Page 29 of Manner of Death

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Page 29 of Manner of Death

“Yeah, and I should—”

“Right.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Bashir nodded firmly, then extended his hand. “I’ll see you later, Detective Villeray.”

Sawyer shook his hand. Bashir’s grip was warm compared to his own; he really didn’t want to let go, but he was aware that he didn’t have a choice. “I look forward to it, Dr. Ramin.” Sawyer watched him go, then straightened his shoulders and turned back to the scene.

Time to help Officer Doran with interviews.

Having Nan as his temporary partner made things that used to feel like a heavy lift take way less effort than Sawyer was used to. By the time he got back to the station, she’d already gotten a background check done on the victim, informed his family of the situation, and set up interviews for the next day. “Which I’m happy to take lead on,” she said, “because Christine and the kids have gone to her parents’ place for the weekend and if I spend too much time at home I’ll just end up cleaning the house for forty-eight hours straight.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Sawyer asked.

“It is if I’m doing it by myself,” she said. “Go home for a while. No one’s coming in until the afternoon, you can get some rest.”

Sawyer took Nan’s advice. He went home, stared longingly for a moment at the nice suit he’d intended to wear on his date with Bashir and hadn’t even had time to change into, showered, and fell into bed. He slept for six solid hours, a miracle during an investigation like this, and he could have slept even longer if not for the sound of his phone on the verge of buzzing itself off the bedside table. Sawyer grabbed it and answered instantly. “H’lo?”

“Sawyer! I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for forever! Where have you even been?”

“Jessica?” Why was his sister calling him at…he checked the clock…ten in the morning? “What’s wrong? Is Chloe okay?” Chloe was her daughter.

She tsked. “Chloe’s fine.”

“Do you need someone to bail you out?”

“Sawyer.” There was genuine hurt in her voice. “I haven’t asked you for bail money in years, why would you even go there?”

Sawyer groaned. She was right, it was rude, but… “Give me a break, I just woke up.”

“It’s ten in the morning where you are. Why are you just waking up?”

It was no use trying to explain a cop’s schedule to his sister. After her second course of rehab—the one that actually made a difference—Jessica had decided to design her life around a strict schedule: waking up at six, meditating, eating a light breakfast, having a run, doing her green tea ceremony…by nine o’ clock every morning she was already well into her day, and she never went to bed later than ten at night. It made life better for her—made it easier to manage the tough times—and Sawyer would never say a word against it.

Not even when he wished he was still asleep. He could have had hours more sleep if she hadn’t decided to call him at New York o’clock… “I’m sorry. Why are you calling?”

“Can’t I just want to talk to you?”

“Not at ten in the morning,” he replied. “Don’t you usually save this hour for yoga?”

“Pilates, actually, but I decided to switch it out for an afternoon block because I have something I’ve got to talk to you about.”

That sounded serious. “Is it Mom?” The other option was their father, but Sawyer hoped it wasn’t anything to do with that man. He’d gone no-contact with him a decade and a half ago, and he wasn’t budging unless Pierre Villeray was on his deathbed. Maybe not even then.

“No, she’s fine too. She’s in Milan for Fashion Week right now. No, this is about an opportunity I just got!”

Oh, that sounded promising. Jessica hadn’t worked in Hollywood in years, all her latest efforts going to Broadway, but he knew she wanted to. “Is this about a role?”

“It is, although the role would be for Chloe, not for me. I would be in the position of producer.”

“Wow, that’s great.”

“It is!” Some of her enthusiasm bled away. “But there’s a tiny little bit of a catch.”

Not so great. “What kind of catch?”

“Well…” It turned out, the show was a variation on the detective theme—a young, super-smart female officer haunted by her tortured past, solving crimes right out from under the noses of older cops all while hunting down the serial killer who had murdered her parents and running a true crime podcast on the side. It sounded rote, to be honest, but rote was a decent way for an actor to get consistent work if they weren’t being chosen for tentpole movie roles.




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