I Started Doodling A Murder Mystery Instead of Blogging

The Mystery of the Killer Grandma

It was one minute past noon on a sultry summer day and I was seriously contemplating a short siesta on my black leather couch. Lunchtime siestas were customary in other countries. I felt like I should do my part to promote the custom here.

I looked out my office window to make sure nobody was coming to see me, but a woman down on the sidewalk was peering up at the list of tenants posted in my building’s directory. I got the feeling my siesta wasn’t going to happen. The woman was tall with long dark hair tied back in a ponytail and looked to be pretty shapely. Even though I might have to give up my nap I had a weakness for women who wore ponytails.

In a few moments I heard high heels clacking in the hallway then I saw the woman’s shadow through the frosted glass pane on my door. She appeared to hesitate a minute before gathering up her courage to enter my little sanctum, but suddenly, there she was. Like the Girl from Ipanema, she was tall and tan and oh so lovely. I guessed her age to be late thirties. She was wearing a business-like navy blue skirt that hung just above the knees of some very shapely legs. Her blouse was white and short-sleeved, showcasing long soft arms. She wore a simple strand of pearls around a totally snuggable neck and red polish on her nails. Red was my favorite color. She carried a large briefcase-type purse.

“Are you Tony Tonoli,” she asked?

“I am unless some other bozo sneaked in here while I wasn’t paying attention.”

She cracked a barely discernible smile and didn’t laugh.

“I’m Pamela Rose” she said, advancing towards me where I had perched nonchalantly on the corner of my desk.

She handed me a business card.

“Sure enough, it says here you’re Pamela Rose, attorney at law,” I said. “Are you new in town Ms. Rose. I thought I knew all the attorneys in Bellingham.”

“I’m fairly new. I’ve been working with Carlton, Sievers and Johanssen for the past couple of years but I recently opened my own office in the Towers Building just down the street.”

“Lot of attorneys have offices in the Towers,” I remarked.

“They offer good spaces at affordable rates.” She said.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit,” I asked?

“I’d like you to investigate a murder for me.”

“A murder? Really?” I haven’t heard or read about any murders in Bellingham for awhile.”

‘This one occurred about two years ago. My client, a woman, is accused of murdering her husband.”

“Nothing unusual about that.”

“She’s not guilty.”

“They all say that. I suppose you believe her?”

“I do. She’s my grandmother.”

Maybe I'll finish this someday, but other projects first.