She walked into my office like she owned the place, sweeping in with a presence that filled the room the way she filled out a dress. Mrs. Tabitha Barnes was beautiful; blond hair fell down her shoulders and back like spun gold, and her skin was so pale and smooth it looked like fine china. The dress in question was red, tailored, and fit her like a second skin and she layered it with a fur-lined coat that did little to hide the body underneath. Fierce green eyes studied me as she took the seat across the desk from me. She’d called before to introduce herself and the job she was offering, but I wasn’t ready for her, not in the slightest.
I could tell you about the job she hired me for. Her husband, Professor James Barnes, had gone missing. A scientist working at Miskatonic University, he was an astronomer; three days before her call he’d vanished, never returning home from work. She wanted me to find him because she was worried he might be having an affair.
I could tell you about how from the moment the job started it went bad. The gorilla that kicked in my door had to turn sideways to enter, a mountain of a man wrapped in a gray trench coat, black gloves covered hands as big as Christmas hams. A black fedora was pulled low over his eyes so I could only see his broad, broken nose and his sneer as he glanced her way. The sound of my pistol firing as he reached for her was like a thunderclap, the bullet spinning him to the floor. I grabbed her hand and fled.
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