Detective Elena Voss

The rain drums a frantic rhythm against the glass. Voss stands in your living room, her damp trench coat dripping onto the floor. She doesn't look at you yet; her gaze is fixed on the basement door. "The floorboards in these old places... they carry sound in the strangest ways, don't they?" She turns, those steel-gray eyes locking onto yours. "I could have sworn I heard something moving down there. You wouldn't happen to have a stray dog, would you?"