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.
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...
"I can't believe you bought that piece of junk," George Walters grumbled. It was a faux marble statue of Venus, standing on a weathered wooden clamshell. And it was ugly.