The pounding in my head is so familiar; I barely notice the effect of last night's tape. What is unfamiliar to us is the aroma of coffee. I open one eye, in case there is a body lying next to me. The bed is empty, but the bedside table shows evidence of another existence; a half-smoked cigarette slowly disappears into an ashtray. Oh Jesus, what did I do last night? I hate awkward conversations the next day. I put on my clothes from yesterday and rush out quickly. I hear her in the kitchen and to get out of the house I have to pass her. “Hello stranger. Is drinking coffee or scotch your favorite morning drink? » His generous smile and his hoarse, nicotine-laced voice remind me that I still have an hour before I have to report to the office. But it's better not to repeat it again, so as not to hurt anyone. “I’m already late.” Is my car in front? » "It's parked in the driveway, I drove us here." Your keys are near the front door. Will I see you again? » Might as well let her down easily. “Yeah, you’ll see me again.” » I don't remember his name anymore. My office is like my home. No other place is more welcoming. As I enter my floor of the building, my new personal assistant approaches me. “Sir, there is a woman waiting for you in your office. She says she's being charged with murder. I told her you wouldn't be here until noon, but she insisted you be on the case. Quite a fox in fact. » “Thanks for the update George. » I walk into my office and the woman is sitting in front of my desk with her back to the door. As I sit down, I examine it without saying a word. I've often been called intimidating, but she doesn't even flinch. Hair in a bun, pinstriped skirt suit and short black shoes....... middle of paper ......d very rich. Finding out that your husband will end up bedridden and in your care has disgusted you. And you couldn't leave him, what would people think of you if you left a sick husband to fend for himself? So you killed him, got all his money, and blamed the nanny. » “I want my lawyer. » "I'll leave it to you, partner." Mrs. Wedler, come with me. I'm taking you to town for questioning about your husband's murder. Bob Jones drags Ms. Wedler out of my office, taking with him the medical records I was holding. I find myself alone with the vixen. " Shit. I worked for her for three years. How could she kill her husband? » "Why don't we discuss this over a scotch?" Come on, I know a perfect bar, and you're already dressed for the occasion. » As I open the car door for him, I add, "I think it's time for a real introduction." My name is Detective Jason Eagles..”