He was a by-God detective. That package suggested, if not quite promised a few violent crimes and murders during its chaotic lifespan.But dozens of mu...ders? Dozens? He gripped his pen tightly and took a reassuring sip of warm coffee."Next I killed Van Charles - he was an animal, so I didn't feel very guilty about it, but I don't want to leave anyone out - by running him off a Daytona Beach pier in his Mustang. He was very drunk, but I'm the one that did it. Made the brakes fail, you see. They. The intercom on Jim's secretary's desk buzzed. 'Stephanie, could you come in her please.' Jim wanted to sob, how could he have been so air headed, so stupid, he had worked so hard to be a good secretary, and now he had just blown his big chance. It'd probably be back to the secretarial pool and he'd have to work for some lecherous old coot and it wasn't fair, he was a good secretary, Jim sobbed to himself.'Now, Stephanie. I need to talk to you,' Marissa buzzed again.Jim tried to compose. More

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