" The FBI official disconnected before Mike could respond. That wasn't important anyway. Bridget was coming and he had to be ready for her.(The presen...)Mike watched Bridget, HIS Bridget, sleep. She lay on one side, her hand under her head. The moonlight illuminated her; her red hair falling in curls over the cute stub nose dotted with the freckles that she never could get to go away. Her slender body shone whitely, set off by the green nightgown that did little to hide her trim body and nothing. ."Kimberly gasped at Helen's words and covered her mouth with the splayed fingers of her hand, muffling her words and almost hiding the slight quaver in her voice."But no one lives in the Bois de Vincennes! I have heard that it is haunted and not a place where one should go for a casual stroll. I live in Montmartre and, while it is not a savory place to wander, I at least feel secure enough to walk the streets where I will during the hours of daylight. Madame, do you mean to tell me that you. More

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