Author's Note/Disclaimer: The only character I own is Ophelia Bennett. The plot is entirely mine. I dreamed it. No, I couldn't remember the dialogue or exactly what happened, so I'm filling in the blanks with my own creativity. I thought it was an interesting dream, so I'm making it a fanfiction, despite that it doesn't actually have anything to do with wrestling. (However, I must add that CM Punk and Wade Barrett did play these roles in my dream.)

I returned to my office shortly after lunch. I didn't know why I bothered to go back, business had been slow lately. I walked through the door and seen my receptionist, Lillian, sitting at her desk. "Any calls while I was out?" I asked.

She shook her head slightly. "No, but you do have a client waiting in your office."

I raised my eyebrows as I shrugged out of my trench coat and hung it on the stand along with my hat before entering the office. The girl was sitting in one of the two chairs in front of my desk. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled into the style that was popular these days. At the click of the door shutting, she turned in her seat to see me. Her large, light green eyes were reddened from tears she'd been crying. "Detective Brooks?" she asked.

I nodded, and she stood. "I'm Ophelia Bennett. I've been told you're the best private investigator in Chicago."

"I see my reputation precedes me. Please, sit back down, what can I do for you?"

I sat down at my desk as she smoothed her burgundy pencil skirt and took her seat once more. She blinked a few times, trying to gather herself before she told me her story. "My husband, Stuart Bennett, was murdered," she finally said.

"Shouldn't the police be investigating this then?" I asked.

She nodded, then shook her head. "They are, but they think I did it. I don't have much faith in them. I need you to find who really done it, and prove my innocence."

"Did you do it?" I asked.

For a minute she looked outraged. She blinked a couple of times before saying, "Of course not! My husband was an arrogant brute, but I loved him." She paused long enough to dab at her eyes with the handkerchief she had been holding. "I can't even kill a spider, and I'm terrified of those things, of course I wouldn't kill my husband."

"You say he was a brute, was he ever violent with you?"

She shook her head, "No. I mean, of course we had arguments, every couple has arguments, but Stu loved me," a faint smile appeared on her lips, but disappeared as quickly as it came. "It was others he was rough with. He had a temper, but he loved me." She nodded her head as if to confirm what she was saying. "Stu would never have hurt me."

She seemed distant for a moment or two, clearly thinking about before the tragedy that had fallen on her. "Why don't you tell me what happened."

She gave a slight nod. "Well, I went away for the weekend. To Lockport. My sister got married."

"And Stuart didn't come with you?"

"No, he had a lot of business to take care of." She started to cry again, but quickly composed herself. Either the woman was a brilliant actress, or she was truly innocent. "I had begged him to come with me, I've never liked travelling alone, but he couldn't. When I returned home, I found him lying in the floor, dead. Like any normal person would do, I called the police. I told them everything I just told you."

"But they think you're guilty?"

She nodded, "They interviewed the people Stu was supposed to be meeting with, but they claim he never came to their meetings."

"What kind of work did your husband do?"

"He was a lawyer."

I thought for a moment before asking, "Did your husband have any enemies? Anyone that might have wanted to hurt him?"

"I told you he was an arrogant brute. I don't think anyone that ever met him liked him."

"Who was your husband supposed to meet with?"

She gave me a list of names before saying, "He brought a lot of his work home. He turned the parlor into an office. If you think it will help, you could come by and look around, see if you can find any clues."

I nodded, "I'll check out the people on the list and then come by tonight or tomorrow."

"Thank you so much detective. I really appreciate your help." She rose from her seat and started towards the door. Quickly, she turned around, "I don't have much money at the moment, our account was frozen, but once you prove my innocence, I'd be happy to pay you whatever you think is necessary for your services."

"Thank you Mrs. Bennett."

Once she had left the office, I called to Lillian to get me addresses for the list of names I had received. Once I had my list, I started making trips to the people's houses. First up, was Heath Miller, a former friend of the victim.