I tried to remember the last time I had chosen something to watch for myself instead of sitting through whatever Elizabeth or my parents had selected. "I don't know. News, mostly. Whatever was on."
He made a sound that might have been disapproval. "That's not watching TV. That's background noise."
He flipped through channels and settled on a crime drama. "Sit down. You're making me nervous standing there."
I sat on the opposite end of the couch, keeping a careful distance between us.
The show was violent and confusing—I had missed too many episodes to understand the plot—but I found myself watching anyway. Not the screen, exactly, but the way Vance watched it. He relaxed into the cushions, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, his face neutral even during tense scenes.
"You're not watching," he said without looking at me.
"I don't know what's happening."
"Guy on the left killed someone. Guy on the right is trying to prove it. That's all you need to know."
"That's... reductive."
"It's accurate." He glanced over. "You don't have to watch if you don't want to."
"No, I—" I turned back to the screen. "Wait. Why does he think the guy on the left did it?"
"Because he found blood on his jacket."
"But they were at a butcher shop earlier. In that flashback. Couldn't it be animal blood?"
Vance paused and looked at me. "You caught that?"
"It was obvious. The camera lingered on his sleeve when he brushed against the counter."
"Huh." He returned his attention to the screen. "Most people don't notice things like that."
"I was trained to notice details. Architecture requires it." I watched as the detective continued his accusation. "See? He's going to realize his mistake. The real killer is the woman from the beginning, the one who was too helpful."
"You think?"
"She established an alibi within the first five minutes. Nobody does that unless they need one."
Twenty minutes later, I was proven right.
Vance stared at the credits rolling on screen. "How did you know?"
"The details didn't add up. She said she was at the gym, but her hair was styled. Nobody styles their hair before the gym." I shrugged. "Also, the actress was too famous to be a minor character."
"That's cheating."
"That's observation."
He shook his head, but there was a hint of respect in his expression. "You want to watch another one?"
"Only if you promise not to spoil it with your one-sentence summaries."
"I wasn't spoiling. I was providing context."
"You said 'guy on the left killed someone.' He didn't kill anyone."
"I was working with incomplete information."
"You were wrong. I was right." I couldn't help but smile. "So no more summaries."
