She caught the .357 magnum revolver holstered on my belt and placed it on the corner of my desk next to my dusty light-house paper weight. The britche... dropped to just below my knees, held up partially by my BUG (i.e. back-up-gun), a .32 caliber Ivers Johnson revolver strapped to my calf. She turned me and pushed me back on the edge of the desk. Her hands grabbed the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down to be with my pants. ‘Ummmm’ she sighed. ‘It’s so long.’ No shit, I’m thinking. With. Bea and I will check out the old homestead, probably tomorrow, just in case as we talked about. I’m still kinda surprised you haven’t put Jacob’s man on this. He’d find him for sure.”“Yes, but I kinda want us to do the finding. I want to make this personal. If he spots you and Bea checking out the area; it might get him to rethink his total intransigence,” he said.“Kinda circuitous thinking to my mind, but you’re the boss,” she said.“Hmm,” he said.“It’s been forever since I’ve been anywhere. More

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