My eyes swerve onto the denim-clad backside of a workman who's directing a pickup driver. Helpless marionettes tugged by the whim of his gestures, the... linger over the strength rippling from retracted tartan sleeves, then rise to trace the slowly emerging profile as he turns. Wow. Devin Blossner had nothing on this fellow, even in his prime, which was way before my time. Omigosh. It's--CLANK. A jolt jars bone; the front wheel, having followed the Pied Piper of my distraction, has derailed over. "Beth took her time returning to where a put-out man waited, making a trip to the kitchen first, killing time while she was supposed to be tucking Isobel into bed to sleep it off. Then she drifted back down the hall where Eddie and Isobel crouched. Linda was hidden in the living room closet, waiting her chance to ambush Clayton Zachary, who didn't have the faintest idea of what was going on.Leaning close, Beth murmured, "I'll get him to screw me, don't worry. I think he's already interested.". More

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