I would talk to the new guy, who would talk to my trustee. Perfectly legal, at least by Congressional standards.The party turned out to be ... strange... Nobody wanted to say the obvious, that we were having a party and talking about a dead man walking. At one point I was sitting at a table with Allen Steiner, John’s son and an old pal from Boy Scout days, having a drink. He asked, “Does this feel more than a little weird to you?”“I’ve never been to a funeral where the guest of honor was walking. She eased down the hallway, the opposite direction of her master bedroom and toward the sounds from Toni’s bedroom. The door was ajar, opened about six inches. Guilt flooded her as she moved to the opening and looked inside. This wasn’t just invading privacy, something she swore she would not do, but it smacked of voyeurism, peeping, spying. Worst of all, she couldn’t see much of anything, so she pushed the door softly a little more.Sara gasped at the sight. u*********sly, her hand pushed the. More

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