The tool continued tomove slowly and I advanced inward for a distance of about two inches andthen it stopped. After a slight pause I was slowly rotate... so that in ashort amount of time I was facing upward. Then a forward movement onceagain started to take place and in a minute or so I was about as far as Icould go. Looking upward I could see a dome like light colored surfacedirectly above my face. In the center was a small indentation, perhaps asixteenth to an eight of an inch across. This I. Laurel Robinson, 45, of Scarsdale, New York, froze to death one night after getting locked out of her home while looking for her cat. Her husband had long ago been banished to a second bedroom because of his snoring, and didn’t realize she was outside until the next morning. As the anchor on the local news intoned in an appropriately somber and deep voice, this tragic event turned a cold winter into a season of death. That night the temperature dropped to ten degrees overnight, and the next. His hand clenched around my leg under the table, squeezing it hard as he kept his gaze on me. I leaned over, picking the black lace up from the floor as my face burned with humiliation. The waitress hurriedly left our food and retreated back to the kitchen. “Don’t disobey me like that again,” Drew said firmly. “What… where did this come from?” I stuttered. “Put them back on the table,” he said, ignoring my question. This time I did as I was told quickly. We ate silently and quickly, my eyes. Directly in front of us, at the north end of the warehouse, several dozen cars were parked in front of a five step concrete staircase leading to a painted steel door. Two large, caged industrial lights illuminated the space surrounding the stair case. A small wooden shack with two uniformed guards inside stood next to the staircase. A sign above the door read, Wanderlust LTD. Scotty pulled the Escalade into a parking space. As he shifted the SUV into park Ginger said, “Were here.” Maureen said,.