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

ashamed if they don't have what those people have. They look for guidance online, they look for relationships. They think this chick is showing them real life. Meanwhile, normal kids are losing their minds because they aren't rich or famous and influence no one."

"And the ones doing the influencing are bored, or so afraid to lose it all that they take risks?" Finn said. "Are you thinking this one went too far?"

"I would say so," Cori answered. "Or maybe she was branching out. Trying to position herself as a social justice warrior. That would be a good little scam. If they don't pay she gets kudos and more followers for calling these men out; if they do pay she's richer and gets perverse kicks out of their fear."

"It probably never crossed her mind that adults can play dirty too," Finn said. "Now we need to find out which adult decided to take her out of the game."

"Cross Bev off the list," Cori said. "I'm serious. No worries there."

"I know. The video is damning, but it was a school yard rumble. She couldn't have wielded a weapon with that much force and not have a speck of blood on her."

Finn shuffled the papers. He handed Cori a copy of a crime scene photo. It showed the plastic, numbered tents that marked where the techs found blood spatter.

"On the window. The blood is seen at five and six feet. On the right it would have sprayed the same height, but there was a person standing on that side. The person with the weapon would have had blood on their torso, hands, and on their face unless they were covered in some manner. The spatter is here." He pointed to the right. "—and here." He pointed to the left.  "But not here". This time he pointed to the space parallel to the victim's head where the perp would have stood blocking the curtain.

"Is there anything in that file on the blood analysis?" Cori asked.

"Only that it was all the victim's. Either she was sleeping and someone came quietly upon her, or it was someone she knew and she wasn't fearful." Finn said. "If she was as arrogant as Beverly says, the girl might have ignored a person she thought was of no consequence."

"Wasn't that just a mistake and a half," Cori said, as she lounged in her chair. "Let's not forget the dress from the dumpster. I know they'll find her blood on it. I can feel it in my bones."

Finn motioned to Cori's cup as he got up. She handed it to him, and he put both in the sink and rinsed them out.

"What can that garment tell us?" he asked.

"Nada, at this point," Cori said. "It was big enough to fit an average size man or woman. It was a unisex design.  It could have been a dress, might be a man's tunic. No buttons, no zipper, no labels. Nothing to  tell us where it came from. Nice design on the fabric, though. Kind of like a Pollock painting."

"I suppose one of the women could have worn it to the party and changed into her costume," Finn said.

"Possible, but doubtful. I've got two corroborating witnesses that say no one left the Asylum party, so none of them tossed this in the trash.  There were a few coats for cover up, but everyone swears they came dressed as they were to party. Now, that doesn't mean one of them wasn't there earlier, did the deed, and tossed the tunic. Time of death isn't an exact science," Cori said.

"Did Paul give you a time?" Finn asked.

"He thought the window was no more than three hours," Cori said.

 "I think it wasn't so long. The blood pools weren't congealed. We aren't talking hours," Finn said.

"There's the woman who was with Bev in the back of the room while Enver was doing his thing." Cori breathed deep, and put two fingers to her eyes. She let her head fall back as she rubbed them. Finally, she dropped her hand on the table. "Bev managed to get upstairs without officers Hunter or Douglas seeing her. It's possible the other woman could have done the same. Maybe she wrapped this dress—for want of a better word— stashed it and tossed it on her way out."

"Cori, my head's going to explode," Finn said. "'Tis the Mad Hatter's tea party we're looking at, Alice is dead, and the Caterpillar is hiding in plain sight."

Cori clapped. "Nice, O'Brien. Very literary."

"I have my moments." Finn looked up to check the clock on the wall, but all he saw was Detective Walters, a huge block of a man, crossing their path.  He poured himself a cup of coffee, and when he came back he paused to look over Finn's shoulder at the file

"That the chick from The Brewery?" he asked.

"That's her," Cori said.

The man nodded slowly, and then reached between them to shuffle the papers with one chunky finger. He came to the pictures of the crime scene, cocked his head, and considered them.

"Asylum thing, huh?" he said.

"That's correct," Finn said.

"They had some trouble in '06."

"What kind of trouble," Finn asked.

"Sexual assault," Walters said slowly. "Charges were dropped. The accused was on the Board of Supervisors. It could have been ugly."

"We'll check it out. Thanks," Cori said. Walters' head went up and down. He was still looking at the photos.

"Could be a snuff thing," Detective Walters said. "You know, a snuff thing."

With that he ambled out of the break room and headed to the bullpen. Finn raised a brow, and Cori a shoulder.

"Never crossed my mind," Finn said.

"Me neither," Cori said.

"After talking to Ali Keyes I'm not thinking it would be a consideration, but you never know," Finn said. "Not that we have time to think about it now. Bev's gentleman is allowing us fifteen minutes. Two-thirty sharp or we're banished from the lot according to the dragon who guards the man's lair."

Cori closed her computer. Finn picked up the file. He gave