REBECCA
Rebecca Grey closed her eyes and basked in the glow of the morning sun. She took a long, deep breath — only to exhale in a coughing fit.
'Damn this smog,' she thought.
Standing at the corner of one of the busiest streets in downtown New York, Rebecca quickly fished for her inhaler from her Adidas sling bag. After a quick puff, she felt much better. The pedestrian signal turned green, and Rebecca shoved her inhaler into her bag before swiftly joining the throng of people crossing the street.
A few dozen paces later found her standing in front of the Silverman Tower. Rebecca looked up, squinting her hazel eyes at the imposing skyscraper, looming above all other buildings in the vicinity. She cleared her throat, straightened the press pass around her neck, and brushed back the loose strands of curly hair that had slipped out of her ponytail. Her hair was naturally straight, but on a whim, she’d decided to go for a perm and had quickly come to regret the decision. Her curls had been hiding in her ponytail ever since.
Rebecca wished she were hiding from the world in bed. But here she was, ready for a brand-new assignment. She whipped out her trusty Canon PowerShot. The little beauty had seen Rebecca grow from a rookie journalist to a Pulitzer Prize-winning one. Today, Rebecca would use her trusty camera to provide press coverage for one of the hottest stories in town: a murder at the Silverman Tower.
The Silverman Corporation had long been one of New York’s most influential business empires, with lucrative stakes in real estate, aviation, oil, and renewable energy, as well as the entertainment industry. Its current CEO, William Silverman, recently elevated the company to new heights by making the bold move of investing in virtual reality, a gamble that paid off handsomely and rocketed William into the title of Time’s entrepreneur of the year. Silverman was now the region’s top company and, for a time, seemed invincible.
Then, the murder happened. By morning, the whole place was swarmed with police officers, reporters, and curious passers-by. Now, the main entrance to the building was sealed off with bright yellow caution tape. A lanky police officer noticed Rebecca inching toward the barrier tape, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Perhaps he had dealt with too many nosy onlookers this morning.
He held up his palm and addressed Rebecca, “Young lady, I’m afraid the Silverman Tower is off-limits today. If you’d be so kind as to…” His voice trailed off, and his weary eyes widened when he saw Rebecca’s press pass. “Miss Grey! My apologies. I had no idea you were covering this case. I’m a huge fan of your work! Your report on the Darlington case really helped bring justice to the trial. Hey, can I take a selfie with you?”
Rebecca smiled sheepishly, not sure how to decline the overly eager police officer. She hadn’t gotten used to her newfound fame. Just as she was about to open her mouth to offer some feeble excuse, John Grant appeared.
“John!” Rebecca squealed, ecstatic to see a familiar face.
John walked to where she stood, and she hugged him, her face disappearing in the broad shoulders of his black trench coat. His coat smelled so good; it reminded her of a pine tree.
“Detective Grant, my apologies, I had no idea you knew Ms. Grey,” the police officer said, taking a step back in intimidation.
And he had a right to feel intimidated. John Grant was rising in the ranks at the headquarters and was recently promoted to the post of detective. At a height of over six feet tall, he had Viking gold hair that he wore in a casual jumble, but it still somehow managed to look neat and flowing. John’s baby blue eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief, and he laid a protective arm over Rebecca’s shoulder, flashing his pearly whites at the police officer.
“Of course, I know her. She’s soon to be Mrs. Grant!”
Rebecca gave John an evil eye but didn’t feel the need to explain. Instead, she took the opportunity to duck under his shoulder and strode into the building through a carved mahogany revolving doorway. Just inside, Rebecca found herself standing inside the grandest entrance hall she had ever seen. The soaring space was simply but tastefully decorated with a massive, sparkling chandelier. Had Rebecca not been here for work, she would’ve loved to explore the immaculate reception even more.
John glided in behind her with athletic grace, and the eyes of several female employees in the foyer followed suit. It came as no surprise, as John was blessed with not only the physique of an athlete but also the face of a demi-god, with almond-shaped eyes and well-defined cheekbones that sat on an extremely masculine jaw. He bent over and flicked his finger on her forehead.
“Earth to Becca.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I hate it when you do that, John,” she growled.
“You used to love it when we were kids,” John threw up his hands in feigned innocence. “Anyways, it’s a good thing you came late. The body's been removed by the forensics.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed. “You mean, it’s a bad thing.”
John shook his head. “Nope. It was gruesome. The victim had her skull smashed. From the looks of it, she died instantly. Never had a chance to defend herself. But you know what irks me the most?”
Rebecca intuitively grabbed her smartphone and turned on her recording app.
John patiently waited for her before he continued, “This is off the record until the forensics release the report, but just so you know, the victim had her eyes stapled shut.”
Rebecca could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand. She didn’t like where this was going.
“It’s bad enough that the victim was so young. Just an intern. Company records show that she was only 20. Just 20 years old! And she had to go down like this. It wasn’t just an accidental murder; the murderer meticulously stapled her eyes shut in parallel lines.”
Rebecca looked to the left of the entrance hall where more police officers were gathered. “Can you show me where the murder took place?” she asked quietly.
John’s eyes followed her gaze. He nodded his head, took her by the hand, and gently guided her through the crowd. They stopped in front of a capsule elevator, where John pressed the ‘down’ touch button. The elevator door opened immediately, and they both stepped in. As the door closed, John tapped the B button, signifying that they were to go to the basement.
He looked down at her, his eyes softening. “You okay with this?”
Rebecca shot a look back. She hated being viewed as weak. Sure, she was slightly claustrophobic, but she was a big girl. And nothing was going to stop her from getting her story. She took another puff from her inhaler and nodded her head enthusiastically.
“Of course! You know me. Always ready for anything.”
