Deranged Seating — Carole Fowkes

A society columnist is sitting on the biggest story of the cetury, but he can't write a word of it.
James is a Mike Hammer wannabe private eye stuck writing a newspaper society column. His imagination is the only thing keeping him sane through the endless shallow events his boss makes him cover. Until one day his luck changes.
But he'd bet a month's salary the poor chump who just got murdered isn't feeling so lucky. This wasn't just any murder, no siree. The whole thing smells hinkier than the seven-day-old sushi in the back of James' fridge. Things don't add up--not if you're from planet Earth.
And hold on to your X Files, there's a goodlooking dame in it up to her baby blues.