Brigit had just graduated from Keene a year ago. We were in the same general studies class last year. Ivy turned back to the screen, scanning the story. A shooting here would have made sense, because there were shootings here all the time. But I worked in Renmawr, which was a twenty-minute drive from Keene, and home to Irish mobsters the O’Shaunessys. After all, I’d never make it as a private detective if nothing happened around here. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t crime in the area. But I never thought it would happen at Keene. I mean, I know they have these things all the time all over the country. Brigit was sitting in the only available one. I wanted to sink into a chair, but there wasn’t a chair to sink into. It was a nice little college, located in the small town of Keene, where nothing bad happened at all. Shooting at Keene College.īrigit and I had both graduated from Keene College, albeit over a decade apart. I eased in behind her, looking over her shoulder. She sat down behind her desk and pointed at her computer screen. I got up out of my desk and followed Brigit into the outer office. There was also a small waiting area out there for clients.

One was my inner office, and the other was the outer office where Brigit’s desk was. There were only so many times that I could reorganize my files. Well, what is it? I had to admit that I was grateful for the distraction. I’d solved a murder and proved that their leader, Gunner Bray, was innocent. The last client had been the Clayton Society. These days, I was letting her help out with investigations occasionally as well. I was a private detective, and Brigit’s job was to talk to the clients before I talked to them. She was standing in the doorway to my office, her eyes wide. Oh my God, Ivy, you’re not going to believe this, said my assistant Brigit Johansen.

Skin and Blond by V.J. Chambers