The CEO's Son is a Serial Killer

IX.II Powderkeg

Liz, for one of the few times in her life, thanked whatever god there was that she was unable to speak on impulse anymore. It was hard to say a straight-faced lie to what she considered to be a walking, talking lie-detector in terms of pure instinct alone, but years of dealing with the girl had given her enough leeway for the redhead to trust her simply on word alone.

The fact that her voice was entirely artificial also helped. Probably.

"When was last contact?" the blonde detective asked, one hand on her neck as the other continued to check the presumed crime area for clues.

"Just before eight," Heather replied,