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Flavia was nuts. Or neurotic at the very least. She had all these True Detective Magazines laying around her trailer with stories about decapitated pubescent girls or women who seduced then chopped up men from the pick-up scene. Mostly they were blonds, these black widow types. Flavia was blond. Come to think of it I met her on the pick-up scene.

Hormones must have been acting up. I laid it oh pretty thick that night, but then again, flattery will get you anywhere. Said I was so struck by her remarkable good looks that I'd like a chance to photograph her, see how well such beauty stood up to the unforgiving eye of the camera. All that rot. Old line for new tricks. No dog though, just nuts. A real loony space cadet.

I got what I wanted and that should have been it. But she kept dropping back to my studio, unannounced, at the oddest times. Sometimes she'd just walk in, sit down and not say a word. Or she'd come around the apartment and turn on the seduction before the hello then laugh at the whole scene like it was some private joke. She gave me the creeps. I usually took her back to the trailer or dropped her off someplace downtown well before morning because my wife was on steady graveyards and got home at about 7:30 in the morning. Oh, it was one of those open relationships but not that open. Didn't last anyway. My wife took off with some guy from the morgue. She's an RN. I told her not to do it cause the guy had a deadend job but she did anyway. It's probably good to end a marriage on a bad joke though. That would ail be beside the point except that Flavia met the guy in the morgue. He was some kind of orderly and had to clean up after her autopsy.

They investigated me for the murder cause I was with her that night but I came up clean. My wife was questioned too, the jelous woman angle, but that too was just a formality. I was just heading out to a club when she dropped by so I invited her along. She got me to stop at a friend's place so she could borrow a dress. It took awhile but I finally figured out what the smell was and why Flavia and her friend kept blowing in and out of baggies. They were sniffing glue. Thai grossed me out. I don't take drugs and I lectured both of them on livers and brain cells and they just laughed the private joke laugh so I felt real square and shut up.

Flavia was pretty whacko at the club and whenever I danced with her she'd drift over, grab one of the guys leaning against the rail along the edge of the floor and leave me dancing alone. Eventually I just took off. Too nuts for this kid. I went to another club and stayed until closing. That's why the law turned down the heat. Lots of people remembered seeing me there at the estimated time of death. She was "brutally beaten" the newspapers said, then tossed into a park. According to the autopsy she wasn't raped and wouldn't have died except that she choked on her puke.

Well, what a way to go. And what a way to get your kicks on a saturday night.

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