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Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch17 {Varkel} (MF bg oral)
Date: Thu, 22 Feb 2001 23:10:06 -0500
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The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel




Chapter 17:  New Friendships



When he finally raised his mouth away from hers, Ruth pulled him 
into her apartment and closed the door behind him.  "Oh, god, 
John," she whimpered.  "It's been a week!"

"I know it, darling.  I just couldn't get away."

"I'm starved of you!" she declared, face twisting in hunger.  She 
grabbed his hand in both of hers.  "Come on to the bedroom."

But he hung back.  "I've only got a minute, Ruthie."

"Only a minute?" she repeated without understanding.

"I've got to submit my report on the Locked-Room case and run 
down a tip left on my voice-mail.  But your place was on the way 
in.  I had to stop by and kiss you."  His hand came up and 
compressed her breast.  He smiled wanly.  "And cop a feel."

"Oh, god, a feel!"  She dropped to her knees, ripping down his 
zipper.  Just before her mouth enclosed him, she demanded, "Tell 
me what happened in Chicago."

His hand caressed her hair.  "This won't do _you_ any good."

She released him long enough to say, "More than you think.  Was 
it their car?"

"Yes," he answered as she re-enclosed him.  "It still had the 
license tag and motor number registered to that kid in 
Pellisville who admitted he sold it to them.  They must have 
abandoned it on the street, probably not too long after they fled 
from Kentucky.  It had been partly stripped.  Their fingerprints 
were all over it."

He was silent for a while, feeling the bobbing head ripple his 
flesh.  "Now I guess it's up to the Chicago cops, unless we're 
lucky enough to get another tip.  They made it only too clear 
that I was on _their_ turf!  The trouble, of course, is that it's 
an Ohio case worth little to the Chicago captains.  If I could 
put out ten men knocking on doors within a few blocks of where 
that car was found, showing those photographs, we'd have them in 
no time."  He sighed.  "They promised to do that for us during 
slack periods.  Huh!  If it was Cleveland it might mean 
something.  You ever hear of the Chicago police having any 
slack?"

She didn't answer.  Her mouth made slurping sounds.  "That feels 
good!" he admitted with more enthusiasm.  "Sometimes I wish I 
could just stay here with you, my tongue in your cunt and my dick 
in your mouth.  What a life that would be, eh?"

She moaned and redoubled her efforts.  His fingers fondled her 
cheeks, then closed on her temples, increasing the length of her 
strokes.  His whole body stiffened.  "Honey, I'm about to come, 
and I haven't even jerked off in a week.  Are you sure ...  Oh, 
god!"

She shuddered but enclosed him loosely until he relaxed, then 
returned his moist organ within his britches and zipped up.  When 
she stood, her face was dry but her eyes sparkled.

He shook his head.  "You're incredible, Ruthie.  I hate to leave 
you, but ..."

"You'll come back tonight, won't you?"

"I don't know.  I may have to meet someone about that tip."

"Can't you let Martin run it down?"

"No, this one is a personal contact from before my promotion."

She heaved a sigh.  "Well, at least I get to keep your I.D."

His eyebrows rose politely.  "My I.D.?"

She chuckled wryly.  "As they told us in Forensics, the sperm is 
the man."


* * *


"There's no one home at my house after school," Bobbie announced 
to the pretty boy slyly.

"Me too," Alan responded.  "My parents don't get home until a 
couple of hours after me."

Bobbie had been talking with the boy for over ten minutes, 
finally getting to know him and deliberately directing the 
conversation to this point.

"We live close by.  Why don't we do our homework together today 
after school?"  She smiled in seeming innocence.  "We could help 
each other."

The lad shook his head regretfully.  "I'm not allowed to have 
anyone over when I'm home alone."

"That's no problem, Alan."  She grinned.  "My parents don't mind 
if I bring home a classmate."

The boy brightened.  "Oh?  Then we can go to your place!"

"Sure.  It's so boring to be stuck alone indoors because of this 
cold weather."

"That's true."

"So, will we do it today?" she asked the boy eagerly, not 
explaining what she meant by _it_.

"Okay," he agreed at first, then shook his head.  "Darn!  I just 
remembered.  I'm supposed to go to my cousin's today."

"How old is she?" demanded Bobbie with instant hostility.

"It's a he, a year older than me.  He wants to show me his 
favorite toy again.  He's so proud of it."

His expression suggested that he was prepared to discuss the 
cousin's toy at length, but Bobbie felt only contempt for boys' 
toys.  She asked impatiently, "Well, when _can_ you come home 
with me?"

"I'll tell him I can't come back tomorrow."  He smiled at her.  
"I'll meet you after school tomorrow and we can walk together."

The bell rang announcing the end of recess.  As they went back 
inside Bobbie wondered if the pretty boy could be so absolutely 
clueless.  She hoped so.  She looked forward to great fun when 
she got him alone.


* * *


Alan was not thinking about sex when he followed Bobbie into the 
apartment on the following afternoon.  To the best of his 
knowledge, girls were hardly even curious about it.  As for 
himself, he had begun jacking off just five weeks previously, and 
he was more sexually attracted to his cousin Carl than he was to 
any girl.  He had agreed to study with Bobbie because of Louise's 
insistence that Bobbie thought he was handsome and liked him a 
lot.  Believing this gave him a curiously warm feeling.  He 
accompanied her, planning vaguely to verify it somehow.

"It's toasty warm in here," he said as Bobbie closed the door 
behind them.

"You can toss your parka on the leather chair," Bobbie said, and 
she did just that with her own as she headed for the kitchen.  
"Do you want a Coke?"

"Yeah," he replied, looking about, concluding that Bobbie's 
apartment was larger and nicer than his.

He sat on the sofa and waited for the Cokes.  He felt drowsy in 
the warm room and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

"That darn Jenny drank the last one."  Bobbie stopped just before 
him and grinned at his somnolence.  "Are you sleepy?  I often 
take a nap after school.  Why don't we do that -- take a short 
nap?  Then we can do our homework."

She reached down, took hold of the boy's hand and tugged.  He got 
to his feet, a bit confused.

"I could nap here on the couch," he suggested.

"Oh, it's so much nicer to nap with another person," Bobbie 
insisted.  "We'll just have our shoes off, you know."

She led him by the hand to her bedroom where she tossed some 
stuffed animals from the bed onto the floor.  She pulled two 
pillows from beneath the quilt and then sat on the edge of the 
bed.  Alan joined her, and they both took off their shoes.  She 
reclined on the bed, nestling her head in a pillow.  The boy 
hesitated for a moment but then stretched out next to her.

They lay quietly side by side for a few moments.  The clueless 
Alan, lying on his back, shut his eyes, eager for a nap.  Bobbie 
turned on her side facing him and slightly curled her body so 
that one knee touched the boy's left leg, which was covered by 
thick ski pants.  She became annoyed when she heard him begin to 
snore lightly.  She wriggled to him until their bodies touched 
more fully and their heads were close together.  Alan did not 
awake even when Bobbie draped an arm across his chest and 
snuggled to him.  She leaned up slightly to look at his pretty 
face.

When she touched his lips with hers, his eyes blinked open at 
last.  They stared at each other with lips pressed lightly 
together.  Bobbie giggled, then kissed him thoroughly, tongue and 
all.

"I don't feel like napping anymore," she said, her body half upon 
his.  "Do you want to play house?"

The boy was speechless, but he began to understand the awesome 
possibilities of the situation.  But with a girl!  A few weeks 
ago the thirteen year old Carl had climbed into his bed at night 
and introduced him to homosexual play.  Alan did not know how to 
begin with a girl.

"It's warm in here," Bobbie murmured into his ear.  "We should 
take off some of these heavy clothes."

He did not resist her fingers when they began to undo the buttons 
on his shirt, and with a small, shy smile he helped her take it 
off, followed by his undershirt.

"You have such a marvelous chest," she cooed, leaning her head 
down to take a swollen nipple into her mouth.  "You almost have 
titties," she giggled and sucked on the other one.

She then kissed him passionately while her free hand roamed down 
his body to slip a bit into his trousers.

"Do you want to see me naked?" she asked coyly.

Now incapable of speech, the terrified boy could only nod.

Bobbie knelt on the bed and slowly stripped naked, all the while 
watching Alan's face register increasing fascination and 
excitement.

"Have you ever before seen a naked girl?" she asked him, as she 
knelt on the bed fully exposed.

"N-no." the boy stammered, his eyes riveted on Bobbie's hairless 
labia.  A hole was hidden inside those curious lips.  He knew 
that but little else.

"You have to get naked too," she insisted and unzipped his ski 
pants.  "It's only fair."

"Do I have too?" the boy almost whined.

"I won't let you touch me otherwise," she declared firmly.

Alan wanted very much to touch her, to explore her body.  He 
lifted his butt and allowed the girl to pull his pants off.

"You have such pretty legs, Alan," Bobbie murmured, almost to 
herself, running a hand up and down a smooth thigh.

He was very conscious of the erection that tented his underpants 
and tried to cover it with his hands.

"I want to see it," Bobbie insisted and pushed his hands aside.

Again the boy raised his butt, allowing the intriguing girl to 
strip him naked except for his socks.

"That's very nice," she said, not disappointed by the modest but 
not inappropriate size of his cock, because she realized how 
young he was.

The circumcised, creamy shaft seemed to be virginal, although it 
had once visited the dirty hole of an older boy.  It was three 
quarters grown, but still a bit slender with a pinkish top that 
was shaped somewhat like a helmet.  There was nothing dramatic 
about it, Bobbie thought, not like the adult cocks she had known.  
It was a sweet looking thing with just a few hairs above it.  She 
grasped it, pumped it, and after a few seconds Alan's face 
contorted and his cock spurted slimy white stuff, the first 
stream landing on her thighs.

"Oops," she exclaimed and then giggled.  But she knew enough to 
finish the boy.

"You can examine me now," she announced and laid herself upon the 
bed face up.

"You're all messy," he protested with a wrinkled nose.

Indeed the boy's semen slimed her thighs and belly.

"Then let's take a shower together," she responded gaily and 
jumped from the bed.

They soon crowded into a steamy shower stall where the warm spray 
washed away what Alan found offensive, leaving the girl's body 
wet and sleek.  He hesitantly placed his fingers on her incipient 
titties, which were a bit more pronounced than two months 
previously.

"They're tender," she warned him, though liking the apprehensive, 
virginal touch.  She marveled at the awe in his face.

"You have a hole," he stated seriously with his face an inch from 
hers.

"Go find it," she smirked, delighted at his naivete.

Alan could not appreciate the loveliness of Bobbie's young body, 
the alluring softness of her slender thighs, the curve of her 
calves, the belly that protruded just a tad, her graceful, narrow 
shoulders and shapely arms.  He was too young.  He was in search 
of basic anatomy.  He went to his knees in front of her and 
parted her labia in quest of that mysterious hole.  Amid a 
confusion of fleshy folds he found it and inserted a finger, then 
two.

"That's where you put it, Alan," Bobbie said softly and turned 
off the shower.

Bobbie was no older than he, but she recognized the exquisiteness 
of his flesh as she toweled him with loving pats and frequent 
kisses at various soft places.  She sucked his beautiful cock to 
erection, absolutely astounding the boy who from Carl's example 
thought that girls didn't do such things.

"Let's go back to bed," she said in a husky voice, rising to her 
feet and pulling the lad from the bathroom by the hand.

"What ... what are you going to do?" he asked tremulously.

She giggled.  "It's what _you're_ going to do!"

Still moist from the shower they climbed upon the bed.  With 
knees raised high, Bobbie pulled him between them and guided his 
hard cock to her opening.

"Kiss me and push it in," she directed with a sigh.

He did just that.  He learned quickly, slipping out only once.  
This was so much more magnificent than fucking Carl, he thought.  
The girl was extremely responsive, moaning and scratching his 
back.  He felt like a man, in full charge of her pleasure, which 
seemed to grow with each thrust of his cock.

"Oh, Alan!" she gasped, nearing a point of no return, savoring 
the feel of her young lover atop her.  "Oh, Alan!" she cried 
feeling a monstrous pleasure approach rapidly.

Only by accident their orgasms struck at the same time, causing 
the small room to reverberate with ecstatic sounds.

Sated, Alan looked down at the pretty girl whose face was again 
calm, eyes closed.  He rolled off beside her.  She eagerly 
welcomed his embrace and they quickly fell asleep.

After some time Bobbie awoke with an arm across the boy's body, 
her faced pressed to his shoulder.  She felt the urge to fuck 
again but changed her mind when she glanced up at the clock on 
the dresser.

"Alan," she said aloud pushing at him.  "Alan, wake up.  It's 
late. You have to go."

He came awake in confusion.

"Get dressed.  Hurry!  It's already five thirty," Bobbie 
exclaimed and jumped from the bed.

Alan also quickly rose and rushed to put on his clothes, which he 
managed to do in a couple of minutes.  The naked girl accompanied 
him into the living room, where he retrieved his parka from the 
leather chair and put it on.  A rattle at the front door 
petrified the boy, but Bobbie just mouthed an unvoiced "shit!"

Jenny and Paul stood in the doorway.  They stopped to stare at a 
pretty thing, possibly a boy, bundled for skiing, while Bobbie 
hovered nearby, clothed only in an expression of chagrin.

Paul scowled, shook his head and walked past the children into 
the kitchen.  Jenny looked at them with a faint smile on her 
pretty face.

"Who's your friend, Bobbie," she asked casually, cocking an 
eyebrow at the pretty thing, who blushed deeply and moved 
anxiously from foot to foot.

"That's Alan,"

"Alan!  So you're a boy.  I couldn't tell, the way you're 
bundled."  Jenny smiled sweetly and palmed the lad's rosy cheek.  
"It's time for you to go home now, Alan."

The boy needed no further permission.  He ducked around Jenny and 
raced from the apartment to clatter down the stairs.

Jenny closed the door and turned to Bobbie.

"Was he good?" she asked the girl in an off-hand manner.

"Yeah, for a virgin.  He's really quite beautiful and I was in 
the mood."

"So he got you off, did he?"

"Yeah."

"I don't suppose you used a rubber."

Bobbie looked aside toward the window.

"Bobbie," Jenny exclaimed with a shake of her head, "I wouldn't 
be surprised if you were already pregnant, the way you carry on."

"Well, you work at a hospital," the girl retorted flippantly.  
"You can fix it if I am."


* * *


"Come in."

Hawker looked up as Bobbie came through his office door.  He 
smiled at her fresh prettiness.  Her blonde hair resembled a halo 
above the dark school uniform.

"The librarian said you wanted to see me."

"Yes.  Come in and have a seat."

Her eyes glinted defiantly.  "You're not the headmaster.  You're 
not even one of my teachers.  You don't have any right to make me 
miss library."

"What's the matter?  Did you plan to suck Peter and Arnie again?"

The shot told.  She straightened up, face blank.

"Come on in and sit," he repeated, indicating the straight chair 
beside his desk.  "And close the door."

She didn't budge.  "What do you want?"

"To return your property."  He took up a small notepad from his 
desk and opened it to display her name.  "This is yours, I 
believe."

"I left it in the basement?" she asked.

"Please close the door, Miss Smith."

She took a breath and obeyed, pushing the door closed quietly, 
then taking the indicated seat.

He laid the notepad in front of her.  "You have an interesting 
way of describing your boy friends.  I wonder what you'll say 
about me."

"You've read it, then."  Her voice was cool.  She regarded him 
levelly.

"Yes.  It's cryptic in places, which I gather you intended, but I 
think I figured out most of it.  This Alan you mention several 
times:  is that Alan Shindle?"

"What if it is?"

"I agree with your assessment.  He is indeed the prettiest lad in 
the school.  How is your program for him coming along?"

"Why should I tell you anything?"

"Bobbie!"  He affected a pained expression.  "I thought we were 
getting along.  You sure fooled me."

"Fooled you at what, Jolly Pink Giant?"

"Huh!"  He leaned back.  "That's exactly right.  You do remember 
calling me that when you played midget for me in the basement."

She sniffed.  "I did like you in the basement.  But now I've come 
down."

"Even though you've gone up," he noted ironically.  "Is that how 
it works:  a lot of dicks, one after the other, gets you high?"

"All the way to heaven," she admitted serenely.

"That wasn't your first gang-bang, was it?"

She hesitated.  "'Gang-bang?'"

His eyebrows rose.  "You don't know the word?"

"I never heard it before, but I can guess what it means.  I still 
don't see why I should tell you anything."  She shoved the 
notepad into the side pocket of her skirt.

He said earnestly, "Because we can be a lot of help to each 
other, Bobbie."

"What kind of help?"

"Several kinds, actually.  For example, I don't deal much with 
women for my own pleasure.  They are so slow to warm, so 
contrary, so indifferent to their own advantage, so ambiguous in 
their signals --"

"I'll soon be a woman," she interrupted coldly.

"Ah, but you're not like them.  You're as direct as a splash of 
cold water.  You know what you want, all the time, don't you?"

"Dick," she declared.

He chuckled.  "Exactly.  Bobbie, you have no idea what a jewel 
you are."

She sneered, "Your dick isn't nearly enough."

He nodded.  "I know.  But I can help you get enough."

She studied him.  "Those boys in the basement: they do what you 
say, don't they?"

"More or less," he admitted.

She smiled.  "Then let me know when they'll be there."

"I can do that.  But the school basement is dangerous, Bobbie, 
especially for you."  He meant especially for himself but judged 
it unwise to tell her so.  "I have a better place, a second 
apartment not two blocks from here.  I keep it to play in.  It 
backs on an alley, so you can get in and out of it without being 
seen.  It even has protected parking.  I could give you the use 
of that apartment for your fun and games."

"An apartment!" she exclaimed, studying his face.  "What will I 
have to do there?"

"I'm sure you can deduce most of it.  Basically you'll loan me 
your tight little cunt with no strings attached.  What I have in 
mind is pretty much what happened the other day.  I'd take you 
when the others are played out."

Her eyes danced back and forth on his.  He could almost hear the 
wheels turning in her head.  "Can I bring boys of my own choice?"

"I don't see why not.  _Boys_, now, not men!"

"How would I get in?"

"I'd let you in.  I have to be there, Bobbie.  Boys can get out 
of hand in a hurry."

"I know it," she agreed.  "That's what happened at my first gang-
bang."

"They were rowdy?"

"They had a fight.  The cops showed up."

"Good god!  What happened to you?"

"I ... sneaked away.  I know better than to let the cops catch me 
fucking."

"Smart girl!  And thanks for telling me.  May I assume, then, 
that you like my proposition?"

She nodded.  "That apartment sounds interesting.  Can I go there 
today?"

"No, not today.  I have to make some arrangements.  But it'll be 
soon.  Let me ask you again, it _is_ Alan Shindle that your notes 
regard so highly?"

"Yeah."

"How are you getting along with him?"

"I fucked him yesterday."

"Did you!  Excellent!  He was a virgin, I bet."

"He didn't say, but, yeah, he acted like it."

"Was he able to ..."

"Squirt?  Oh, yeah: gobs!  He has a nice, straight dick with a 
bright pink knob."

"Bobbie, you're making my mouth water."

She laughed.  "You'd like me to take him to that apartment, 
wouldn't you?"

"I would, but ..."  He took a deep breath.  "The risk is so 
terrible!  One has to be extremely careful at first, until the 
lad shows if he's a braggart."

"A what?"

"If he enjoys telling his friends about his experiences."

She shook her head.  "He hasn't told anyone about me yet."

"How do you know?"

"My good friend would've clued me if she heard it."

"I see," he said admiringly.  "You understand how these things 
work."

She grinned.  "As you said, I'm still a kid."

He snorted.  "Or an old woman in a kid's body."  He added 
thoughtfully, "What one also has to worry about is guilt.  Do you 
think Alan would feel guilty if he let a grown man enjoy him?"

"I don't know."  She smiled slowly, eyes distant.  "But I think I 
know how to find out."


* * *


"Hannah, you know who this is," the familiar voice on her 
answering machine had declaimed.  "Call me special tonight at 
eight."  She was greatly relieved when, digging through a shoebox 
of receipts in the back of her bedroom closet, she came across 
Bernie's "special" telephone number, the one in the blind 
apartment that she had visited once, ten years before.  She had 
spent three days there and could hardly walk when she left, but 
god, what a wonderful three days!

Having stopped by a bank before it closed for ten dollars in 
quarters, she was ready to do business when she found a gasoline 
station with a free-standing telephone booth, one well-lit with 
no car parked nearby.  After inserting the required coins, she 
keyed the special number at one minute after eight.

A guarded voice answered on the first ring.  "Hello."

"Bernie, is that you?"

"Hannah?"

"It's me, Bernie, still kicking."

"Yeah, aren't we both.  Thanks for calling, Hannah.  I need to 
talk about those two lovebirds you sent me a month or so back."

"How're they working out, Bernie?"

"Oh, they're doing fine.  You were right, as usual:  a tart who's 
a nurse is something special.  It's not them; it's their 
baggage."

"You mean the kid?"

"Kid?  What kid?"

"I told you about the twelve year old girl who's staying with 
them."

"Oh, yeah.  No.  At least I don't _think_ she's the problem.  
Kid, eh?  That'll bear looking into.  Hold on a sec."

She heard a pen scratching.  "What _is_ the problem, Bernie?"

"Did you know my nephew, Little Pete?"

"I don't believe so, Bernie."

"He wasn't much, but he was all I had left, if you know what I 
mean."

"'Was?'"

"Yeah, _was_.  Somebody bumped him last week.  In his car.  I've 
got his last conversation on tape, and you know what?  It was 
about your lovebirds."

"It was?"

"The bastard snuffed Pete when he didn't tell how to locate 
them."

"He did!  A cop?"

"No, not a cop.  Cops don't play that way unless they're in on 
the game.  But that's not all.  Two of my guys didn't report in 
yesterday.  We found them this morning, what was left of them, 
taped to water pipes in their apartment building, along with a 
note."

"Not about Paul and Jenny!"

"But it was.  It says, 'Sooner or later you will give me Paul 
Lanning and Jenny Collier.  I hope you have some people left when 
you do.'"

"Good god, Bernie!"

"Not so good.  Hanna, I know you always play straight with me.  I 
also know you're a sucker for hard cases.  Hell, _I_ was one once 
myself!  And maybe I still owe you.  But I'm asking you, for my 
own protection and maybe for yours, too, if there's anything 
about those two you forgot to mention."

The line was silent for a moment.  At last she said, "I told you 
the Ohio cops was after them.  For murder."

"No," he disagreed patiently, "not murder, exactly.  I checked on 
that.  They're wanted for questioning, not as suspects.  They're 
not really fugitives, not the kind the feds would take an 
interest in -- though they probably don't realize it."

She sighed.  "Bernie, I don't _know_!  Nobody's bothered me about 
them except the cops.  That lieutenant from Bering -- what was 
his name, Calhoun?  Yeah, Calhoun -- he grilled me pretty good.  
One of the locals that my girls do favors for had to pull him 
off.  I thought he came on awful strong.  I even asked him if 
they were serial killers or something."

"What'd he say?"

"That was when my guy told him to take it easy.  But he took my 
registry downtown and made a copy of it."

Again the line was silent until the man said, "That may be how 
the cops knew they were in Chicago.  I know they found the car 
here where it had been left.  That Ohio lieutenant came visiting 
and looked it over, not that it helped him much.  Your lovebirds 
apparently abandoned it at the first empty parking slot.  Smart 
of them!  But, Hannah, what I can't find out is how anyone 
associated them with _me_!"

She took a breath and straightened her shoulders.  "I'm the only 
one _here_ that knew about it, but you must have a lot of people 
there who know."

"If it was just the cops, I'd say one of my guys was the blabber, 
hard as that would be to take, even if I can't imagine why he 
would do it.  But this isn't the cops.  Apparently it's only one 
man, though I admit he's a devil."

"Didn't you suggest you might let Jenny take over for one of your 
girls you had to let go?  Maybe she was jealous."

"No."  He chuckled grimly.  "I can assure you, that one is not 
jealous.  Though another might be.  I'll look into it.  But, 
Hannah, who could anyone blab _to_?  Who is it that wants them 
bad enough to kill my guys over it?"

When Bernie had sought her help during the federal shake-up, his 
voice had contained similar puzzlement.  As she had done then, 
she adopted a businesslike, no-nonsense tone of her own.

"There's too much we don't know about those two," she declared 
flatly.  "Why don't you send a couple of good detectives to 
Bering to look around?"

"Hmm.  Maybe you've got something there."

"Have you asked Paul and Jenny point-blank, Bernie?"

"No."

"Well, why don't you?  And show them those guys hanging from the 
pipes."

"I could show them the pictures we took."  He sighed.  "But I 
won't.  Jenny's too popular with my best clients.  I'm afraid it 
would scare her right out of Chicago.  No ...  But I'll send the 
dicks.  And thank you for calling, Hannah.  I always feel better 
after I talk to you."

"Any time, Bernie."

When she had hung up the receiver, she mumbled under her breath, 
"Wish I could say the same about you."




NEXT:  Chapter 18: Playing Both Ends
Varangian:  ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis:     kellis@dhp.com

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