’ ‘Perhaps he thought you’d overlook it and just see him as the man you’d talked to online’ he suggested, really getting into his role of wi...e father confessor, then instantly regretting it as he saw she now felt obligated to talk to this revolting specimen of manhood. ‘But you know,’ he added, ‘if he lied about his age, he may have lied about other things, you don’t have to talk to him. He has no way of recognising you, does he?’ Mutely she shook her head and pushed her hair behind her ear,. After a few minutes, he texted me a photo of her alone, going down an escalator. "Keep up the surveillance," I texted back.The next photo came a few minutes later: my mom looking at dresses, a pretty saleswoman in a short skirt helping her sort through the walls of clothes. She was carrying a few more bags; it looked like she had bought a few things.Eventually, Jon sent me a photo from fairly up close of my mom in the beach shop, looking at red, orange, and blue bikinis: small strips of fabric. They were right, of course, which immediately put me on the defense. All Bitch hat to tell that man was that all this happened against her will, and I would go to prison. For a long time. So, to my shame, I have to say that I was on edge and not very nice to the poor man.“Ma’am, are you all right?” he asked.She just looked at me.“Bitch, you may answer his questions. Don’t take orders form him, though.”She faced the policeman and nodded her head.“Uh, could you please answer my question,. I started to fall into the speech patterns of my youth as I dialed my father's telephone number."Nicky! It sure is good to hear from you. I'm right as rain. How you? How's college comin' along?" Good, Pop, real good. How's Jessie?" Fine as frog's hair. She's not here right now, went to the store. How's that husband of yours?" Great. Did you get the painting Josh sent you?" Yup, it's hangin' on the wall in the livin' room. Everybody that sees it thinks it's a mighty fine picture."Well, he has a.