It was probably a bad idea to fall in love with a client, but I couldn’t help myself. Alejandra was intoxicating, more so than any liquor I’d ever tasted. I felt like a kid again, and every second spent talking to her made me want to solve her case not as a matter of professional pride, but as a means of impressing her. Too many times, I nearly slipped, nearly told her that I knew exactly where the trumpeter was. Nearly told her that I’d be meeting him again soon. And once we’d finished and I’d escorted her to her car, I agreed too quickly when she said we should meet up again.