I tried to tell her that Heather was just a fairly typical teenager. She was fifteen, four years younger than Stacie, and not a terrifying person in a...y way. Besides, I reasoned, if Stacie was to be part of the family it was about time that she met at least one of them. In the end, she agreed. I phoned Heather, and the visit was arranged.Heather was the only daughter of my sister Sally and her husband Jean-Pierre Lemire. Sally was a thoracic surgeon, and Jean-Pierre was in real estate. Between. When we got out of the car he led me by the collar to the club. There was a small neon sign above the door, flickering and flashing in pink. It was called pistols. Muffled techno was coming from upstairs. He hammered on the door three times, and a slot was swished back. Brooding eyes appeared and then the slot was slid back into place with a clang. Bolts were unlocked slowly and methodically, and the door squeaked open. A stark white face with piercing eyes glared at me from the shadows as I. But before I started in on her, I stopped to survey the wreckage left by last night's party here at Rumps. Not only were there empty bottles, glasses, leftover food and plates strewn everywhere, plus tables overturned, but there were…bodies. Lots of them. More than usual, I mean. Rumps is frequently a mess, but last night…well, there was a private party that the cops raided. The bodies must have been those who found hidey-holes, and stayed there until the cops left, then crept out and. But it could wait, I was enjoying my beer too much to care about such a thing. "Will you join me in the hot tub, Daddy?", I heard Mariah ask, as she hugged me from behind. Startled, I turned around and accidentally grazed her left breast with my hand, knocking her tiny bikini out of place by the smallest bit. "Oh sorry, baby, didn't mean to touch you there.", I said, "It's ok, Daddy, just come in the hot tub with me?". How could I resist.I was now 16 beers deep, fairly drunk. I was enjoying.