Old Mrs. White slowly left the bus, clutching her knitting bag. She always has her knitting, but I’ve never seen her knit, Eric, the bus driver, thought. No matter. She was a nice, grandma type. She rode around town all day long, every day, visiting her favorite places. It was probably something to do.
Unusually, Eric didn’t see her the rest of the day.
That evening, he watched the news. The nice, grandma type Mrs. White had been arrested. She ran a drug gang, which she supervised as she went about town visiting her favorite places. Her knitting bag held cocaine.