Undies, mine and his. Two suits of scrubs, our substitute for pajamas. Another blue towel. And a brown towel.Okay. That’s different. I don’t – d...finitely don’t – remember Ed nor I using a brown towel. Odd, too, is that it was stuffed down into the hamper a bit. We usually don’t stuff anything.I pulled the towel out, holding it. The evidence was right there. Dried. I know what a wet spot looks like when it dries on a towel. After all, Ed and I have run that experiment a bunch of times.So, then. I think that Tom is that guy.While the group was out to lunch one day, I went over an installed somespyware on Tom's computer. I would now be able to see what kinds of siteshe visited and once he logged into his personal e-mail, I would have hispassword. From there I would be able to trace his home computer and getaccess to it.At first, I was rather irritated by his innocuous e-mails on his personalaccount. He was e-mailing this cousin or that, or this friend or that andchatting about TV. More

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