”“That's what Frank said.”Bertoli stepped back from my desk. “I should be going. We promised to tell you anything we found out about the fir..., and I thought I owed you the truth about Mrs. Fitzgerald, too. I'll pray for them.”Without another word, he left my office, fumbled in his pocket for something, and opened the front door. He stood outside, watching me lock up, and then walked away. I saw what he pulled from his pocket – his rosary.I went back to my office and studied the drawing. She replayed their entire converse from first to last. Saw the easy, rather careless arrogance with which he had commenced the encounter. Saw his impossible attempt at escape. Good God! How had he lived to reach the age of – what? – she paused, decided on thirty years, with the impetuosity of an 18 year old? He must have wits or luck, or both. Now she considered his offer. Give up her independence to partner this man? That was not a thought she would normally entertain for a moment. She. She held my face in her hands, glowing with happiness as she stared into my eyes while I pounded her body beneath me.She'd missed me this past weekend. Well, Kim missed me every weekend, but she always returned home out of duty to her father and respect for his household. But she had been in a particularly amorous mood upon her return to school last night. Last week, she'd been on her period and unable to have sex on our regularly scheduled Thursday. Knowing that she didn't really enjoy it, I. “I want one,” said the child. The mother tried to focus her daughter’s attention on a more suitable subject, but the little girl persisted. “I want one just like that,” she kept repeating. At last the mother said, “If you are a good girl and stop thinking about it now, when you grow up, you will have one.” “And if I’m bad?” asked the little one.“Then,” answered the mother, “You will have many.”“Hello, is this the Sheriff’s Office?”“Yes. What can I do for you?”“I’m calling to report ‘bout my.