“Oh, hi Gregson. Who is your friend?”

“Andrew—he’s a psychologist, and he is helping me to profile the murderer.”

Nancy and Andrew shook hands. Nancy’s grip was firm, like her body.

“My, you have such soft hands—like butter,” Nancy said.

“Well, I push paperwork most of my day…” Andrew wasn’t sure what Nancy meant. When a woman makes an observation with an underlying meaning, it’s always best to ignore her statement completely. Otherwise, she will sneak her way into your mind, and play your emotions like a harp. Even Freud couldn’t decipher women, and Andrew wasn’t going to try.

“So, what kind of suspect are we looking for?” Nancy asked.

“Someone with good eyesight, a steady hand, and overly pleasant,” Andrew suggested.

“Any leads?” Nancy asked. She was wearing a casual peach dress, and Gregson thought she was dressed to kill. How could any man subdue her? Gregson’s mind briefly drifted to Nancy in handcuffs. Just then, the Taiwanese girl walked through the door, and began talking to the tense librarian.

“I’ve been waiting for the Tao de Ching for over six months!” She demanded. I want to know who has checked it out!”

“We don’t give-out information on our patrons,” the librarian said. She had tattoos covering her arms, like ivy wrapped around the bark of a pale tree.

“So much for your pleasant profile,” Nancy suggested. “Do you think it’s her?”

“I don’t know, but I’m a bit worried. I’m the one who hasn’t returned the Tao de Ching,” Andrew said.

“He’s over here!” Nancy laughed.

“What?” The Taiwanese asked.

“Your culprit. He has the Tao.”

“Oh—Andrew—you get the Pad Thai Beef. Would you please return the book?”

The hairs on the back of Gregson’s neck stood on end. She was overly polite. “What do you have in your case?” He asked.

“I’m in the Maple Valley Orchestra—I play the flute.”

“Well… let’s just see what you have inside,” Gregson suggested.

“You can come to the concert on Tuesday, but you won’t be looking inside my case.”

“We’ll just see about that!” Nancy grabbed the case with her strong muscles, and the Taiwanese reacted with knees and elbows.

Gregson tried to break them up, but his manhood took several hits.

Andrew watched the scene without getting involved. The climax was perfect. If he only had a pen and paper, he could finish his story. But then he remembered, he did… and he pulled the pen out of his pocket, and pointed it at Nancy.

“I’m going to write you out of my story.” Nancy, the Taiwanese, and Gregson froze in mid-punch. They looked like they were playing twister, standing up.

Before Andrew could pull the trigger on his pen gun, he took a swift hit to the back of his head, and it was lights out.

“Why is it always a white guy? I think they must read too much!” One of the big black guys said.

“Well… case closed,” Gregson sighed. Now, where can I ice my balls?”

I’ll get you some ice from our restaurant,” the Taiwanese said. “Would you like the Pad Thai Beef?”

“You read my mind. Nancy, you will need to drive me—my manhood has taken a back-seat for the day.”

The End

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