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"What do you want as a result?" Alex crossed his leg over the other and leaned back.
"I want to find the killer, I guess, put him behind the bars, rip him apart, wrap his intestine around his neck and strangle him."
Alex looked at him as if trying to fight a smile. "Must say, I never thought you had it in you."
"That's the least he deserves."
"Let's just stick to putting him behind bars for now. Wouldn't want another case on my hands, please." He dusted off the sleeve of his black button-down.
Chris shook his head. "I see London has treated you well."
"I have treated it well, Chris. London merely reciprocated."
"Of course." Chris nodded mockingly. "You sound ridiculous, you know that, right? You've even picked up an accent."
"Think whatever you may." He waved a dismissing hand. "Who's Abbott's living relative? His wife? Daughter?"
"Yeah, his daughter, Giselle. Rose died two years—"
The doorbell rang. Chris got up. "Must be Ana."
"Who's Ana? Someone you're seeing?"
"Giselle's housekeeper, you dumbass," Chris said over his shoulder.
He made his way toward the door again. Ana visited his house two times a week to clean and organize. The rest he liked to do himself.
He opened the door and broke into an easy smile. It wasn't Ana. Giselle stood in front of him, her hands firmly placed on her hips.
She also shoved her way inside. "You didn’t come today."
He scratched the back of his head, following her into his living room. "I've been occupied."
"Why? Is Abby here?" she asked, not glancing back. She'd met Abby a day ago, and they'd engaged in small talk. He had a feeling that neither was too crazy about the other.
Giselle paused upon entering the living room, and Chris bumped into her. "Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"I think Abby grew a beard."
Chris allowed himself to roll his eyes and gestured between them. "Giselle, Alex. Alex, Giselle."
Alex stood up, made his way toward Giselle, and offered her his hand. She glanced once at Chris, then placed her hand in his. Alex brought it to his lips and kissed it.
He looked up at her. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
She cleared her throat, glanced at Chris once more, and said, "Likewise...?"
He didn't leave her hand. "So, Giselle. How is it I've never met you before?"
"I don't know, maybe because I don't enjoy useless flirting and try to steer clear of people who do." She gave him a close-lipped smile, slipped her hand from his grasp, and looked at Chris a third time, who was having a rather hard time hiding his amused smile.
Giselle gave back a goofy grin, obviously proud of her childish retort. He could've kissed the innocence.
Alex cleared his throat and walked back toward where he sat before. "You're Abbott's daughter. Am I correct?"
Chris watched her smile fade.
