He was a tall, young man in his twenties, dark hair, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He stood before a black SUV. His wife was shorter, a petite, Japanes... woman with sleek, black hair. Beside them stood his “cousin,” Melody Samuels. I had my suspicions on the sandy-blonde woman and her true relationship to Clint.The young man had pissed off people in Sacramento. Powerful people with his rhetoric, his desire to change laws and upend relationships. Bigamy. Incest. He wanted to make both legal in not. At his feet is Missy, curled up tightly and asleep. The first thing he wonders is if his parents heard any of their activities last night. So far neither had come to his room and said anything. He is certain that if they did, finding him naked would have only added to the strangeness of the situation. The teen sighs and slips from the bed. Quickly he scoops up his pant and forces them over his erection and slips out the bedroom. He has to face the music, and he may as well get it over with.The. I doubt they'll be war."The Director smiled at this and stood up walking to Chase, hand extended. It seemed the right answer was what earned Chase the courtesy of a handshake. "That's what I think," he responded, "and I know a hell of a lot more about it than you or any of those 30 odd digital newscasts," he said noting the seemingly endless twenty-four hour all news channels. He moved back to sit on the front of his desk. The Director may be old but he bristled with energy and power. Only. I swallowed, trying to control my thoughts."I would be happy to ride with you," she said, and for the first time I was conscious of a slight accent, her W's tending toward V's and a hint of a guttural roll to her R's. I nodded, not quite trusting my voice. She swung her leg expertly over the saddle and started the bike.BMWs have always appealed to me, and as she started the motor, I remembered why. The German bike's four cylinders sang a seductive mechanical song, with a slight whirr of cam.