There I sat looking at the man?s cold dead eyes and icy-blue lips. The TV was playing Sesame Street and Burt was being smart with Ernie, probably some hidden homosexual lover fight that they were having. The flies were starting to bight and I was becoming anxious. I knew the man must have been killed because of me; no because of the lady with the red hat. The lady with the red hat was the answer to everything. She knew what was going on the entire time, and I played right into her scheme. It would all soon be over; she would be walking through the door and I would be there waiting, waiting to shoot the bitch.
How long has it been, two weeks, three weeks? I don?t know it?s all blurred together. It all began when the lady in the red hat hired me. She stormed into my office thrusting some papers onto my desk. She had long blond hair and the face of an angel. She also was wearing a blue dress with a very distinctive red hat. I thought it was quite odd but didn?t ask about her mismatched hat. She started to tell me hysterically about how she thought that someone was trying to kill her and about how she had been hiding out for a week but she couldn?t take it anymore. I proceeded to calm her down and ask her what she wanted from me. She said that she wanted to hire me to find out who was trying to kill her and to get her into safety. I told her that I would do what she wanted and then I told her my rates; $350 down and another $100 per day plus expenses. I don?t usually look for killers so I charged her my rates for finding out if a spouse is cheating.
After we had agreed upon the terms of our arrangement I decided to take her to a motel out in the country. I grabbed my gun from my top drawer and then put on my yellow overcoat, the same overcoat my father had worn in his sleuthing days. After we got to my car I noticed something peculiar with my client. There was a small tear on her dress, like she had been in some sort of struggle. I figured she probably just ripped it on a short corner and hadn?t noticed yet, I didn?t say anything as to not embarrass the lady. When we got outside a taxi driver put her bags onto the curb and she paid him. We got to my car and I let her in, then I open my trunk and put her bags in it. As we drove to the motel my client asked me about my career. I told her about some of my recent cases. When I told her the case I solved involving the theft of a very expensive emerald from the Lady Chantel, she perked right up. She told me that she had read about the theft in the paper and it was the reason she came to me for help.
When we got to the motel my client was in despair. The motel was no Waldorf Astoria but it was fine for a week or two. There was a forest behind the hotel and the three buildings looked about twenty or thirty years old, each of them having mosquito zappers strung about. We then went to the main office to check into a room. There was a broken Pepsi machine out-front, and inside there were files and papers stocked up throughout the room. On the desk there was a TV set which was playing snow, and a fan buzzing back and forth. I rang a bell that had a note that stated, ?Don?t fvck around and ring the bell for service.? I rang the bell and a greasy old man came out from the back room. He had a small patch of white hair hanging off the back of his head and a cough that indicated he smoked regularly, I could also tell he smoked by the smell of him. Anyway I got a room for the next two weeks for $29 a night, which the lady paid from her purse. The old man processed the room while making some brutish remarks and inquiring if she liked it doggy style. I was surprised that my client didn?t even make a disgusted smirk during the whole event.
The woman left for her room while I went to my car to get her things. I noticed that one of the bags was partially unzipped. I peaked inside and saw some risqué underwear. I fantasized a little bit then zipped the bag back up and headed toward my client?s room. Her room was number fourteen, but the four was upside down. ?Well up kept,? I thought. I got inside her room and wasn?t surprised at the living conditions. She seemed visually upset and I asked her what was wrong. She told me she couldn?t stay in such a dump and I reminded her that it was only for a few weeks and that she was in peril. She pulled her self together and told me she would be all right; that she had her books and could watch the TV, if necessary. I bid her adieu and left.
Discussion Zen 5 Speculation (EPYC Turin and Strix Point/Granite Ridge - Ryzen 9000)
Discussion Intel current and future Lakes & Rapids thread
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