Red Room Where the Writers Are

For anyone following some of the little tidbits on my nano wrimo posts.....this story is flowing together better than anything I've ever written. Totally unexpected, but I'm loving it!   

         One of the correctional officers in the office overheard Mr. Baker’s interest and piped up, “Be careful mister. I’ve seen that girl fight. If you go at her bare handed she’ll tare you apart.” The officer was obviously impressed by an ability the detective would never guess she possessed. 

           “What fight?” Richard decided to pursue this little tidbit of information somewhat further. 

           “Come with me. I’ll show you the tape. We’ve all watched in over and over. Hell, they aren’t that good in the movies.”

            Richard sported a frown of doubt, trying to picture the frail wife of Michael Morgan, as being anything but a sexy blonde in a short business skirt, let alone a martial artist. 

           “Sir, get ready because what you’re going to see on this video is like watching a quick flick of Bruce Lee, only I think she may be faster.”

            “Yeah right,” Richard smirked.

            The expression left his face as he saw her outside block and slight movement of her head slamming Paula’s face into the table and letting her drop to the floor in less than half a second. He hadn’t even seen any of his instructors back at the academy move that fast.

            “Where in the hell would she learn that? She damn sure didn’t learn it from her husband. He wasn’t that smooth. Run that tape again,” Richard demanded.

            “See what I mean?” The officer in uniform was smiling at the blank expression on detective Baker’s face. “This girl will rip your arm off and smack you in the face with the bloody end and at the same time finish eating her ice-cream cone. Watch yourself mister. And, from one law enforcement officer to another, you may want to run a deeper background check on Mrs. Josephine Morgan.”

            “Well,” he began sarcastically, “I’ll take your opinion under advisement. Thanks for your help officer.”

            “You’re welcome. Although I think, perhaps, I’m talking to a dead man.”