American Detective: Starting as a Rookie Cop in an American TV Show

Chapter 1275: Beckett's Guilty Heart
"You mean the kind that got killed?"

Castle shrugged, earning a glare from Beckett. "We're here regarding the murder of your colleague, Ella Hayes."

"Murdered? Are you serious?" The female assistant's eyes widened and her voice sounded like tears.

Just then, the elevator door opened with a "ding" sound, and an old woman with silver-white hair, two huge dark gold earrings, a Dior bag, and black lace gloves on her hands stepped out of the elevator.

She was wearing a Valentino suit that was obviously expensive just by looking at the style. Her bangs were curled high and then tied into an S shape to cover the left side of her forehead. It was a bit similar to the hairstyle Superman had at some point in the old American TV series "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman".

The female assistant didn't bother to talk nonsense with the three men and rushed over at almost the speed of a 100-meter sprint. Jack's eyes subconsciously focused on the high heels on her feet.

Jack was very confident that his body balance and coordination were definitely not inferior to the world's top acrobats, but he thought he would not be able to move freely on the smooth ground in high heels like her.

"I don't understand why it is so difficult to just confirm an appointment." The old woman complained as she walked, and she turned sideways to dodge the female assistant who was unable to stop the car.

"I know. I'm so sorry. I did confirm your beauty appointment last night." The female assistant hurriedly handed over the notebook filled with schedule.

The old woman interrupted her in a very scathing tone, "I am not interested in your detailed explanation of your incompetence."

After briefly glancing at the daily schedule, she threw the notebook back to the female assistant, “Tell Simone that I don’t like the girl she interviewed for the Brazilian version.

What I want is a clean, sporty, smiling and sunny type, not a dirty, greasy fat woman who relies on LGBT+ to get ahead.

Also reply to Mike Cox that I will be attending his party and tell the driver to drop me off there at 9:9 tonight and pick me up on time at 45:."

The female assistant followed behind her, writing furiously, until she suddenly stopped.

"New guy?" The old woman stopped in front of Jack and suddenly reached out her hand to touch his chest without any warning. She said, "Great muscle lines. Not the type who eats protein powder in the gym. Turn around and let me see."

Jack followed her finger and turned half a circle, but when she reached out to slap his butt, he blocked it and said, "I suggest you don't do this, Ms. Priestley. Assaulting an FBI agent is a felony."

"FBI?" The old woman flicked her wrist, and seemed to realize that the attire of the three uninvited guests in front of her seemed to have nothing in common with the fashion circle.

"Who are you?" The assistant who was asked the question was still confused. She seemed to have heard something about NYPD before, and didn't understand how it became FBI in the blink of an eye.

Beckett, who had been hiding behind Cassel at some point, finally couldn't help but show up. While holding up the police badge, he seemed a little guilty and half-covered his face.

"Uh we're from the NYPD and we want to ask you a few questions, Ms. Priestley."

Unexpectedly, Miranda Priestley recognized her at a glance, "Kate Beckett?!"

Not to mention Jack and Cassel standing by, even Beckett himself didn't expect that after so many years, he could still be recognized by the other party at a glance.

As if she had read her mind, Miranda Priestley pointed her finger at her and said, "I will never forget those smooth cheekbones."

"Wait, so you two have known each other for a long time?" Cassel's eyes moved back and forth between their faces. Beckett's face had been flushed without him noticing. After hesitating for a moment, he nodded in agreement, "Yes, when I wanted to be a model, but my entire career lasted less than 15 minutes."

Cassel's expression became interesting, as if everything that had happened before was explained. "You mean you were a new model for Project Runway?"

"I gave her a two-page spot on the January 2011 edition, and the cover star was Taylor Swift."

Miranda Priestley still had a somewhat resentful expression on her face, "But you refused at that time. So far, you are the only, oh, the only two people who have said 'no' to me."

She pointed at Beckett and glanced at Jack with interest. "I'm sorry I'm so busy today, but you two are both great. We can make an appointment another day."

"I'm sorry that you have to hear the word 'no' again." Jack quickly interrupted her movement to turn around.

Beckett continued, "We have a few questions for you regarding your assistant, Ella Hayes, and we are representing the NYPD."

Miranda Priestley was obviously stunned for a moment, glanced at the uneasy female assistant beside her and nodded, "Okay, then let's talk in my office. Don't answer any calls for the time being."

"Oh, I forgot to say that Deputy Editor Julian Bruckner is waiting in your office." The female assistant took small steps and wanted to open the door for several people, but after Miranda Priestley waved her hand, she obediently hid aside.

"By the way, Ella is my former assistant."

After saying this, Miranda Prisley raised her chin, held her head high like a queen, and took the initiative to walk in front.

Jack blinked and finally remembered a classic old movie that he had long thrown into the corner of his memory - "The Bridges of Madison County". If the wrinkles on the face of the person in front of him were removed, she would look exactly like the heroine Francesca in the movie.

All offices and conference rooms on this floor are separated by glass, so almost everything can be seen, except for the office in front of everyone.

Miranda Prisley pushed the door open and walked in. The middle-aged man who had been wearing a pink shirt and even a bright pink tie was already waiting behind the door with a respectful look on his face.

"Wait a moment, Julian." The female editor interrupted the pink guy who was about to speak, picked up the sparkling water on the table, took a sip, and sat down at her seat.

The three people who followed in had no intention of sitting down, but stood beside the meeting chair in front of the desk.

Beckett asked directly, "Excuse me, what do you mean by 'former assistant'?"

"I fired her yesterday afternoon because she had messed up my schedule more than once and even made me late for the most recent board meeting.

She made the same mistake last week, keeping our new boss at the magazine waiting for 45 minutes.”

Miranda Priestley opened the paper box with the Ferragamo logo on the table as she spoke, took out a pair of high heels with heels so sharp that they could be used as a weapon, and put them on in front of several people.

(End of this chapter)