Brian raised his eyebrows. He was picking up some seriously naive vibes from the woman. His mouth twisted in a smile. “Yeah, the owner was shot about six feet from where you’re standing,” he said. “Actually… you’re at the point of origin. Probably about the same height as the shooter, too. Hang on.”

He went under the tape and maneuvered behind her. He took her by the shoulders and looked past her hair. “Do me a favor, hold up your arm.”

All of it was bullshit. She was nowhere near the place where the trigger had been pulled and he knew it. If he couldn’t screw around with a stranger at a crime scene, what was the point of being awake at three in the morning?