Whatever the reason, he had just entered the locker room, having apparently finished his session. Perspiration coated his body, his skin glowing on th... shoulders, arms and upper legs. His blond hair was wet and matted in most places, and his face was glistening at the sides and just above his upper lip. The shirt and tight shorts he was wearing showed dark patches as evidence of his workout. His smile told me he had recognized me. “Bob! How are you doing?” he cheered and stepped over to squeeze. Sandy took my hand and led me to a trail that wound up the mountain. We walked up the hill and through the woods, holding hands.On the top of the hill, a stone watchtower was the centerpiece of the park. It was a tall structure, maybe a hundred and fifty years old, which was apparently built by the Calvary to watch the Indian movement in the valley below.The two of us walked up the dark, damp stairs inside the tower to the outlook. From the top, there was an incredible view of the valley. I erased the store camera surveillance tapes and her arrest file. I let her clean up in my bathroom. I saw her once more, not including on the film I made from my own video camera array.It was high summer of that next year when I got a call from the man on the third floor.“I think we have a team up here. Watch in the jewelry and cosmetics section. There’s a small brown woman in cargos and a crop top. I think she’s bagging for the teenager in the blue sweater and skirt. I’ve seen them bump into. She never wore panties when she came to meet me - she had learned that lesson the first time we met.I sliced the knife downward, pulling the denim from her with my other hand, running the tip down the inside of her thigh, cutting downward and freeing her leg of the jean's form-fitting embrace. The other leg followed just as swiftly, and she stood, bare-assed, bent backwards, arms spread and chained."That is better," I said, brushing the top of her mound with the back of my hand. She reacted.
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