"That would have been Charlie and me many years ago." I turned to see Chris standing in the corner.Chris and Charlie had met here just after I bought ...he place. Chris had been a friend since college even though there was no more than friendship between us we had remained close. My first night here, she had come in to wish me luck and try and con me out of a free drink. We had been visiting when a tall, well-muscled man with blonde hair walked up and introduced himself as Charlie Morgan. He and. "I'm up. Where do you want to meet?" 11:12 PM.25 minutes later I'm walking by the famous First Avenue music club looking for the bar next door. All I know is that she has red hair and is wearing a U Of M jacket. I walk in and scan the crowd. Nothing. I work my way to back. Scan the bar -- there she is!Red wig and the right jacket. Checking her out. Big bootie. Big breasts. Cute face. African American. Yummy. Showtime!I walk up, tap her on the shoulder and say "Hello"We get a table. And we talk.. Some things they moved in now, some things were staying there and some would move to the new house. Nicole had taken Sally over to her house and asked her what would be OK to take where. As far as I could tell the new relationship was working out. I kept everything crossed that I could cross in the faint hope that it would continue and thrive.Sally met with Marion and got carte blanche to do whatever she wanted to the family house. I had this nagging feeling once again that I should be worried. Later that day, Rod was in the office not long before the end of his shift, finishing up the paperwork on the crash. ‘I wonder…’ he thought, as he put the finishing touches on the diagram of the crash. ‘I wonder what Mrs. Whitman would do if I called her.’ He got Rhonda Whitman’s phone number from the crash report and dialled it. The phone rang, and was picked up after three rings. ‘Hello?’ the soft, smooth voice that had stirred Rod earlier in the day said. ‘Is this Mrs. Rhonda Whitman?’ Rod.