“It’s kinky and it’s unprofessional. You work for my parents.” “Yes – yes – I work for your parents. Not for you. It’s okay.” “I...don’t know what’s worse, your logic or your masturbation habits.” She puffed up with indignation. “I’m getting my PhD in logic,” she said defensively. It was true, she was. In only a year. And that wasn’t even the strangest thing about her. I looked at her short black hair, the kind of hair you associate with reasonable people. You associate logic with reasonable. Although he hadn't seen it, he heard that it had been pretty gruesome. He swung open the door and said, "Here's his apartment." Thanks," Detective Stafford said. He stepped inside the small efficiency apartment and looked around. There was a twin bed pushed up against a wall with a small table next to it. The bed had a simple blanket spread over it and a single pillow. The table had a lamp and an alarm clock.The manager said, "He didn't have much."Detective Stafford went over to the kitchen. More

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