It was supposed to be a quiet night.I had Minuet’s scarf folded in a Ziplock on my desk. Her last words still echoing in my skull like a drumline with a grudge.Sniper was curled up in my jacket. I was pouring bourbon into tea because that’s how I flirt with insomnia. Then the knock came….
Tag: Ducati
Aria for One
When you’re invited to an abandoned opera house by a serial killer who leaves blood-stained scarves and finger-fed doves at your doorstep, you have two choices: I’m not a cop anymore.And Sniper knows I don’t kiss unless I’m dying or drunk. So… door number two. * * * 10:42 PM – The Lobby Delacroix was…
Dead Notes
I don’t wake up to doorbells.Because I don’t sleep.But if I did, this one would’ve haunted me straight out of REM. Ding-dong.Bzzzzt.Ding-ding-ding-ding-DING. Whoever it was had the persistence of a Jehovah’s Witness on espresso. I slid my dagger from under the pillow, slipped into my robe (black silk, of course), and opened the door with…
Concerto for Crime
The problem with abandoned violin cases is that 9 times out of 10, there’s no violin inside. Just trouble wearing a bowtie. Tonight? We were at a full symphony of bad decisions. * * * 8:26 PM – The Alley Sniper found it first. She was prowling the alley behind the clinic, tail high, claws…
Thera-Fail
Group therapy in the clinic is always a mess. A support circle of ex-arsonists, failed bank robbers, and one guy who insists he’s married to a toaster. But today was special. Today, we introduced Roy Eastman. And like a moth to a crime scene, he couldn’t help himself. * * * 12:00 PM – “Trust…
Cuffed in Silk
The city never sleeps. It just fakes it better than Roy Eastman. He thought he could vanish behind a smile and a stolen ID. Thought the world forgot who he was, a psychopath with a silk fetish and a flair for dramatics. But the thing about silk? It leaves fibers. And Roy? Roy leaves a…
The silk noose
There are days when the world gives you a gentle pat on the back. Then there are days when it sucker punches you with a silk scarf and whispers, “Remember me?” I walked into the clinic with my usual routine: black tailored suit, hair in a slick bun, hidden blades in my heels, and an…
The Sphinx 