Monthly mini-mystery with a twist
Dewey Rafer had never met anyone's expectations of him. He was such a screw-up, that no matter how he worked the angles, something always went wrong.
There was one thing Sally loved shopping for above all else: women who were careless with their credit cards.
The lights were dim, so low I could hardly make out who was in the room with me. Annoyed, I picked my way to the center where the chairs were.
Martin Coe was a monolithic individual, with whisky-veined features and eyes as warm as frozen Alaskan tundra. In the month I have known him, he had never openly displayed emotion of any kind -- until this very minute. Now, he leaned forward across...