The blonde soccer mom gave Gregson a hand up; it was as strong as a vice.

“What do you do for a living?”

Oh no, Gregson thought. She’s playing with her hair, that’s a sign of attraction.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“A real one?” She looked at him hungrily.

“Do you ever investigate divorced women?”

“Frequently.” Normally, Gregson would have seen the exit, but there was no escape.

“Are you hurt bad?” She started feeling his back and chest. Gregson was powerless to stop her.

“We’ll take over from here, mam.” A young paramedic gave Gregson an understanding look.

“The husband is upstairs with an ice pick in his chest,” Gregson said.

“How did that happen?” The paramedic asked.

“Dangerous love. Did I break anything doc?”

“Wiggle your toes.”

Gregson did.

“I think your back’s okay; you just got the wind knocked out of you.”

Gregson got up and glanced at the cheating husband.

“She missed your heart by two inches. Are you sure you don’t want to press any charges?”

“Yes, of course not. I’m in love.”

“I’ve had enough of this madness. I have a tee time to catch. We’ll sort this out in 4 hours.”

Gregson sped off in his t-bird, following the scent of the Lotus flower.

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