The Brotherly Love Band, a short story by Sarnia de la Maré
It was ten past gin o’clock on a Thursday and I was two bills behind rent when trouble swanned into my office in designer heels and a moral compass that pointed directly to the gutter.She had diamonds on her ears, guilt in her eyes, and the kind of pout that suggested she kissed too much or too often, or probably both.“You’re Ginny Greaves,” she said, like she wasn’t impressed but was willing to pretend if I solved the case.