CHAPTER 2: First nightShe wrapped herself in a towel to dry off, and went to hand me one when I stepped out. I took her hand and pulled her toward me, and we kissed."I have waited all year for this," she whispered to me. "So I have something special. I'll meet you in bed."I stole one more kiss, then left the bathroom. She came out, grabbed a bag, and went back in. I got onto the bed, which was still made up, and lay there (im)patiently."Can you close your eyes for a moment?"Well of course I closed my eyes. When she asked me to open them, she was standing against the window wearing a black fishnet top and a black g-string.When we had talked on the phone, at some point she asked what types of things I wanted her to wear. Fishnet was one of my top, and she did not disappoint.I got up from the bed, my cock hard again, and walked over to the window. Her nipples were poking through the fishnet, and she started to rub the front of her g-string.I took her hips and turned her around so that. Took in Walker, checked me out again. Skinny white jeans and a white, no-bra tee. Looked pretty okay with my golden tan.He gave me a small smile in passing. Nodded. I nodded back. Two healthy people, full of life. But passing in opposite directions. Other circumstances, other places ... maybe.Walker said, “I saw that.”Vanessa and I flew to Milwaukee early Sunday morning. Euforia was dark Sunday, Monday and Tuesday so we had time to look up a pedophile. The one who had purchased young Sasha Andrushchenko. Vanessa’s grandmother back when she lived in Kiev. Arthur Flanders. In his 80s but still around.We didn’t have a plan, didn’t contemplate revenge or police involvement or ... anything really. It was partly curiosity. But also, as I told Vanessa, “It’s just better to know. Usually.”I was wading through the ashes of what had been a very posh house. Difficult to imagine now.Allstate had written the homeowner’s policy in 1998, the year the house was built on one of the last remaining.
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