I know there are many complexes in the world that do have them, but they also cost more. In my mind, I was saving money, and keeping more dollars for other bills was key to my survival. So each week, I gathered all of my clothes into a couple baskets—with wheels mind you—and made the trek down Main Street to the Laundromat. Okay, I’m being dramatic here. In actuality, I loaded up my car, drove the mile down Main, and well, you get the rest. Because I am a thinker, which means I like to spend time inside my own head pondering life, I choose to do laundry late at night. So much of my business involves people that I want to get away from everyone every now and then. The twenty-four hour Laundromat is usually quiet with no more than one or two people there. Tonight, however, when I walked in lugging what I unaffectionately call my granny basket behind me, I had a surprise waiting for me. One Sheriff Spencer Norwood stood at a washing machine frowning at it like he was tempted to shoot it.
