Blonde, lithe and wearing a striking white summer dress that was splashed with pastel colors, it was hard to miss her. I watched her for a moment or t...o, hoping that she’d turn and I could see her face, but she didn’t and my attention was drawn away from her image by the gallery manager, anxious to tell me that there had been lots of interest in my work, but no sales yet that evening. I wasn’t surprised. I was sure I would sell some prints here, but it was hardly ever in the first rush of an. Feeling naked and exposed she held the skirt in front of her with one hand covering her tits, she put her other hand over her cunt. She felt like everyone in the world was watcher her. Brenda looked around sheepishly. Seeing nothing, she draping the skirt over the car door, reached in the window and picked the blouse up off the seat. She held it up and realized that the top two buttons were still there, all the others were missing. ?This might work? she thought excitedly. She put on the blouse. "I see you have memorized the manual. That will do you no good here, though. This is a simple case of misunderstanding. But do what you will. Your failure will only hasten the destruction of that defunct Center. Good day..." Throwing back his trench coat, the detective left.Tom turned toward the frightened women. Three of them again, all pre-teenagers, seventh or eighth graders max. Under each seat was a pile of clothes...men's clothes. Tom turned his attention to their bodies and noticed. But that doesn't mean he's suicidal. Maybe depressed, but never suicidal."She tensed up, and I got ready for her to tear a strip off me for daring to contradict her. Then she slumped again, a bleak look crossing her face. "He bought a gun."I blinked in incomprehension. Tom hated guns. "I find that... hard to believe."She nodded in agreement. "So do I. I'd never have found out about it at all if the guy he bought it from hadn't called and asked how Tom liked it. I tore the house apart while Tom.