The Pink Palace Murders

Previously

…And then she was gone, leaving Isabella alone in the quiet interrogation room, the scent of her perfume – something exotic and intoxicating – lingering in the air. Isabella stared at the closed door, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. Sofia Ramirez was a suspect, yes. But she was also something more. A riddle. A siren song. And Isabella, the sharp, analytical detective, felt herself dangerously close to being drawn into the depths of her mystery. The thrumming in her gut had intensified, no longer a low hum, but a persistent, urgent pulse. This was no ordinary murder case. And Sofia Ramirez was no ordinary suspect. The game, Isabella knew, had just begun.