She was smut-free, above base instincts that drove less exemplary mortals. To even think of her in terms of unsavory behavior was sacrilege. But such a reputation was difficult to maintain. Keeping everything under wraps was beyond a nuisance at times. It often became an out-and-out burden.
Which is why she looked forward every now and then to donning the black leather and stilettos, slipping into the satin garters and fishnets, oiling the whip secreted in her hope chest and visiting those seven wee miscreants who lived on the edge of the forest.
Inside its satin lining are three papers, a card, and a key.
Mr. David Plumber, As allegorical, ironic, or apropos as this may seem, your great-grand-uncle, Thaddeus Miner, passed away eleven months ago. I’ve performed an extensive search, and you are Thaddeus’s only surviving relative, trust me on this. His estate: one house in Ashcroft, Colorado. I’ve included a map of the area with directions, a key, and my business card. You need to call me with in thirty days, or I’ll consider Thaddeus’s estate closed.