I was stopped as I tried to enter my home. ‘This is a crime scene, you can’t come in.’ the officer told me. ‘This is my house’ I argued. Lie...utenant Turner, the detective in charge came over to talk to me. ‘Do you have proof you live here and a picture of your wife?’ I pulled out my wallet and showed my license and the pictures. He smiled when he saw the rose tattoo on her shoulder in the 4th photo. ‘Finally you came to a picture we can use to identify her. We are still trying to determine just. .. well, who knows?"Pop the trunk," she instructed as I shifted into Park.I complied. She didn't wait for me to get her door. She slid out, stepped to the rear of the car, fished her Capezio bag out of the trunk, then closed the lid with a precise click. I guessed she had had experience with precision-engineered automobiles before. Most people would have slammed the trunk lid; so necessary with American cars. It occurred to me Dianna was the type of girl who attracted a more affluent clientele.. Very seldom had she heard one of them speak of what he had seen, or done. She had asked one man, and his reply had made her blood run cold. He had told her, "If I told ya, ya wouldn't understand, and if ya did understand, ya wouldn't want ta hear it." They had kept company for a long time, and when he finally departed from her life, she had held a special place in her heart for him. She prayed for him every day.Mike was fondling her breasts, admiring their size and softness. Not too big, and as. "Actually, yes, but this is about more than that. Do you remember a Marcy Swenson, Mark?" Shelby asked me rather suddenly."Yeah, I had a big fucking crush on her when I was a teen. She was a classic MILF. Cutest widow in town. Certainly the youngest. Why do you ask?" I wondered at the coincidence."Remember that little baby she carted around in a stroller, later a little toddler in her arms?" Shelby continued her commentary, now that she was lucid."Yes, her name was ... oh, fuck! Her name was.