Sorry Santa...How About a Little Christmas Cheer?

So apparently I managed to anger Santa with my last post. (You don't believe me, check the comments.) I didn't really mean the bah humbug stuff. It was a bad day and I REALLY do hate the freaking mall, especially this time of year.

But after the little guy went to sleep last night...at 10:00 (who told this kid that 10:00 is an appropriate bed time for a 2 year old!)...I had to assemble all the presents for the litany of paralegals, secretaries, managers and supervisors I'd bought stuff for.

I trudged into the office this morning, arms loaded with bags, totally psyched to dole out my gifts. I ran into my secretary first, pulled her into my office and closed the door. She actually thought she was in trouble... But I plunked the bag down on my desk and watched her eyes grow wide as she read the tag. We have a couple huge cases going on right now in the office and I was giving my staff "survival kits" to get through the cases. Deanna reached into her bag and hysterically laughed as she pulled out booze, caffeine, sweets and a scratch off lottery ticket for a little luck...

She was so happy with it that I eagerly dragged one of my paralegals in next. She laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes. Then she gave me MY gift. Well, first she hands me a package of homemade cookies saying, "These are for the boys. You are NOT allowed to eat any." Then she proceeded to hand me a beautifully wrapped package of carrot and celery sticks. "THESE are all yours." Too funny - and all day I had to explain the wrapped bag of veggies on my desk...

Anyway, I was a good little elf today and everyone loved their gifts. It put me in a particularly good mood. Well, that and receiving a copy of my first published article.

So, since I'm feeling generous, I thought I'd give out a few more presents tonight.

The first is for Mr. Condescending...

Just what you always wanted...your very own pirate ship. Now don't forget your promise to take me on the maiden voyage!

This next one goes to Ms. Salti...

How could I not pass on a little vampire love for the holidays? Assuming he can follow instructions, he'll be arriving at your door bright and early Christmas morning. But he is a man, so I'm not sure how well he can actually follow directions. ;)


Now for Otin...

I wasn't really sure what to get you... I hope this new fishing boat will do.

I was thinking about getting this for Jormengrund...



But I decided this would be more appropriate....

...for easy disposal of all obnoxious and annoying people at the office.


To show that I'm a good sport too,

Matty, this one's for you. You demanded a black one, right?


Brad, I stumbled over this on the way home. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't give you a cut?

And Andrew thought that your little one could use THIS...

Hopefully Santa is more satisfied with this post and I've gotten myself off the naughty list. Merry Christmas guys.

A little holiday bitching...

I hate shopping. I don’t mean I mildly dislike it. I mean HATE…you know, the I’d rather knife myself in the eye than do this type of hatred. And it’s not just mall shopping that I hate. I hate ALL kinds of shopping. Hell, if not for my son, I probably wouldn’t even go to the grocery store as much as I do.

Today I had to face the evil of all shopping evils – the mall, 3 days before Christmas. For those of you who have missed my shopping escapades, I have some type of misadventure just about every time I go to the mall. I’ve sworn off EVER going to the VS semi-annual sale again, after almost getting my ass kicked over the most hideous thong ever created. (lemon-lime mesh lace up the back cheekies - HORRIBLE.) I refuse to go to the mall after Halloween because I hate the crowds.

But, for my darling husband, I braved the mall today. Being the good wife that I am (or maybe I was just struck by a moment of pure insanity), I offered to buy the holiday presents for his staff. I haven’t even gotten stuff for my own secretary and paralegals, but let’s put that one aside for the moment… The mall at lunchtime is a sea of cars as far as the eye can see. I found the one, lone parking spot left in the lot. Of course no one wanted it - it was in the middle of a solid sheet of ice. I turn slowly into the spot, hoping that I don’t skid into the SUVs on either side of the car and that my breaks don’t lock up, sending me careening into the Chevy parked in front of me.

I step out of the car and immediately lose my footing, practically toppling into another car. Though I could be in better shoes for this trek, I’m immediately grateful that I opted against the 4 ½ inch heels that I almost slid my feet into this morning. Taking baby steps, I slowly make my way across the glacier I’m parked on until I safely reach the street. (I wanted to embellish the story here to say that I slipped, fell on my ass and broke the heel on my shoe – but why lie just for the sake of humor. Besides it's NOT funny when you break your heel. It's not like the heel completely snaps off like in the Mentos commercials...It hangs there, partially dangling and partially still attached by screws. But I digress...).

My paralegal loves tea, so I figured I could score a good gift for her in Teavana, but the second I entered the store, the perfume-y scents made my head ache. I immediately turned around and went to Godiva. Too many people. On to another store, which had the worst music blaring from its speakers. With my head already throbbing from the tea leaves, I was done with that place. (This is part of why hubby loves me. I shop like a guy) I decided to enter the store of my former employer for a whopping 3 days – bath and body works – in hopes of finding something fast, cheap and suitable there.

SCORE! I loaded up my arms with baskets and boxes and trudged to the front of the store, where some obnoxious woman refused to move an inch to allow me to put my stuff down on the counter as I stagger under the weight of my purchases. I smacked the dumb ass with my bags as hard as I could without being accused of assault when I was done.

But I managed to forget one of the people I needed to shop for. So I quickly dove in line at Lindt and snagged some candy, because who doesn't want to add to the size of their waistline to celebrate the holidays? And I groaned as I had to turn down the offer of free chocolate while I waited in line. Do you have ANY idea how hard it is to have to refuse all things sugar and fruit at the holidays? EVERYTHING is sugar and fruit!

I leave the store, trying not to over my purchases, realizing for the first time that I spent my entire lunch shopping and not eating. My stomach began grumbling loudly in protest. But who has time for food? My break was over. I'd shopped for hubby, but done nothing for myself. Since I managed to roll into work an hour late this morning, I couldn't turn this into a 2 hour lunch. Which meant the thrill of shopping after work with the little guy.

He did okay at first, placated with a bag of yogurt melts and happily commanding me around the store, pointing and shouting "GO THAT WAY!" at the top of his lungs. But then I made the strategic miscalculation of walking past the cupcakes (I had to - the little guy deserves to celebrate his birthday with his class, with cupcakes like everyone else - even if he does have to do it the day before his actual birthday) and he proceeded to scream bloody murder because he wanted a cupcake. Then he wanted animal crackers. And so I became "that mom" cruising around the store with a kid in full on melt down mode.

Mercifully, I got us back into the car an hour later. Of course, I could barely stand after all the walking in my boots. Andrew insisted on listening to the same song over and over again on the way home. He didn't want to get out of the car without pushing every single button in my car and stopping to eat snow every 2 inches between the car and our house.

It's a few hours later and he's finally asleep. I now have to go make about 6 trips out to the car to bring everything inside, assemble my gifts and hubby's and lug them back out to our respective cars.

BAH HUMBUG

I mean...happy holidays everyone.

Return of the Vampire

He stumbled upon her lair, looking for shelter in the most dire of circumstances. She should have killed him instantly for his intrusion. But something about the waves of desperation rolling off the man stopped her cold.

Instead, she leaned back against the bed of black silk, propping herself against the mountain of pillows. The folds of her dress opened at the movement, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her thigh. She made no effort to adjust her clothes. Instead, she looked directly into his eyes and began to speak. The rhythm of her words, the lilt of her voice was intoxicating and he quickly fell under her spell.

"The problem with immortality," she began slowly, "is its very nature. You go on forever. The ones you love grow old and die, yet you remain. It is hard to form attachments when you know they are fleeting. That you will live on long after they have passed."

"But this is a blessing you speak of. A gift." His voice was hoarse, straining under the effort of speech.

"One man's blessing is another man's curse." She retorted simply. "Am I a monster? Or merely a woman more extraordinary than most? I have lived longer than you can imagine and I have yet to figure this out." She shifted slightly, her dress slipping down over one shoulder, revealing the long lines of her neck, the fabric dipping low enough to bare the curve of her breast.

"No matter what I am, I can still be killed, of course. Oh, I could go and meet the sun, feel its rays warm my flesh before it splinters me into a million pieces. Or some silly human could try to stake me through the heart. So many have tried, only to meet their own untimely death." A cruel smile formed as she thought of the last human who tried to attack her, the stupid human had no idea what he had invited into his truck...

"Your time grows short. I can smell the death upon you. I will grant you the choice, human. Certain death or the curse of everlasting life. Choose quickly. You only have minutes left."

Without hesitation, he answered in a broken whisper, "You are...the most extraordinary... creature...I have ever met...Save me."

With superhuman speed, she was off the bed and across the room. She lifted him as if he weighed nothing and laid him gently on the couch. With a swift movement he could barely track, her fangs bit into her wrist, opening her vein and she pressed her arm to his mouth. "Drink," she commanded.

He hesitated, refusing to take her into his mouth. "Drink or die, human." His eyes widened at her cruel tone, but the message sank in. He opened his lips and let the blood flow into his mouth. She moaned as he began to suck at her wrist, lapping at her greedily.

She leaned her head back, eyes closed, as his mouth worked at her, becoming stronger and more insistent. The sensation was both pleasure and pain, building together in increasing intensity until...

"Stop!" She pushed him away from her wrist, licking the wound gently to seal it closed and begin the healing process. He had enough of her blood to change him, any more would kill them both. "This next part is going to hurt," she warned.

He was her first. More would follow. She needed each of them. Strong men, each through his own choice, would forever be bound to her by blood, do her bidding as their creator and mistress.



This was part 10 of the vampire series. Missed parts 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 or 1?

History

So I had a great post planned for this week's Theme Thursday. It would have appealed to my dear hornball readers who keep pestering me to post some porn-like steamy fiction. Sadly, you will have to wait a little longer for that post. Yes, I'm a tease. But you already knew that.

This morning, the phone rang at 6 AM. My first instinct was to be pissed off at whoever was calling so early. Frustration at being woken out of a dead sleep was quickly followed by the realization that good news is never delivered at that hour... Hubby, Andrew and I are now on our way out to Cleveland.

We're headed out there for a funeral (his grandma). While in a lot of ways it's sad, it's also one of those situations where we're glad she's not suffering anymore.

I'm happy he got to know her, because she'll always be a part of his history... I wish Andrew would have gotten to spend more time with Tibey and hope that when he's older he'll remember her and how much she loved him to pieces.

I better run before the sappy side of Jaime really takes over and before I miss my plane.

But when I return, so will the vampire series... I don't care if everyone in the world has their own vampire story. I kind of miss writing mine.

Snow Day

I'm still drowning in motions... I have 4 briefs that have to get out the door by 2:00 tomorrow. I haven't even written one of them yet and I have zero energy or motivation to do so. Since I don't have time for a real post, I leave you with this...


Why am I dressed like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man just to go outside?

Hey! What's all this white stuff?

Hmm... it tastes okay. But why'd daddy tell me not to eat the yellow snow?


And it's fun. I can mash it up and throw it at people. They don't even get mad!


NO MORE OUTSIDE!!!


This was Andrew's last big adventure out in the snow... He loved the snow - until he fell in it and it went all up his sleeves and down the back of his jacket...

When my office decides to let me have a life, I'll be back. It might be time to revive the vampire story... Hope you all had a good weekend.

Law and Disorder: The Finale

And finally, without further ado, Part 7 of Law and Disorder. If you missed any of the other parts, Otin has parts 1-6 up on his blog now.
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Tammy's next call was to the prosecutor. She got the 24-hour answering service. "Get him out of bed," Tammy growled. "He's going to want my call."

A few moments later, she was connected to the head of the prosecutor's office. "Tammy. It's 3 in the freaking morning. This better be good."

"You will release my client from jail. Now. In return, I will give you the real killer." That got his attention. She laid it out for him quickly. He needed time to line things up with the local authorities before they could move.

Tammy was buzzing with tension and couldn't get back to sleep. She gave up and drove back to Boca so she could be there when it all went down. She owed her family and her client that much.

At 9 am sharp, Tammy marched into the local police department. Moments later, she saw both her parents being led in, escorted to separate interrogation rooms. The prosecutor nodded at Tammy, who took a deep breath before springing into action.

She threw the door open to Interrogation A. "How long were you fucking Jenny? And don't even think about giving me any of that 'she initiated it' bullshit! How long were you and her having an affair?"

William put his head in his hands, but said nothing at first. After a few seconds, she began to speak. "Let me tell you a story... It's about a lonely high school girl. Her mother suffered from depression. Her dad couldn't deal so he spent most of his days too wasted to care what she was doing. She gets a job working at a local law firm and for the first time feels like she is accomplishing something. Doing something with meaning. She was all alone that summer. Her best friend had decided to spend it with her aunt in the Catskills. And then, one day in the conference room, her boss comes to her. Tells her how much he appreciates all of her hard work. They're both lonely. Depressed. Starved for attention. And they cure that need with a totally taboo relationship for... three months before the boss knocks her up."

William stared at her, jaw slack, eyes wide in disbelief. "Its okay dad. Admit it. The statute of limitations has run on the statutory rape charge."

"I had to split you two up. It was not that she was bad, it was that I could not bear seeing her every day," He said, trying to make Tammy understand his long ago decision that forever altered her life.

"It's okay, Dad, you can admit it," Tammy repeated.

Then William, the paragon of strength and virtue, crumbled. Sobbing too hard to speak, he simply nodded. For a moment, Tammy's resolve cracked too. She put her hand over her dad's and whispered, "You loved her, didn't you?"

Again, William could only nod. Tammy brushed her chair back from the table, straightened her shoulders and readied for round two.

Throwing open the door to Interrogation B, she led with "You knew." It was not a question, but a statement of fact.

"Dear girl. Do you really think there's anything I don't know about that man's life?" Her mom challenged. "I knew about the affair. And the bastard child. And the millions he funneled to that tramp."

Tammy ran back to her father. "Either you killed her or she did. What's it going to be, dad? Will you let your guilt consume you and send you to jail for her crime?"

William smiled sadly. But beneath the sorrow was nothing short of total pride. "I knew you'd figure it out, honey. That's why I sent Harold to you. You would never let an innocent man go to jail on your watch."

Tammy looked at her father coldly. "You knew all along? But you were shocked when I told you."

William reached out for her. "I knew. I had to pretend. For her. For you. For all of us."

At that moment, two detectives walked into the interrogation room and slapped handcuffs around Lara's wrists. Lara screamed over being read her rights, "This is all his fault! He let that bitch into our lives, into our bed. I forgave the bastard in the beginning. But now all these years later, he was going to leave me for her! That's why he was transferring all his money to her. He was going to leave me and try to leave me with NOTHING!"

Tammy crossed the room in three long strides. Then she drew back and slapped Lara across the face. "You stupid bitch!" Tammy spat. "You stupid crazy bitch. He was never going to leave you. For some insane reason, the man actually loved you! That money was for their daughter! When you go to jail, I want that to be the last thought that goes through your head. You murdered that poor girl for nothing."

Tammy's initial anger turned to sorrow.

"How could you , Mom? All of those holidays and vacations that we were all happy. The dinners that we cooked together. You knew all along and yet you let us go on pretending to be the perfect little family."

" I didn't know all of it", She protested. "It was not until I had found out about the money that I became bitter. All of your life, I was genuine when it came to the three of us. I knew about your dad's little secret. It was hard on me, too. I had to keep it from Jennifer's parents and smile whenever I saw that family, but I accepted that he made a mistake and I still loved him. When they visited here last year, and they showed up in a Patricia's Mercedes, and then Helen told me that Patricia didn't even have a job, that's when I knew that something was wrong. I dug through your dad's papers and found letters from Jennifer, asking for more money. When he told me that he was going north to take care of some firm business, I knew where he was going."

"So you followed him?!" Tammy asked, emotionally bankrupt at this point.

"Yes Tammy! That is what you want to hear? I did it. I confess! But remember this. I still love both of you, and nothing will ever change that."

Lara's head slumped to her chest as the two detectives led her away.

Tammy could not watch as her mother was taken away. She turned and looked back toward interrogation room A.

A few days later, Tammy stood on the steps of Patricia Greenhill's beautiful home, snow falling gently around her. She had never been nervous interviewing anyone before. But today she was not here as a lawyer. Today she was introducing herself as a big sister. And she had no idea how it would all turn out.

Law and Disorder: Part 5

Yes, our story is still going. If you've missed any of the other parts, click for Parts 1, 2, 3 and 4.


Tammy and William made their way to his study, which was basically a little den located off of his bedroom. She shut and locked every door behind her as they went through the two rooms.
"That wasn't a very nice greeting, Pumpkin," he said, trying to lighten her mood. He practiced with Tammy long enough to know when she had a bone to pick with someone.

"Dad, a few months back, you came up to take care of some firm business, yet you never came to see me? That seems a little strange, being that I am running the firm," Tammy began grilling him.

"Your Mom told you this?" He asked back.

"Yea, I know that it is Thanksgiving, but this is also a business trip for me. I have a bunch of questions that I need answers to, and it all seems to lead to you."

"You are acting crazy, Honey. What's going on?"

"Do you know who B. Greenhill is and why she has been getting well financed by the firm?" She asked.

He did not respond right away, he knew that he could not dodge her. She had the tenacity of a bulldog.

"B. Greenhill is Jennifer Dobson," He replied, staring down at the floor. "The money that she has been paid over the years is because of the guilt that I carry.""Guilt?? Over splitting us up?" she responded, already sensing the true answer, but wanting to hear her dad say it.

He knew that it was all going to come out anyway and figured that she might as well hear it from him.

"No, not over splitting you up," He said reluctantly, "Over the fact that I was the one who got her pregnant! Her daughter, Patricia is your half sister."

Shocked as she was, anger took over. "You Lousy Bastard!" she said in a hostile voice. "You ruined my friendship, you hid a sister from me, you paid this girl enough money to live like a queen, you cheated on Mom! With a high school girl! My Fucking Dad, holier than thou lawyer, couldn't keep it in his pants! You make me sick!"

"Now you look, Jennifer was 17, but she was no innocent school girl. She asked me for a ride home. I am not going to go into details, but I will tell you that I did not initiate any contact with her. She was the aggressor."

"Great excuse, Dad." Tammy scoffed. "She asked for it. She wanted it. You are disgusting! So is this why you killed her?

"Killed her???" William seemed genuinely surprised. "Jennifer is dead??"

"Yep, knife in the chest. Mom's missing kitchen knife, if I had my guess." William collapsed in his chair, muttering to himself for a minute before he spoke again.

"Why would I kill Jenny?" He asked Tammy, in a much slower and softer voice.

Tammy pulled an envelope out of her pocket. "I found this in Jennifer's room. No one else has seen it but me. I thought that it looked like your handwriting, but was not 100% sure until a few minutes ago."

She began to read the note:

Jennifer, I cannot give anymore than I am giving. If it comes down to you blowing the whistle, then I might have to take some drastic action. You have been well compensated for your part in our little secret. I have upheld my end of the deal. You cannot keep changing the rules as you go, or someone is going to get hurt.

There was no signature.

"I did write that," he confessed. "When Jennifer moved out of her parent's home, she came to me for money. She said that if I did not give her five hundred every month, that she would tell our story. Over the years, as the firm grew so did her desire for money. I should have come clean and put a stop to it, but she mailed me statements showing that the money was going into a secure account that only Patricia would be able to draw from when she got older. I think that I let it go because I felt so guilty and wanted to support my child, even after Jennifer married that Greenhill guy. When I turned seventy, I sent her a note telling her that I could no longer do it. She threatened to tell everyone that I was the father. It would have ignited a shitstorm!"

"You mean like what we have now?" Tammy broke in.

"This will blow up only if you allow it to," William responded calmly. "I wasn't physically threatening her. I meant someone would be hurt emotionally. You, your mom, Jen, Patricia, Helen, Ted, everyone. I am sorry that she is dead, but all of that crap could end right here in this room."

He went to hug Tammy and she withdrew from him. "Don't touch me, don't call me, you are dead to me! Harold Greenhill is sitting in jail, waiting for me to come up with something to set him free. I am keeping this note, and I am leaving right now. Don't even think about throwing your knife set away. It would make you look even more guilty."

"You are defending Greenhill? How did he just happen to find you? Ask yourself that one!"
Tammy stormed out of the room. She crossed the hall and grabbed her small suitcase, which she had never unpacked. She made her way out to the kitchen where her mother was still laboring away.

"Tammy, dear," her mother said, sounding concerned, noticing her flustered appearance, "Have you been crying? What's Daddy done this time? I wish that you two would not fight."

"Mom, I can't stay here. I have some...um...business that is really important. I may have to do something that is going to be hard on all of us. Promise me that you won't hate me."

"Hate you!?! Never sweetie! You are just like your Dad, business first. You do what you need to do, Baby. I wish that you could stay."

They hugged and then Tammy grabbed her bag and disappeared out the door. William came into the kitchen and sat down at the table. "What was all of that about? Tammy was pretty upset with you?" Lara asked him.

"It was nothing. We just had a little spat about business," he replied.

Lara smiled. She knew more about his business that he could ever imagine.

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Stay tuned. Otin's posting part 6 tomorrow and I'll have the finale here.

Law and Disorder: Part 3

If you're new to this party, this story is a collaboration between Otin and me. If you want this to make any sense, click here for Part 1 and here for Part 2 of this story before reading Part 3.

So Jenny Dobson and Barbara Greenhill were the same person. Tammy wondered when that happened, knowing there was something more there. Jennifer's middle name had been Barbara and her mother had sometimes called her "Barbie." Jennifer could have simply decided to go by Barbara when she married Harold Greenhill.

But the name continued to tug at the edge of Tammy's consciousness. She quickly concluded the rest of the initial interview, even more convinced at her client's innocence. A grand jury had been convened and Harold wanted to testify. They set another meeting to prepare his testimony.

"Barbara Greenhill"? She knew that name, but from where?

When she returned to her office, the payroll checks were on her desk. She hated this part of her job and didn't understand why they couldn't just automate this whole thing. Why should she have to sign each paycheck herself? Tammy quickly signed the stack of checks without looking at them and threw them into her outbox for delivery to the HR department.

While on a particularly boring phone call, Tammy tuned out her adversary's rambling rendition of his client's settlement position and pulled out the payroll folder again. She looked at the checks she had signed for the first time in ages. There was a check in the middle for $10,000 made payable to "B. Greenhill." She knew that she had seen that name before!

There had to be some mistake, Tammy thought. Even her dad didn't pull down 10 grand a pay cycle! She yelled for her assistant to pull the payroll records for B. Greenhill. The information was sketchy at best. There was no first name, only the initial "B." Human Resources only had an address, no description of the job she was hired to perform, no time records. Only an amount to be paid each pay cycle and the authorization code indicated that Tammy's father hired the mysterious B. Upon further investigation, it was revealed that the payments to Barbara Greenhill had started almost thirty years earlier, at approximately the same time that Jennifer Dobson and Harold Greenhill had been wed. It had not always been $10,000, the amount had increased over the years. All of this coincidence was beginning to give her a headache. She had probably signed the Greenhill check a thousand times in her life.

Tammy had expensive investigators at her disposal, but she believed that each of her cases warranted her personal attention as well. If she was going to sell her client's story, she had to see the crime scene with her own eyes, walk the victim's last steps, feel the emotion of those last painful moments.

Tammy moved through the house slowly and methodically, her studied eye carefully searching the Greenhill home. She saved the scene of the crime for last, beginning in the bedroom. Experience taught her that you can learn a lot about someone from studying their most personal space. Tammy swept through the bedroom, finding relatively little of note. She found one of Barbara's old high school yearbooks. Tammy flipped through the pages, finding her inscription to Jenny, who she had called the sister she never had. Tammy reached for a tissue to wipe away the tears that sprung from her eyes, knocking a picture frame behind the large wooden desk.

She got to her knees to reach for the frame. The back had fallen loose and when Tammy turned the frame over to fit the pieces back together, an envelope was wedged behind the photograph. Tammy's fingers grazed the creamy fabric of the envelope and took in the elegant script. She gasped, instantly knowing the source of the writing without looking at the return address.

Shaken, Tammy hastened through the rest of her search, happy that her investigator was also there. Tammy did take careful note of the collection of kitchen knives. All of the larger knives were in a matched set. It was a cheap bargain store set, with light natural wood handles. They were nothing of particular note, except for the fact that one was missing. From the space in the knife block, it was a long blade, at least 6 inches - the exact length of the murder weapon. No other knives had been found in any of the drawers.

Later, back at her desk, Tammy mulled over some of the evidence and facts of the case. Barbara Greenhill, formerly Jennifer Dobson, had been receiving large sums of money for thirty years from the very law firm which Tammy now ran. Harold and Barbara lived very modestly. They drove cheap cars. Harold worked full time as a contractor and they had few luxury items. The Greenhill daughter, thirty-three year old Patricia, lived an upper middle class life style, even though she had never had a steady job. Tammy had not met Patricia yet, but Rose had interviewed her and she needed to be investigated further.

The murder weapon was also a bit puzzling to her. It was a very expensive kitchen knife, with a fancy gold flower pattern on the handle. It did not match any other kitchenware in the house. It was possible that they just had one stray knife but the house was so well organized, that wasn't likely. Tammy suspected that the knife was brought into the home. This would be a plus for Harold's case.

He had been fixing an outdoor faucet that evening. Where would he have gotten a fancy knife from, and why? The missing knife in the Greenhill set had been found in the dishwasher, so the murder weapon obviously did not come from their knife rack. The worst thing was that Tammy felt like she had seen that pattern before but could not remember where.

And then there was Harold. What motive would he have for killing his wife? Harold had been under the impression that Patricia was living off of a trust fund which had been given to her by her rich grandfather on her father's side. He never knew Patricia's real father. When Harold and Barbara had gotten married, she had told him that the man was deceased. He legally adopted Patricia when she was three. Money could not be the motive, because if there was a trust fund, then he would not be able to get at any of it anyway. From all accounts, the people who knew both of them said that they had seemed rather happy and rarely fought. But no matter how hard they searched, they could not find any witnesses who saw Harold, or any one else, coming or going from the house. Any other time, someone would have been nosy but not that night.

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Otin will be posting part 4 Tuesday night and you'll find part 5 over here. Wednesday will bring Part 6 over at Otin's and the finale here... Yeah, we wrote a blog story in 7 parts.

Haven't I told you before that lawyers may write briefs, but we never do anything brief?

Law and Disorder: Part 2

So Otin finally guilted me into finishing this story. I was busy doing the real life law and order thing... The story was Otin's idea but I kinda helped with all the lawyer parts.

Anyway, this is Part 2 of the story that began on Otin's blog. If you haven't already read Part 1, click here and then come back.


The black phone on the corner of her desk began to ring. Tammy raised her eyebrows at the sound. This was her "special line." The number was top secret, known only to her family and her high end former clients. She let the machine answer, waiting to hear if they knew the right thing to say.

"Uh...I'm in trouble here. Norma Jean referred me."

Tammy smiled. That was the right thing to say. She answered quickly and set up a meet the following morning.

Harold Greenhill was a wreck as he was led down the corridor by a striking brunette. If he wasn't so distracted, he would have enjoyed watching the seductive sway of her hips and the way the black knit dress hugged her curves. Instead, the clacking of her stilettos pounded through his head with every step.

The woman - Harold forget her name the second she gave it - held open the door to a conference room. Harold slid into the chair closest to the door and declined the offer of coffee. He was surprised to see a striking Brunette sit across from him and slide a legal pad from the center of the room. She began asking questions. At first it was the basics - name, address, children, marital status. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arched when he responded "widower" with a cracked voice. Then the questions became more focused on his current legal situation. Harold returned home from his job that night to find his front door ajar. He rushed inside, finding his wife, Barbara, laying in a pool of her own blood on the kitchen floor. There were multiple wounds all over her body and the knife was still sticking out of her chest.

Harold's first instinct was the wrong one - he removed the knife and tried to revive Barbara. He called 911, continued his attempts to stop the bleeding, to breath life back into his wife's lungs. By the time the authorities arrived, Harold was covered in blood with his prints on the murder weapon. When he was asked if anyone could corroborate his story, Harold snapped. "Listen. I'm sure you're very good at your job. But I came here to meet with Tammy Jenkins, not her secretary! Now go on back and bring out my attorney!"

The brunette rolled her eyes as she stood. "The name is Rose, Mr. Greenhill. Since I'll be second chair at the trial, I expect you to remember who I am next time and speak to me about your case." She turned on her heel and let the door slam on her way out.

Rose slipped into the room next door, where Tammy had been watching through a two-way mirror. Tammy smirked at their exchange, liking Harold instantly, but more importantly, she believed every word of his story. Something troubled her though. The name - Barbara Greenhill was oddly familiar. Grabbing the file from Rose, she flipped through it briefly. Barbara's photograph was in the file. It was a grainy autopsy photo, but Tammy would recognize that face anywhere. Barbara Greenhill looked exactly like her best friend from high school, Jennifer Dobson. "Rose!" Tammy called. "What was the wife's maiden name?" Rose hesitated for an instant before confirming Tammy's suspicions.


Check back here Monday night for Part 3.

Seriously?

Let's start by saying that the height of laziness is ordering pizza online. But since I'm tired and it's snowing and my bastard neighbor parked in my parking spot forcing me to park half way down the street, I'm not venturing out for food. I don't care how lazy that makes me.

And I like tracking the progress of my order as it goes along. But what does concern me is Dominos' new quality assurance step. I don't want to know how they're double checking my pizza for extra deliciousness... But I certainly hope it doesn't involve anyone licking my damn pie before it goes out the door! Hmmm... probably better not to think about these things.

Anyway, grab a slice and crack open a beer or some wine. I'm going to vent a little about the train wreck that is MTV's "Jersey Shore." How many of you watched this mess? It's two hours of my life that I'll never get back.

The show was horrible and I just couldn't look away. (If you don't know the basic premise, 4 guys and 4 girls living and working together at the Jersey Shore.) The show's first problem is with the fact that they're basing this show in SEASIDE. Just about everyone here has been to Sleeze-side after their prom and hasn't been back since. Unless you have a hankering to get your ass kicked. Then just roll up into any bar in Seaside sporting a shirt with sleeves. It's an open invitation for a beat down.

But since this show wasn't meant to be real reality tv, I suppose we're supposed to let that slide. I mean, if you're watching this show, it's to see which of these morons makes the biggest ass out of themselves trying to get a piece of ass. And, I suppose to make fun of these morons playing out the worst stereotypes of New Jersey.


Gee... Don't they all look like total catches?

We've got the self-proclaimed biggest Guido in Rhode Island. I wonder exactly how many other Guidos there are in RI that he had to beat out in order to earn this distinction. He's a DJ with an overinflated sense of importance and overestimation of his ability to get into girls' pants... And you should see the amount of hair gel this guy packed in his bags. Literally 50 fucking tubes. Does he not think there are convenience stores in Jersey where he could pick up some more shellac for his hair?

Then there's the loud mouthed midget with a huge ass, enormous fake boobs and sky high bangs. Didn't she get the memo? Even in Jersey, that hair went out in the 80s! She dubbed herself "Snookie." What the hell's a snookie? I like that all the guys started calling her Snickers. And that the random guy she brought home from the bar for a little late night hook up ended up puking all over the place.

Further adding to the cast of idiots is a guy who calls himself "The Situation." Okay...if you can get past the attitude, that he spends far too much time in a tanning bed and the fact that he wears enough hair gel to cause a bigger oil slick than the Exxon Valdez, his abs are fucking amazing. But one needs to have a bit more going on than a rock hard bod. I mean, the second he opens his mouth, it's all over.

Anyway, I could go on. But why bother? The chicks are all whores. And dumb asses. One practically gets naked with her roommate and then runs out of the room because she "doesn't want to cheat on her boyfriend." I don't know YOUR definition of cheating... But if hubby stuck his tongue down some chick's throat, they were rolling around in the sack together and she saw his cock, he's cheating. I wouldn't care if they actually screwed or not...

And the guys are all man-whores. Disgusting, greasy, over tanned, stupid fucking man-whores. They should spend a few less hours in the gym and read a freaking book. Maybe that's too much of a jump. They could start with a newspaper or a magazine or something. Hell, maybe I give them too much credit for being able to read.

I mean, one guy treated having pink eye like he had come down with a severe, life threatening affliction. The rest of them couldn't even pronounce "Purell" if their lives depended on it.

Yeah, you could say I wasn't a fan.

Friends

It took months to get here.

Cultivating his friendship was easy. Chris was the trusting sort, outgoing by nature and had a killer smile. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, the kind of guy you felt you could say anything to...and that made him dangerous.

But the danger was sexy as hell and it was time to give things a firm shove away from being just friends. Tori slithered into her black dress and slipped her feet into some towering heels. She took extra care with her makeup and straightened her normally curly locks. Surveying her reflection, she smoothed her hair behind her ear, grabbed her clutch and hurried out the door.

Chris was standing by the bar when she arrived 20 minutes late. He had a Cosmo waiting for her and was working on his second bottle of Bud. She accepted the glass gratefully, practically inhaling its contents. The biter aftertaste left on her lips was unexpected though not unfamiliar either.

Tori ordered them another round before proclaiming it time to dance. The music tonight called for sultry salsa and the floor was already full of couples bumbling their way through the dance. When he asked if she could salsa, Tori rolled her eyes before saying she could follow his lead. She let her voice slur and slumped against his chest as he led them onto the dance floor.

The evening flew by in a blur of twirling, swaying hips and heated embraces. Tori pressed her lips against his and invited him back to her place. He quickly accepted.

Her mind was fuzzy with the combination of alcohol, lust and whatever it was Chris slipped into her drink. She couldn't remember the cab ride back to the condo or how they made it up the stairs to her unit. The images flashed through her head, almost as if it were happening to someone else.

Hands groping. Tongues dancing. Clothing quickly removed. Sucking. Biting. Teasing. All leading up to that exquisite moment of release.

She fell back against the pillows, smiling with satisfaction. Chris kissed her rolled out of bed, heading to the kitchen to bring them drinks. Tori watched until she could no longer see his remarkable naked body.

Then she slid her hand under the pillow, feeling the comforting brush of the cold steel against her fingertips. Releasing the safety, the sadness crushed down on her.

There were no friends in this business. Only assets and enemies. And the line between the two was becoming far too thin, too blurred for poor Chris.


Check out the other Theme Thursday friend stories.