always red.

Chapter 12 - Luz

Ezra

I was called into Blaise's office. Most would be intimidated by having to meet with their authority figure. I wasn't. I hadn't done anything wrong in my eyes.

She was on the phone when I knocked on the door, motioning for me to come in.

"Uh-huh...yea...yea I got it."

She smiled at me for a split second, holding her index finger up.

"Ok, bye-bye."

She hung up her phone and crossed her arms on her desk, cheesing at me.

It felt awkward. I didn't know whether to look away or say something.

"Do you know why you're here?" She asked, never breaking her grin.

"Am I supposed to?" I answered.

She gawped at me.

"What do you know about cold cases, detective?" Blaise quizzed. She stood up, now walking slowly around the room.

Was this a trick question?

"A cold case is a criminal investigation that has not been solved and remains open, but has been inactive for a long period of time, typically several years or more."

"Well, you've got the theory down pat." She responded, now getting closer and closer to me.

I felt like she was a shark in the water and I was her bloody prey.

"Cold cases need to be solved within a certain amount of time. If they aren't...then the board will give it someone else. Someone perhaps more competent. Las Angeles has over nine thousand unsolved homicide cases. Nine thousand!" She exclaimed.

"With all due respect, Mrs. Blaise-"

"Detective Blaise." She corrected.

"Detective," I croaked, clearing my throat. "The N.L. case is a wonder. It's distinct, like a Rubik's cube. One just shouldn't skim over its details lightly. I believe I am the best candidate for this case. There is so much that hasn't been discovered. And Claire and I-"

"Claire?" She interjected. "What business do you and Claire have?"

I was dumbfounded. Thinking back to what detective Crosby was telling me the other day, I had a feeling that the powers that be didn't appreciate different specialties conversing together, which didn't make sense at all.

"First of all," She began. "You're giving the Naomi Love case a nickname. Stop that, I don't like it. Secondly, you and Claire have nothing to talk about. Period. And if I hear tell of you and her discussing cases, I'll have to take matters into my own hands. Got it?"

"Y-yes. Got it." I stammered.

"You and Crosby have one week to put a period on this case. If you can't, I'll find someone else who will. Thank you." She returned to her seat flashing the same Cheshire grin she had on earlier.

"Thank you." She repeated, darting her eyes towards the door.

I guess it was my cue to leave.

_

Claire lived in Brentwood, home of O.J.

Apparently, her grandma used to live here before she died. She gave the house to Claire. It was hard to believe this big house was all hers.

She seemed so small in it.

"Hey, did you find the house okay?"

I hated when people asked that question after you arrive. Obviously, I found the house or I wouldn't be here.

"Yea, it was an easy find." I responded.

"Good. Well, here it is."

She opened up the door to her house. We entered the kitchen. It was pretty. Homely. Safe.

"I like it." I chimed.

We sat at the kitchen table. She offered me a drink. We both had Riesling.

There was something about drinking in the middle of the day. I wasn't sure if this was Claire's usual thing to do but something told me it was.

I was loosening up a bit and so was she.

"So...I had a meeting with Blaise today at work." I began.

"Oh really?" She asked through a laugh.

"Something about how we're taking too long with the case and..." I slurred. "That we shouldn't be talking."

"Who is we?"

"You and I. Crosby said we shouldn't either. I don't know but apparently, we aren't supposed to."

I drank another swig of my wine.

"That's a strange rule." She remarked.

"Very strange. Almost as strange as Crosby telling me about you. I don't see anything wrong with being enthralled in your work. It shouldn't be a one-way ticket to therapy."

I had put my foot in my mouth.

I didn't realize it until after. Way after.

She took her cup to the sink, pouring the rest of her wine down the drain and rinsing the cup out.

"You got any more?" I asked from the table, stupidly.

Before she could answer, a woman entered the house from the back door. She looked Hispanic, middle aged. Grey roots peeking from her black bun. She had on a traditional maid uniform.

"I get it." The lady said blankly. She poured me another glass and set it on the table in front of me.

"You guys working on the Love case?" She asked with a thick Spanish accent.

"Who's asking?" I mumbled.

"I am." She answered sternly. "I knew her. You guys better be taking it serious."

I was intimidated. Claire could tell.

"Ezra, this is Luz." Claire introduced. "She's like family."

"Don't worry, I am just the help."

Claire looked at me, noticing I was in desperate need of an explanation.

"Luz used to work with my grandmother..."

"Long time ago." Luz insisted.

I found it interestingly odd that Claire's grandmother had a maid. It sounded like Claire's grandmother was a maid herself and once she came across her fortune, she reached back and gave Luz a job.

But wait...let me rewind something.

"You knew Naomi Love?"

"Ezra." Claire whispered behind Luz's back.

"I did. I know Claire doesn't want me to get involved too much. I respect her wishes. But I knew her. I worked for her family many years ago. She was such a sweet girl." She answered.

I found it even more odd that Claire hasn't told me this information nor does she want Luz to help with information on the case at all.

If she really was hiding something, why did she invite me to her home in the first place?

"Don't mind me. I'll start upstairs, mija." Said Luz before grabbing her cleaning equipment and heading upstairs.

"She insists she continue helping out around the house even though I have told her she doesn't have to." Explained Claire. "She's more like family. She loves cleaning this house she says."

I nodded, my tipsy state wearing off.

"Can I have a glass of water?"

"Sure,"

Peering out the window, I noticed a black BMW parked in the driveway.