The room was your typical beige interior complete with table, chairs, eight women and eight handcuffs. Wait a minute? Handcuffs? “I can’t believe this happened,” Judi fumed, pacing the length of the room. “I have meetings! I need to get out of here right now!” “And I have a luncheon appointment,” Kendra muttered, slinking down in her chair as she looked at her watch.. “I’m sure they’ll realize this was all a mistake and let us go,” Michele said, the voice of reason among chaos. “What will Deb say?” Danielle wailed, trying to cover her face with her hands, but her handcuffs kept her suitably restrained. “Ladies, ladies, ladies.” Horace ambled into the room, carrying a gargoyle sized Dunhill briefcase. “Horace, what are you doing here?” Marie asked. “I called Linda for help. Did she send you?” The gargoyle inspected his claws. “Um, well, it seems Linda was out and I just happened to hear your message on her voice mail. And um, it somehow got erased after I heard it. Hey!" He ducked ...
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