always red.

Chapter 8 - magic puzzle

Ezra

I never really liked snow cones.

But I liked them with her.

Claire and I decided to meet up outside of the office in order to discuss the case more thoroughly. We weren't necessarily working in the same "field" I guess. In order to draw less attention to our chatter, we chose Jerry's snow cones.

"What kind did you get?" I asked her.

She hesitated with a quaint grin.

"Why?"

"Just asking. I got purple limeade."

"Why purple?" She quizzed.

"I don't know. I've always liked purple. It calms me."

"I got blue raspberry. I like the color blue."

"Why?" I asked.

"It calms me."

She smiled cheekily for just a millisecond.

"Let's focus on the case, shall we?"

"Absolutely,"

For about two hours we went through everything thoroughly. I loved every second of it. The intricacy of the details captivated me something serious.

This was a magic puzzle.

"So, basically this wasn't a robbery, correct?" I suggested.

"Ehh, that's not my expertise. I'm just here to give you the facts."

"Oh, come on. You know the facts. I don't believe this was a simple robbery gone wrong."

"How come?"

"There's too many holes." I began. "Ski's? Who kills over a pair of ski's?"

She paused, chewing her ice slowly.

"And a car. And do you know how much a good pair of ski's are worth?"

"Hundreds, possibly thousands." I answered

"...you've done your homework."

"I'm a detective. Homework is a part of my job description."

"What else do you know?" She nodded.

"She was mangled and shot after a beating. No one has physically seen the killer and who robs the safest neighborhood in Las Angeles in broad daylight?"

Claire thumbed through the manila folder that she gave me the other day.

I already read through everything for the past several nights.

Along with the ski's being stolen, there were these obscure photos of Cyan sent to his mother's house from an anonymous sender.

There was also the whole bit about the marriage license being stolen from the scene.

Obviously, Naomi showed signs of a struggle: defensive wounds on hands and fingernails, bruises, scratches and a bite mark on her arm.

She hadn't been expecting guests, so this was a surprise visit. She had on a pink robe and rollers in her hair.

And then there was Naomi's job.

"Naomi was a nurse."

A very good one, apparently. She graduated from high school at sixteen and from nursing school at twenty from one of the most prestigious nursing schools in California.

She was smart.

"She worked at Rasmussen Medical."

It used to be the best hospital in the west. She had become head nurse at just twenty-three.

"According to an anonymous report, Naomi was approached at her job and an altercation ensued."

"Approached?"

"That's all it says."

"I know but..."

There was a missing piece in the puzzle.

"What more do we know about this altercation?" I asked.

"Not much. But we do have a lead from someone named Paloma who worked with Naomi and went to nursing school with her."

"That's perfect." I proclaimed. "That's amazing. What else did she say?"

"That's it. She just gave us a lead and said she wanted to help us with more information that she knows. I can only assume that she was the anonymous link."

You know what they say about assuming.

I moved on.

"What do we know about the husband?" I queried.

"Cyan?"

"Yes. I'd like to know more about him."

Claire smirked cheekily again.

"Are you proposing we create a suspect list?"

"Why not?"

"Isn't that you and Crosby's job?"

"A job is a job."

And so it is.