Why didn’t I just tell him what we were up to,” she uttered, her eyes searching his for assurance, his nodding head and occasional grunt offering ...ittle comfort. “Why didn’t I just tell Charles we were in bed?” she repeated, blowing a stream of smoke through a frustrated sigh, knowing that a confession was inevitable. A long painted finger nail sweeping over his stomach and an invitation laden with flirtatious suggestion interrupted his nodding head. "I want you in the shower." she said,. He had not been seen or heard from anywhere since the night of the explosion. Not a single appearance at a single clinic, doctor's office, pharmacy, nothing. He might as well have blown up with the house. His bank accounts were just barely enough to cover the monthly bills for two months if something went wrong. Hardly in keeping with his persona as Kenneth Riley: over fifty percent of his take home was unaccounted for. Checking small businesses in the area placed him as an inconsistent shopper. More

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