Gemotions

He had just finished polishing his vintage car, the chrome gleaming under the afternoon sun. He took a step back to admire his work, a sense of deep satisfaction washing over him. The engine, beautifully restored, purred contentedly. He pictured himself cruising down the coast, wind in his hair, the open road beckoning.

A man in a suit approached, his face etched with concern. "Mr. Davis, I need to speak with you about your residence." He knew something was up the moment he saw his face. He wasn't bothered.

“It's come to our attention," the man said, in a serious tone, "that your home was the site of a criminal act. A murder." His smile was wide and genuine.

"Oh, goody!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "What a story!"