Normal, peaceful until the mimosas loosened our tongues. Our first threesome spat pitted Robert and me against Thomas. The national papers were strew... around the room. I put my cup on the counter and turned on the television. I flipped from one network to the next, deciding for Robert and I how long we lingered on each show. During those long infomercials, we enjoyed the conversation game, talking about the politics. “Angie,” Thomas offered. “These talking head shows on Sunday mornings don’t. He's right here in the room with us. Yes, all the doors are locked. Mom? Believe me, we are safer here than we would be at home. Thank you for worrying. Yes, we'll call you tomorrow when we're on the way home. I love you, too. Bye." How is she taking it?" I asked Lori."She's concerned. She's not freaked. I don't think she's buying the biker gang angle. It's the 'murdered girl' thing that has her rattled. We should have stripped them before we threw them out. The blood could be traced." Not. More

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