The house was quiet. Samira was in the bathroom. The night guard slid an orange envelope undern the door. The telegram from Lahore read: MOST GRACIOUS...SIR, I HAVE FOUND THE PROSTITUTE. CALL THE LAHORE MARRIOT ROOM 233. VASILLA.Tariq telephoned immediately. Vasilla’s slow, husky voice was refreshing over the static ridden line. Before Vasilla finished, however, Tariq ordered him to stay put.“Samira,” yelled Tariq.He could hear the water running. He knocked frantically. He had never doubted. But, just sometimes. And, I'm a married woman now. So, it's off limits and I like what I have so no worries or whatever. But you know, sometimesss..." I didn't know you missed that," I said, curious about what she was thinking and feeling a little dangerous in asking."I'm getting so horny thinking about it. Aren't you?" She looked right at me and sort of stretched her body like a cat, squeezing her legs together. It was incredibly sexy. I couldn't help myself looking down her thin form. We were. "It's me," said the crackly voice from the ground floor. "I'm here with Primrose. Won't you let us in?" Of course, dear," said Karen who pressed the entrance button and then sat back on her stool."We're out of luck," she said to Kevin. "It's my daughter. You've got plenty of time to drink your coffee." Your daughter?" said Kevin with alarm. "Shouldn't I be... ?" Your clothes?" said Karen. "My daughter won't mind. Anyway, here she is..."The door to Karen's apartment opened and Kitty let herself. But before I could leave the house Sherry was there again and asked if she could ride along, I said ok but this will be boring and stinky, she said she didn’t care as long as she could get out for a while. When we finished up we had a couple of beers then we went home to let the glass cure overnight, then I would check and fix any issues that popped up. I took sherry home and dropped her off then went home myself.The next day my friend called and asked could I drop by early to look everything.