Smoke and Mirrors (Detective!Smoker x Reader)

Part 1

It was all over the papers—Vegas Magician Dead in Performance Freak Accident. The media had flocked to Las Vegas despite the oppressive heat in hopes of being the first to catch the scoop of the century. When Detective Smoker pulled up on his black BMW R75 motorcycle, he had to push his way through the crowds surrounding the Rain Dinners Hotel and Casino—a feat that was not difficult for him considering his six feet and nine inches towered over everyone else by a non-insignificant margin. He must have struck a fearsome sight in black wrap around shades and a leather biker jacket even in the dry heat of the desert.

He ducked under the yellow and black striped police tape and stopped at the entrance to snuff out his cigars—they wouldn't let him smoke at the crime scene. He took the opportunity to look up at the casino in all its gaudy glory. It was shaped like a pyramid, thirty stories of gold and glass that gleamed in the early morning sun, towering over the hotels surrounding it. At its very peak sat perched a huge, golden crocodile, leering down at the crowd gathered on the sidewalk below with a jagged smile. Smoker grimaced back at it and stepped through the glass double doors into the air-conditioned lobby.

His partner, Tashigi, greeted him with a coffee in her outstretched hand—black and bitter and scalding hot, just the way he liked it. He nodded his thanks.

The crowd of police officers and forensics investigators parted for them as they approached the body, already supine in its body bag on the gurney. The distinct smell of charred flesh still hung heavy in the air.

"What a horrible way to go," Tashigi sighed.

Smoker grunted in agreement, peeling back the corner of the body bag to examine the corpse. It was burnt beyond the point of recognition. They would need to compare his dental records if they had any hope of identifying him.

But was there any need? Everyone already knew the identity of the body in that bag. Basil Hawkins was famous and news of a celebrity death always travelled fast. Smoker had already heard three wildly different retellings of the event from individuals claiming they had been there when it happened on his way into the casino. He would have laughed at them if he hadn't already known he would be expected to interview every single one of them.

What a fucking waste of time, he thought.

"Have you spoken with the assistant?" he asked Tashigi.

"Not yet," she replied. "I was waiting until you got here."

"Let's go then."

The assistant turned out to be a young woman, possibly in her mid-twenties. Her makeup was smeared and her eyes were rimmed in red but it was obvious she was suited to the glamorous lifestyle typical of a Vegas performer. Her shoulders were squared proudly beneath the heavy coat that had been draped around them and a slinky red satin dress clung tightly to her frame, a daring slit up the side that reached high enough for even Smoker to have to tear his eyes away from the smooth sliver of thigh it revealed. Her arms and legs were crossed in a stand-offish manner, one six-inch heeled foot tapping the air impatiently.

They approached.

"Are you Miss [Last Name]?"

She nodded.

"We're detectives with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. I'm Detective Smoker, this is my partner Detective Tashigi. Mind if we ask you a few questions?"

She glanced briefly at their presented badges and narrowed her eyes at them. "I've been answering questions all night, Detectives. I would really appreciate it if I could go back to my room and get some sleep."

"My apologies for keeping you up, Miss, we just want to be thorough. We won't take too much more of your time."

"Fine," she sighed, pressing her perfectly manicured fingers to her temples. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and turned her gaze expectantly towards them. "How can I help?"

Smoker caught Tashigi's eye and she returned his look of disdain. They both sat down on the couch across from the woman. Her foot continued its endless tapping and she refused to meet their eyes, instead choosing to settle on a spot somewhere just over Smoker's shoulder.

"You were Basil Hawkins' assistant, is that correct?"

"That's correct."

"You were on stage when the, uh... incident occurred?"

"I was." Her voice shook ever so slightly at the recalled memory.

"Can you tell us a bit about that specific part of the act?"

He looked down at her hands, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. "You know, it was his stupid idea to set himself on fire in the first place. These damn magicians, always trying to one-up each other with more and more dangerous stunts. He should have been wearing fire repellant clothing, but... I don't know how this could have happened! We go through rigorous safety checks every night to make sure something like this neverhappens!"

Smoker leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Did you happen to see anything suspicious before the show? Any people backstage that shouldn't have been there?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing like that. I mean, it's always chaos right before a show. If anything did happen, I would have been too busy with preparations to notice."

Smoker nodded. Tashigi jotted down her notes, pausing briefly to wait for the next question.

"Just one last question, if that's alright with you, Miss [Name]?"

She motioned him to go ahead.

"Can you think of anyone that would have wanted to hurt Mr. Hawkins? Anyone who might have held a grudge?"

"I thought the police were treating this as an accident?" she replied cautiously.

Smoker shrugged. "That very well may be, but we can't rule anything out at this point in the investigation."

[Name] hesitated, then took a breath, speaking slowly. "Our line of work is incredibly competitive, especially in an environment such this. Basil and I had to be cut-throat to get where we are today. It wouldn't surprise me if we pissed off a few people along the way."

"Enough to want him dead?"

"I don't know. Am I free to go now?"

Smoker eyed the woman carefully for a long moment, and she stared back, meeting his steely gaze dead on for the first time that morning. Her eye contact remained unwavering, just daring him to doubt her words in the slightest. If he wasn't careful, he was sure those eyes could swallow him whole. He blinked, breaking the contact, and got to his feet. Tashigi followed, stowing her notepad away in her bag.

"Thank you for your time, Miss [Name]." He rummaged in his pocket for his card and held it out to her. "If you think of anything else that might be relevant to this investigation, please don't hesitate to call me."

She took the card, glancing between the number—printed in simple black ink across the paper—and his face. She smiled, tight-lipped, and tucked the card into the front of her bodice. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly as she caught his eyes following the movement.

"Of course, Detective." He didn't miss the distinct purr to her voice as she spoke the words, sending a pleasant tingle up his spine.

He could feel her eyes on the back of his neck all the way back to the front of the lobby. He had a sneaking suspicion they would not be seeing the last of that woman. Not by a long shot.

"So, what's next?" Tashigi asked.

"I'm thinking we should go have a little chat with the owner of the casino. Shall we?"

"Lead the way."