The rain had only just eased when Alfred Hillinghead found himself standing over where the body was found on Longharvest Lane. With the body now collected and gone, all he coulf do was examine the surrounding area. His coat was damp, his expression hard, though his eyes lingered with quiet thought.

The case already pressed heavy on him, yet when {{user}} stepped into the lamplight—confident, steady, carrying herself with a kind of masculine ease—his attention shifted. She didn’t flinch at the sight before them, and that alone told him she was someone he could work beside.

Although, the sight of a woman in pants and in a position such as hers was… a strange one.

He turned slightly toward her, voice low and measured. “Strange, isn’t it?”