[ WP ] You 're the leader of an FBI investigation of a crime organization , you finally get a tip on who the leader of the organization is only to find out , it 's your own mother..

`` I'm telling you Todd my mother is not a mobster, she's 74 for god sakes! It's impossible!'' I bark into the phone, beads of persperation forming on my forehead. My right foot pressing down the accelerator on the sleek black sedan. 
 
 `` No Clara she's not a mobster she's a mob boss, they are two very different things.'' Todd's mousey voice squeaked out of the receiver. 
 
 `` Oh and what do they call themselves, the Bitter Old Lady Brigade?!'' I questioned mockingly. Foot pressing harder, the needle quickly climbing. 
 
 Five minutes, I will be at my mother's in five minutes, then I can find out for myself. 
 
 `` No actually they call themselves the Mad Knitter Society. Their operation is quite witty. They knit the drugs into sweaters, and blankets, and such. Then they send them around the globe, packaging them like one would a present for a grandchild. It's quite clever.'' He said in admiration, forgetting I was on the other line. 
 
 `` Alright Todd I'm almost there, I'll talk to my mother and we'll get this whole misunderstanding sorted away. `` Pulling the phone away in the middle of away, immediately tapping the red receiver icon. 
 
 I whipped in along the curb, outside the old red colonial I grew up calling home. The neighborhood was mostly comprised of elderly citizens now, leading it to be at a constant state of eerie quiet. 
 
 I left the car, wind nipping at my ankles, a stray cat rolling around in the Browning leaves of my mother's unkept yard. I took a deep breath as I made my way up the deteriorating stone steps. Knuckles striking the red door, chips of red fluttering to the ground with every strike. 
 
 `` Coming!'' I hear the familiar cold voice pierce my ears in it's icy melody. 
 
 The door creaked open, security chain halting the movement abruptly. Her deep ocean eyes peaked at me through the crack, her signature peacock blue eye shadow billowing up to her penciled eyebrows. A smile grew across her face, wrinkles forming at the corners of her mouth. Teeth glimmering in an unoticable off-white. 
 
 `` Hi dear, this is unexpected.'' She beamed. 
 
 `` Ma, some people I work with are looking for you. They say you got wrapped up in some bad business. Please tell me this is n't true ma, that it's a big misunderstanding.'' I pleaded. 
 
 `` It is n't true Clara.'' Her smile collapsing more with every word. 
 
 `` Then why does the FBI think your a drug Kingpin?'' I bit my lip, a nervous tick. 
 
 `` Heeeellllppp.'' I hear in a loud but weak croak from deep inside the house. 
 
 `` Ma! What was that?!'' I shouted, my voice betraying me with a sharp crack. 
 
 `` Always one for the dramatic Clara, that was just the neighbor. He needed a knitting lesson.'' She spat through her glimmering cherry lips, winking at me a mascara heavy lash bumbling with the sudden movement. 
 

