WIP Wednesday
I was reading NYC real estate listings and being melancholy over the fact that I'll never afford any of them... BUT the Tracy's could so what a wonderful setting for a story. So I started writing this in between my main WIP and then got hooked. Anyone interested in a Tracy murder mystery? XD
CW: murder and a body
*****
Scott sits down on one of the plush lounges. Casey remains upright, her posture dead straight, gazing into the expansive room ahead of her. “This is a beautiful apartment, Scott.” Her eyes flick to the large kitchen on her left.
“Casey, what is going on?” Scott doesn’t feel like formalities, and can sense something is deeply, deeply wrong.
“A tourist pilot called us to report there was… a body, on your balcony.”
Scott's breathing hitches, and he stands up. “There’s a what on my balcony?”
Casey steps forward, planting a hand on his shoulder. “Your apartment is a crime scene. I have to ask you to stay here.”
“There’s a fucking body on my balcony and you want me to stay here?” Scott stares up at the older woman and senses the unspoken words between them.
“There is not a single person who can access this apartment besides… you and Virgil, at the moment. Not even management could get up here. And that balcony is enclosed.”
“What are you suggesting, Casey?”
Casey fixes him with a stern look. “Have you had contact with Virgil in the last 2 and a half hours?”
“What?”
“Have you, Mr Tracy?” She glances over at the library.
“No, I haven’t. What are you suggesting, that Virgil came home, murdered someone, and left a damn dead body on the fucking balcony?”
“Mr Tracy, the NYPD requested a GDF flyover after confirming the balcony belonged to you. I was in the craft.” Colonel Casey stops, her composure slipping for a second.
Scott can’t help himself, and stands up, quickly heading towards his library. Casey steps forward just as fast, and grabs him around the chest, spinning him to face her.
Scott throws her hands off, angrily. “Casey, what the fuck?”
“Scott. I was up on that craft. There’s a body just feet away from us.” She gestures upwards, and the officers surge forward, past Scott. “And I provided ID on it. If it’s not Virgil up there then… I’ve forgotten what you boys look like.”
Scott’s world dissolves into white, but Casey keeps talking. “And you, Mr Tracy, are now the only person who could have accessed that balcony between those hours.”