A Dentist, A Murder, and a Devilishly Handsome P.I.
It was a dark and stormy night, and I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t troubled. You see, some gal was staring me down from the end of my desk, and I knew one thing: She meant business. “I’ve gotta tell you, Shuck, I’m not happy about this racket Sally Shoemaker’s got going on right at the end of my block. Her dental office is eating up my customers — and fast. I never hear from them again after she’s gotten her dirty claws into them…” Her green eyes sparkled like something green you might see on the side of the highway. Her hair was brown, like a brown dog. Overall, her look was plain, but the ruby-red bite marks on her hands — now those really stood out. Dr. Polly Pumpernickel had been a client of mine for a little over a year, and she was always riding my case. Every Thursday night after she closed up her dental practice, she’d come to see me, and I was never too pleased to see her. She was a disagreeable woman, and with good reason. Her patients — and patience — were being snatched right out from underneath her. “I’ve got some bad news, I’m afraid …” I started, and I could see her stiffen like a cat when a big bulldog walks down the alley — a bulldog named Dr. Sally Shoemaker. “What’s that, then?” She asked, and I sighed, adjusting my gray fedora and matching trench coat before pulling the photos out of my desk and laying them on the table. Dr. Pumpernickel squinted at them suspiciously. In the photos, you could see a tall woman in a red feather boa with thick sunglasses and bright blonde hair walking into Dr. Shoemaker’s office. “Who’s that? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen that gal before in my life,” she said, but she was mistaken. I almost didn’t have the heart to tell her. “Look a little closer, ma’am,” I said, pushing the photo closer to her on the desk. She pulled a pair of spectacles out of her pocket and brought the image closer to her face. After a moment, she gasped. “Why, that’s Leslie Lawson! My own assistant, a traitor!” Her face turned red, like a red balloon, and I braced myself for impact. “The
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