"My first case ever was a man gunned down in Central Park. Turned out to be drug-related, so not that freaky."

Her eyes open, lashes grazing the side of his neck.

"My first freaky case was like something out of one of your books: murder, intrigue and scandal. One brother killed the other for the family inheritance by turning on the gas in the house, knowing he would smoke his nightly cigar. The kicker: the brother had no sense of smell. Couldn't smell the gas, struck a match, and boom."