Red_Roses_and_Black_Dahlias_-_Macy_T

“I never fucking ordered it, detective.” His tone matched mine and Adam,
ever the peace-holder, felt the need to intervene before it escalated.
“Mr. Michaels, your name and signature were on the receipt, the
locksmith recognized you from a picture we showed him and we checked the
dates and times with the days you were working. Everything proves you did
make that copy and all we’re asking is why.”
Conan took a deep breath to seemingly calm himself and was about to
speak when suddenly the door opened. We all turned towards the intruder,
only to see a short blond girl with bangs and glasses entering quietly.
She was wearing a simple short black skirt and long-sleeved white shirt
—like fucking everyone here, with black flats. Only thing is she accessorized
her outfit with a pair of satiny white gloves and a cute white bow holding a
part of her hair to the side. On top of the outfit, the girl had a real baby face
and couldn’t have been a day older than seventeen. Even that was pushing it,
actually.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw us, looking down shyly.
“Oh I-I’m sorry, Mr. Michaels. I didn’t know you had company. Your
secretary told me to bring you some water like you requested earlier.” Her
voice was sweet and soft, it almost sounded vulnerable. Somehow, this
whole situation sent a shiver of something down my spine but I couldn’t quite
say what or why.
Conan’s face totally changed, it contorted back to that friendly, smiling,
almost charming face he knew how to use so well.
“Oh please, don’t apologize. Bring it here, thank you—?”
“Jane.” She supplied with a shy smile, pushing her glasses up on her
nose.
“Right. Jane. I don't even remember asking for water, I have so much
work I forget about my most basic needs sometimes.”