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“I knew Anna.”
Stunned, I whip my gaze up and stop on Fifi’s almost guilty expression. Her pinched lips and emotional stare.
I forget Anna’s tox results and the report I’m compiling for the detectives. I forget about the mayor—for a moment, at least. I forget about Archer and Cato Malone, and everything else in my world that is always, constantly, hammering at the back of my psyche. “Excuse me?”
“I knew the victim,” she repeats on a groan. “Reasonably well.”
“How?! She’s world-famous, according to everyone. She’s an A-list superstar with a frickin fandom who go nuts for her. But Archer knew her. The mayor knew her. And nowyouknow her? What the hell is going on?”
“Archer knew her?” Surprised, she studies me intently. “How on Earth could Archer know her?”
“Theyhung out,” I scoff. “Almost banged. They were considering a date, but that never eventuated. How did you know her?”
“Ms. Tannen’s Dance Academy,” she breathes. “It’s a…a…”
“A dance academy?” I fill in wryly. “You went to one of those schools?”
“Well…”
“You went to a real, honest to God, learn-to-danceschool? Like… to be in musicals and shit?”
“To dance professionally,” she grumbles, not at all pleased with my dismissal of who she used to be.Maybe still is. I don’t know. “Anna and I danced together for many months. Then she went one way, and I went the other.”
“Ya think? She went on to become a superstar, and you went on to make friends with dead people. How are you even in the same conversation? Adancer?” I press, genuinely bewildered. “You went pro?”
“Icouldhave gone pro,” she sniffs, lacing her fingers together and straightening her spine. “I had the experience and education. I had the contacts in the industry, but…”
Curious, I tilt my head the way Archer so often does. “But what?”
“But I didn’t have the drive or desire to make it my career. My mother did. She raised me to be what she’d always aspired for but never achieved, and I was fortunate to have a natural skill that carried me through. But it was never what I wanted for myself.”
“So you dropped out ofDance Momsand applied to work here instead?”
She flattens her lips that way she does when she thinks I’m dumb. “I chose to forgo a career that risked turning something I enjoyed into something I would hate. I pursued the position I currently hold, and still work hard to ensure I do it well. And I save dance for myself, rather than show off for the crowds who might pay to see me. But Anna—”
“Didn’t,” I supply, momentarily setting aside the juicy tidbits of information I had no clue existed before now: the professionally dancing Seraphina Lewis. “She chose to continue on and become famous.”
“Yes. But I knew her, Chief. We were friendly.”
I sit back in my chair so it squeaks on its wheely legs, and lace my fingers together in my lap. “How friendly?”
“Like… we hung out now and then,” she hedges. “We frequented this club we both liked, even after she got famous.”
I lift a brow in surprise. “She still went out, even after her fame? What, with her security?”
Fifi shakes her head, ever so gently. “Makeup and strobe lights can change a woman’s appearance more than enough for her to get away with sneaking around. We didn’t go out drinking together, you understand. We didn’t double date. We never went to each other’s homes. But we went to the clubs and danced for fun.”
“When was the last time you did that?” I’m not a cop.I’m not a cop!And yet, I find myself questioning Fifi.And soon, I’ll be doing the same to the mayor.“Recently?”
She shakes her head a second time. “Not since before her car accident. It’s been months since we even talked.”
“Were you fighting?”
“No. Just… busy. I had a new chief to get to know and understand. Anna had that accident and was dealing with her injury afterwards. Life got in the way, and before either of us realized it, months had passed.”
“You’ll need to tell the detectives everything you’ve told me,” I declare, firm and sure. “Everything. So they can figure out what the hell is going on with her.”
“Do you…Um.” She sniffles and reaches up to swipe beneath her nose, though there’s no mess present. “Accident or suicide?”
