I. or a long retired newsreader for the BBC. Elegant, grey hair with just few dark ones, aqualine features and the figure of a woman who had obviously...looked after herself. She was a stunner. Hubby provided a very good bottle of French red wine and we got to talk about each other. Helen held a job closely aligned to mine (connected with the law) and had spent that day working at the local Magistrates' Court. Husband had obviously dabbled in many careers, including model agencies though I was. ..”Rosie grinned and whispered something to Cayuse. He nodded, “Chiquita.”Cayuse carried a handsaw up the jailhouse stairs. Venerable looked on. We didn’t talk to him, left him completely alone. Another kind of punishment. Squaw Whore.Cayuse had told me he didn’t need any help with the Indian Board. I understood; he felt a personal duty, an obligation.In all, he made five trips, leaving around midnight each time. One to each reservation — Lakota, Chippewa, Crow. Then he carried two white canvas. ” “Okay, I won’t call the police but I’m not gonna just let you go as if nothing happened here. Take off your cloths” Tom said. “What! You’re going to rape me? ...Please No!” “Had you rather I call the police and you go to jail? Of course the phone is in the other room and Champ here does not like uninvited guests. No telling what might happen by the time I can get the phone and call 911.” She quickly weighed it all out in her mind. The hot breath, low growl and still bared. “Hey.” I look back at her and she’s holding her phone out to me (still not covered). I walk up to her and grab it and then quickly turn my back to her. Partially to give her some modesty but mostly to hide my hard on.It’s opened to a translator. The top half is a bunch of English, but the bottom half is Chinese. ‘Thank you. My clothes are ruined. Which doesn’t matter, you’ve seen all of me anyway.” My face flushes again. I type back in the bottom half and watch as the top half changes. ‘You.