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              Jacob changed places again with Kim.  She drew a long breath, taking in everything that had been said.  “So,” she asked, “do we have any questions?  Comments?  Concerns?”

              Alex again raised his hand, even more hesitantly this time.  Kim looked at him flatly.

              “Yes, Kane.  What is it now?”

              He paused for a second, unable to speak.  Suddenly, the words issued from his mouth faster than he could process them.

              “I think I know her, the victim.”  Eyebrows raised all around the room as everyone turned to look at Alex.  “And what’s more…I think I know who might have killed her.”

              Silence covered the room.  Jacob was the first to break it, sitting up straight with one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed in confusion.

              “Well,” he said.  “That was fast.”

Chapter Seven

              “You know, Detective, I was kidding when I told those girls they could get me into the back seat.”  Alex looked around the rear interior of Kim’s Impala.  “Why do you have a back seat, anyway?  There’s really no point in driving a low-rider with four doors.”

              “Thanks for the input, Kane.”

              Kim slammed the back door of her car with Alex inside.  First Maria, now him—what was it that everyone seemed to have against four-door cars?  Alex was still laughing at his own joke, looking to Officer Phillips in the seat next to him for approval.

              As Jacob sat down rigidly in the passenger seat, Alex rapped on the glass.

              “Hey, quit playing favorites with your partner!  I called shotgun!”

              Kim groaned in irritation as she walked around the front of the car to the other side.  Taking the driver’s seat, she turned to Jacob.  “You ready?”

              Jacob took a deep breath.  “No.  But there’s no sense in waiting; I’ll never be ready.”

              Alex leaned forward, in between the front seats.

              “All right, Detective, from here you’ll want to take FDR Drive up to 1st Avenue.  It should take about ten minutes, around ninety with traffic.”

              She fought the urge to smile at this joke, but lost.  Alex wasted no time in noticing.

              “Well look at that.  You can smile.  I was worried you had one of those can’t-smile-for-the-life-of-me disorders.”  He looked at Jacob.  “Know what I’m talking about, Monk?”

              Jacob didn’t respond to the reference, already engaged in answering the question.

              “You mean Möbius syndrome.  A partial facial paralysis.  It also inhibits the patient’s ability to frown.  So given Detective Daniels’ interactions with you, I believe she most likely doesn’t have it.  However, given my lack of a medical degree, Doctor Langley would be a better source to ask.”

              “She doesn’t have it,” said Phillips, looking at his phone.  “It says here that they can’t move their eyes from side to side.  No way she’d be able to roll her eyes so much.”

              Alex snickered as he looked into the rearview mirror and caught her eyes rolling once again.  He decided not to say anything about it; he’d had his laugh.  He redirected the attention to Jacob.

              “Ready for what?”

              Jacob turned, surprised.  “What?”

              “Exactly.  ‘What?’  She asked if you were ready for something.  Ready for what?”

              “Oh, that,” said Jacob.  “Nothing, really.  I have a mild social phobia, comorbid with avoidance and suicide ideation.”

              “Wow,” said Alex.  “I have no idea what that means, and somehow every part of it still sounded terrible.”

              “You get used to it,” Jacob responded blandly.

              Alex felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord.  “What is suicide ideation?”

              “In layman’s terms, I’d never do it, but I find it comforting to know that it’s always an option.”

              Alex nodded.  “Hmm.”  Maybe I should give him Allen’s number.

              They rode in silence for a few seconds.  Normally Jacob was the one to break these silences, but Kim felt the need to get another jab in on Alex for making her partner feel exposed.

              “Rumor has it you’re pretty messed up yourself, Kane.  I’m surprised you aren’t talking about it.  That’s half of your job, right?  One set of cameras stops rolling and you gallop off to another set for some interview?”

              “Well,” Alex smiled, “I’ve been pretty good about keeping this particular scoop out of the press.  But since you asked, I can be a little bit…I like to call it ‘self-reliant.’”

              Kim laughed.  “Is that what it’s called?  I thought you were just an ass.”

              “If you want to use the medical term, then yes.  At least, I’m assuming that’s the medical term.  It’s what my psychiatrist says all the time.  Heck, I’m surprised he hasn’t posted it online for Craig here to find.”

              Phillips looked up.  “That’s it!”

              Kim eyed him in the rearview mirror.  “What’s that?”

              Typing frantically on his smart phone, Phillips spoke quickly, almost like Jacob on one of his rants.

              “I’ve been searching for Winters on several personal listings, basic internet equivalents to the local phonebook.  But even after Mr. Kane told us in the briefing room that she was an aspiring actress, it didn’t occur to me that I should refine my search on that basis.”  Phillips landed on a page and started scrolling madly, looking for the information he needed.  “See, even the most unheard-of talent doesn’t escape the entertainment industry without some sort of gossip.  Part of the trade-off when trying to get famous is that potential fans immediately start looking for dirt on you.  The internet being what it is, the actor’s family usually sacrifices some privacy, too, whether they like it or not.”

              Alex nodded.  “He’s right.  It’s like when I did my first show, Municipal Airport Diaries.  A lot of people said that my character, Jack Missouri, was actually based on my father’s—”

              “Can it!”  Kim turned around, snapping her fingers at Alex.

              Alex threw his hands up to indicate defeat.  He quickly fell back into his natural posture as he looked through the windshield.

              “Hey, we’re coming up on 49th Street.  You want to turn here.  We aren’t far now.”

              Kim made a weird motion with her head as she faced her eyes back toward the road; she was trying to roll her eyes without actually moving them.

              “Continue, Phillips.”

              “No problem,” he said.  He meant it.  He was a big fan of Alex, and didn’t mind the interruptions.  “Anyway,” he continued, “it appears that Virginia Winters was one of the unfortunate masses whose attempts at fame brought shame to her loved ones.  Check out what someone posted just two days before the murder.”

              He passed the phone to Alex, who read aloud.

              Posted by DatsWutSheSed69:  “Virgin” Winters iz a biger ‘ho den her sistr.  I new her n her bitch uv a sister Marry since grammer skool, and dey ain’t nobuddy.  I no 4rm experience dat Gin n her big sis don’t cost notin’ 2 get on da cam, and I ken b more den willing 2 show proof 2 ne1 who wanna 2 pay me 4 it.

              “Wow, this guy had problems.  And kind of ironic for him to call it ‘grammar school.’  He didn’t even spell it right.”  Alex handed the phone back to Phillips.