’s first day back on the job was a big one.

As in… the biggest of her career.

Not because the crime was particularly unique. Being shoved off a staircase wasn’t common, but neither was it particularly creative.

No, it wasn’t the crime that was career breaking.

It was the victim.

Jill hunched down, linking her gloved hands between her knees as she studied the blank, staring eyes of the dead woman.

“Lenora Birch. Who did this to you?”

“I’d forgotten how creepy it is when you talk to the vics,” Vincent said.

Jill glanced over to where her partner crouched across from her, his posture mimicking hers on the other side of the victim’s body.

He didn’t look back at her. His gaze never moved away from the gruesome scene in front of him.

“Well I think it’s creepy that you don’t talk to them,” she said. “They’re people. Not ‘vics.’”

This time he did meet her eyes. “Exactly. They’re people. And it’s my job to figure out who stole their humanity away from them.”

“Right,” she said, standing up. “Your job. Because I’m just here because you’re such great company and I love all the blood.”

“Not much blood with this one,” he mused, standing with her.

He was right. As far as crime scenes went, it was clean in more ways than one. No footprints, no broken windows, and Jill was willing to bet as soon as the forensics guys finished up… no fingerprints.

But the method of death too was cleaner than most in that there was less blood than a stabbing or a shooting. But somehow the pristine crime scene almost made the death more gruesome.

Jill’s eyes followed the gorgeous, old-fashioned staircase all the way from the marble floor where they stood up to where it curved up around a magnificent chandelier. Then on to the point where Lenora Birch must have spent her last seconds of life.

“She could have fallen,” Jill said.

Vin came to stand beside her, his eyes repeating the exact motion hers had. “She didn’t fall.”

Jill was inclined to agree; nothing about this scene felt right. But they had to explore all options, as Vincent well knew.

Jill took the stairs two at a time, and Vincent followed her up. It was an exceptionally beautiful home. Most of the old walk-ups in this part of town were.

Jill and Vincent didn’t get many cases in the Upper East Side. The crime rate in the uppity part of town was lower than other parts of New York.

“This is too pretty a place for someone to die,” Jill said quietly. She held her gloved hand over the immaculately polished wood railing, hovering just an inch above so she didn’t actually touch it. “Do you think this is prewar?”

Vincent grunted, his eyes in constant motion as they ascended the stairs, although she doubted he was marveling at the decor the way she was.

Still, she couldn’t stop herself. The staircase beneath her feet seemed to be made of the same marble as the entryway floor. And she didn’t know art, but the paintings on the walls didn’t look like prints bought on the Internet the way all of Jill’s were.

This place smelled like money. Old money. And lots of it.

Which made sense, considering one of Hollywood’s most beloved legends lay dead below them.

“I can’t believe she’s dead,” Jill said quietly.

She glanced at Vincent when he said nothing. “You do know who that is, right?”

Vin rolled his eyes. “Yes, Henley. Even I, an uncultured boor, knows who Lenora Birch is.”

“I heard she was once best friends with Audrey Hepburn. That she used to hang out with Audrey after takes of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Did you know that?”

“I said I knew who she was; I didn’t say I studied trivia,” he muttered as they came to stand at the top of the stairs. He looked down. Pointed. “It would have been here.”

Jill nodded and reoriented her thought process. Right.

Now was not the time to stroll down memory lane to those carefree days before her dad died, when her little family would curl up on the couch and her parents would introduce her to the classics. Lenora Birch films had made a frequent appearance.

But this wasn’t a movie.

It was real life.

They were here to solve Lenora Birch’s death, not ruminate over her life. That would be for her friends and family to do, and well, most of America. But Vincent and Jill… right now they were homicide detectives first, fans second.

And though neither would say it, they were very much aware that this was a case that could make their career.

Or break it.

Not that they needed much help improving their track record. Jill and Vincent had a lower percentage of unsolved cases than almost anyone in the department.

But still, this was the murder of Lenora Birch.

Solving this would put them on the map in a big way. Set them up for promotion well ahead of their time.

But first… to prove it was a murder.

Jill rested her hands on the railing and looked down. “Okay, so she went over here…”

Jill held out her hand, palm to the floor as she measured how high the railing was on her. It hit between belly button and boobs. “How tall do you think Lenora Birch is—was? She’s so thin I always picture her being taller…”