Sand Pile Discovery

John's mother had the Thursday morning newspaper spread out on her kitchen table. Tammy and John ate their breakfast as they read about crime, culture, and gardening all summed up in nice little pieces for easy digestion.

"I wonder why there's no mention of how you were shot at in your office," Tammy remarked.

John looked over to his mother and shook his head.

"It'd be good for our business if people knew. That's all I'm saying."

"I don't know why someone would do that, John," his mother said. She had her coffee mug in hand, blowing lightly across the top to cool the hot drink.

The private eye said, "I guess they were trying to make a point."

"I've been thinking," Tammy said.

John looked at his mother again and muttered, "Here we go."

"No, listen. I was thinking that the very first time I met you was down at your office."

"Right."

"You need to clean that place up a little. No wonder you don't have any clients," his mother remarked as if she were scolding a child.

"She's right. Don't worry Mrs. Farris, I'm going to be down there now. It'll get clean. Anyway, you were first shot at then. Remember when you stepped out the back door?"

"It's etched in my mind forever."