He was a gumshoe, and not a very brilliant kind, but determined.
She was a dizzy brunnette, who had come to the city supposedly a naive cowgirl, but he suspected otherwise, as too many pieces didn't fit. Her story was too pat, and even a little contrived. Those green eyes said something to him, but what were they saying? That he had lost his mind in their gaze?That he had lost his professionalism in a sea of emerald glass? He knew he had to shake this and get back on track. After all...a murder had been committed...or had it?