Hot Tea Read Free

dried, excuse a very distasteful pun, and he wasn’t convicted.”
I stood there trying to decide between a banana and an orange.  Teagan chose an orange for me.  It, of course, would be perfect.  I started to peel it saying; “You know my theory on that one.”
She shook her head, “Yes, but you’re the only one on the planet that has that theory.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t make my theory any less valid.  Has it dawned on you that I could be right?  Maybe that same brilliance is just what is needed to solve this case.  Just because I’m the only one with a theory, Teagan Shannon, does not make that theory any less valid.  Besides, my theory makes perfect sense.”
“You think the son actually did it.”
“Yep.”
She rolled her eyes, “And that’s why the blood evidence was just a little off.”
“Yep.”
Her rendition was a little sing-songy.  She’s used it more than once to make me feel a little foolish.  It never works because I’m committed to my theory, so her lack of enthusiasm about it, does me no harm.  She couldn’t help herself, she couldn’t let it drop, she had to say it all one more time.
She was just trying for a reaction, “The father had no real concern about going to jail because he was actually innocent and if push came to shove it would come out that his crazy kid did it.  The DA couldn’t do much, since he’d already put all his eggs in one basket.  Worst case it all comes out in a last second court drama.  Great for TV ratings.  The kid goes into treatment for a few years, dad might even be a hero by the time the PR people are done spinning it, and everybody gets rich on the book and movie rights.  If the father is actually found innocent, the kid never suffers any consequences for his actions, God knows what happens to the kid’s brain at that point; the father gets even more smug, he’s pulled off the perfect crime, then he waits a few years, writes a book, and gets rich anyway.  It’s a win-win.”
“Yep.”
“Cara, only you could come up with something that twisted.”
“No, lots of people think of twisted stuff.”  I threw a napkin in her direction and continued with my very valid points, “I simply don’t act on twisted stuff.  The only difference between a good guy and a bad guy is that the bad guy allows himself to do what the good guy would do if morals weren’t an issue.”
She huffed, “So you have to be crazy to be a bad guy?  Not know the difference between right and wrong?”
“Oh hell no.  Unless you’re profoundly damaged, you know the difference between right and wrong.  Just because you know the difference doesn’t mean you choose to act on it.  It’s like everything else; it’s all on a bell curve.  Some people are at either extreme, most of us in the middle.”
“So there’s extreme good and extreme bad, and then the rest of us.”
“Pretty much.  I think God threw evil in the mix just to keep us on our toes.”
How does she seemingly scrub her face clean, and not disturb her makeup or lipstick?  She got apple juice everywhere, wiped all of it off, without much care, and still, she looks perfect.  And, she did all that while talking.  I’m really beginning to think I missed out on some essential DNA.
She continued, “So tell me oh wise ass, I mean wise one, where do you and I fall?”
Teagan doesn’t have all that many buttons to push, but I love pushing them when I can.  I said, “Depends on the circumstance.”
She started the bobblehead neck thing with one finger about to skewer me, “Don’t start with that whole situational ethics thing.  You and I both know there’s no such thing.  Either you have ethics or you do not.  Period.  It’s just like couples saying we’re pregnant.  No, we are not.  She is.  We are having a baby, but she is pregnant.  It’s the blurring of boundaries that has led our society to where we are.  It’s like the whole equality thing.  ‘Equal’ does not mean