It was a dark and stormy night, when suddenly a figure darkened the door of office.

“We’re closed,” I shouted at the glass, but she burst in anyways. It was a damsel in considerable distress (as is the way with Damsels, it seems). I looked up from my evening meal of black coffee and brown whiskey at the glowing dame. I don’t usually take a case during my dinnertime, especially after the last one; what a doozy that one was!

“Listen toots,” I spat, “this better be good, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now and my glass is still full.” The ice shifted as uneasily as I did in the mug before I brought it to my lips. I braced for the onslaught of estrogenical ramblings that only a fool could stomach and apparently, tonight, I was that fool.

I gestured at the chair on the other side of the desk and slid the ashtray to one side. The brim of my fedora glowed from the lighter as I lit another cigarette. I had a feeling I would need it.

She took a seat and began her story. This case began, as all good cases do, in Alaska. Why, you may ask? Who knows, but here I am again. We compared notes on the usuals: family history, criminal backgrounds, professional accreditations, etc. and when she finished her hysterics, I heaved the smoke from my lungs. I thought I was a private eye, but apparently I’m a private ear. But, I was intrigued, to say the least.

I took the case and began my initial investigations: walking the beat, talking to lowlifes surrounding the city.but it was not meant to be as she rushed out suddenly and without explanation in the milieux of the usual holiday trappings.

The patter continued like rain on the glass until it stopped suddenly and without explanation……..

No but now that Drew has rambled. We met online.

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