Intimate Relations by Rebecca Forster (most popular ebook readers TXT) 📕

report he was working on. If anyone in the room wanted to see it, all they had to do was look. He walked by one empty desk, but at the next a detective glanced his way. The man looked as if he'd been with the force for a hundred years. He snapped a rubber band. O'Brien smiled at him. He snapped it again, and this time the darn thing flew across the room. If he had meant to hit Finn, the man was a poor shot. The captain had not waited, so Finn walked the long hall alone and went into the office where the assistant was nowhere to be seen. He leaned his head through her door and knocked on the jamb. Captain Smith gave him permission to enter with a crook of two fingers.  She pushed a few measured inches away from her desk. Finn sat in a straight-backed wooden chair opposite her.  On her desk he counted four stacks of papers, two pens, a coffee cup imprinted with the division logo, and one picture. The picture faced her so he could not see if it was husband, family, or dog she cared to remember during the working day.

The woman's chin length hair was brown as were her eyes. Parentheses created by deep lines framed her small mouth. They seemed to be  proof of age, not humor. She wore no make-up, but her skin was burnished brown as if she spent all her free time under the sun. It was difficult to tell if Captain Smith ever laughed or frowned. She was doing neither at the moment.

"Let's talk about The Brewery, Detective O'Brien."

Finn brought her up to speed. His report was to the point in regards to the first responders. He told it without judgment or asides. If Finn's assessment of his new captain was correct, she would read nothing into his words. He told her where Cori was, what she was doing, and that the autopsy had been completed. He went through his visit to The Brewery that day, and told her that they were hoping to identify the victim soon.

"The other people in the building? What about them?" she asked.

"All but one gave us their names and contact information. The women are accounted for. The four male guests are well-connected. I'll have my initial report to you by end of day."

"Very good," Smith said. "Anything else?"

"I have the name of a person seen visiting the location that is intriguing. I'll let you know if it pans out." Finn said. "We questioned the residents of the unit at length.  The gentleman who owns it discovered the body and was in a state. He had blood on his person. Given the nature of the attack, his appearance was not consistent with the commission of the crime. Everyone knew the victim by an alias. We believe some knew her real identity, but they did not share this information."

"That seems a bit odd, doesn't it?" she said.

"Not considering that these people were guests of Asylum. The venue was rented, the owners stated they were unaware of what type of gathering it would be, and the building was a destination only. The rental was arranged through a third party."

Captain Smith allowed herself a small smile.

"Asylum is interesting. Not my idea of a good time, but to each his own."

"As you say, captain," Finn said.

"Did you talk to the host?" she asked.

"If he was there he didn't identify himself. The attendees were handpicked, and there was business to be done. It appears to be something outside of Asylum business, but I am seeing Ali Keyes, the owner, in another hour. I hope he'll be able to shed some light.

"I'm further hoping Mr. Keyes can help us ID the victim. It appears there are strict rules about sharing personal information. I believe Mr. Keyes can break them under the circumstances."

"Okay," Captain Smith said. "Hopefully we'll have a hit on the fingerprints soon, so don't push Mr. Keyes quite yet."

"I've got all data bases looking including Homeland Security and Global Entry. She was very well turned out, I'm assuming she had money. That might mean travel."

"Well and good, O'Brien," Captain Smith said. "I know we've had you running since you got here, and I appreciate the hard work.  I have full faith in you, but this one is delicate."

"It certainly encompasses a different class of folks if that's what you mean," Finn said.

"That is exactly what I mean."

Captain Smith picked up a pen and ran it through her fingers. Her nails were bitten to the quick and that surprised Finn. Somewhere inside, past the perfect calm, the woman was roiling. It was no easy task being a captain in any city, but this division must be particularly challenging.

"This 'class of folks', as you say, have been busy trying to minimize last night's fallout."

She raised the pen and put it to her lips before tossing it on the desk. The captain rested her arms on top, leaned into it, and laced her fingers together.

"I got a call from the mayor's chief of staff. He informed me that he would like us to treat this incident with kid gloves. It seems that the mayor's very reliable intel indicates that none of the people at the party knew the girl. Nor did they have anything to do with the murder."

"Truly," Finn said.

Captain Smith's wide plain eyes blinked. Her expression never changed, but Finn saw an itch of amusement at the corner of her lips.

"Sometime before end of day, I will receive notarized statements attesting to that fact. Each of these sworn statements will include the individual's precise movements during the party."

Now it was Finn who tipped his lips, but the gesture did not even come close to a smile.

"'Tis kind of the mayor and his staff to do our work for us. I'll be able to take an early lunch and have my hair cut."

This time she chuckled, and in doing so transformed.  Her eyes