These private investigators weren’t buried in dozens of breaking cases, weren’t being watchdogged by a civic bureaucracy.Well, time to quit philos...phizing, time to turn pages. Donkey work, but sometimes... I started with the Crestwood home. Next door to Mayor Tom Lynch. I’d driven to Crestwood the day before and walked the neighborhood. The Robinsons — Janice and another Tom — had dined at the Capitol Grille that night. Empty nesters in their 50s.There was no suspicion, zero, of insurance. Her body was writhing with pleasure, as Jeremy's tongue fondled her. "Should I be watching this?" She thought, but she couldn't tear herself away. Debbie took a step from the door to make sure she wasn't seen, and undid a button on her blouse. A few beads of sweat had formed on her breasts. "Whew...it's hot in here," she thought! Debbie did have to admit that time had taken it's toll on her. Hips were wider that they were, breasts were not perky anymore, unlike Katie's!Debbie could still see. More

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