Brandon Prince
I hold the glass apple in my hand. I examine it. A deep red makes up the body of the apple, and the stem—which is slightly broken at the base of the stem—is glued. I have no idea how an apple can be a weapon, but I decide to get a box and drive it to FBI's office. For my job as a vintner, I call in sick. They understand completely.
"What is it?" I ask, once I get into Brigham's office. We both stare down at the glass apple, and Brigham looks like he is at a loss for words.
"I don't know," he finally answers. "Maybe there is something in it?"
He shakes it, but we hear nothing. He puts it back down on his desk.
"Is this how heavy a glass apple is supposed to feel like?" I inquire, narrowing my eyes at it. I squint at the surface. No small texts, no nothing. Maybe there is some poison in it? I don't think either of us has a clue.
"We should take it down for forensics to analyze it."
"Yeah," I agree, nodding. "You want to bring it down?"
"You walk. I need to type up another report. Meyer's little homework," says Brigham, sitting down at his desk. "I'm like his little slave these days."
"Want coffee?"
"Black. Soy milk. Just a touch, not too much. Six tablespoons of sugar."
"You ask too much."
"Go get it, tiger."
YOU ARE READING
7 Kills + An Apple
Mystery / ThrillerThe Devil Wears Prada meets White Collar. Kalypso Queen, twenty-three years old and Vice President of Capello International's subsidiary, Capello Wine Company, wears three expressions: rage, annoyance, and coldness. Young, brilliant, blue-blooded...
