It was two and one quarter hours into Hawaiian Shirt Day when it became clear that Margaret needed to die.
“Oh, it was definitely love at first sight, he just hadn’t seen me yet.”
I took an enthusiastic swig of water from the Styrofoam cup that had been placed in front of me, and winced as a cluster of ice cubes clobbered my nose. I carefully returned the cup to the desk and patted at my face with my sleeve, playing it off as if the whole maneuver had gone according to plan. Regardless of my wet shirt, I had certainly built the suspense to an excruciating level. “Anyway, I already told the cops all about James.”