Camile
I wake feeling sore and hungover, my mind still racing from the information Matthew had given me. With a newfound determination, I decide to pay a visit to Jason"s daughter.
The elevator opens to Natalie McClure"s high-rise apartment. She is a tall, slender woman with long, curly brown hair and green eyes. She glances at me briefly before returning her attention to the magazine in her hands, offering no greeting. A housekeeper ushers me in.
"Hello, Natalie," I say. "I"m Camile. I"m assisting with the investigation into your father"s murder."
"I know who you are." Her voice is emotionless. "Like I said on the phone, I don"t think I can offer you anything of substance."
"I—"
"Sit down," she commands, finally meeting my eyes. "Might as well. This won"t take long."
I sit opposite
