.. sounded much more resigned. Maybe even relieved.”I saw Dotty nod. “The mother and I had a long talk,” she told us. “To tell you the truth, we got sloshed. She seemed like a tense woman. Hardly able to make eye contact. But I sensed she relaxed more than she normally did around me. And getting drunk loosened her. She never said anything specific, but her attitude to her husband, and more surprisingly her youngest son, suggested she had lost any fondness for both of them. No words of confirmation, but looks, and the slightest of nods...”Not long after that I got a call from Sandy. “You won’t believe this, Joe,” she said, “But the Whitemans paid. Paid everything.”“You’re kidding,” I said. “Who signed the check?”“The check’s coming, but a woman called. Patricia Whiteman.”“The mother,” I said.“Yeah. Weird, hunh?”“Like father, like son,” I muttered.I talked to Kenneth about it and he nodded. “It was her money that funded their business,” he said.I decided to call the woman.“Hello,” she. Her shorts were past her knees and her shirt was rolled up under her neck, exposing her little breasts as she lay on her back, her hand still thrust down her underwear. She daren't move... perhaps if she didn't the intruder wouldn't notice her any further. "Not going to move? Fine. Have it your way then." With that, the intruder stepped into the room, shut the door and walked around Lina's awkward body. Something landed on one of the beds with a muffled thud. "Are you getting up or not?" Lina suddenly snapped back into consciousness and scrambled to readjust her clothing. She jumped up to her feet, only to be face to face with a gorgeous, slender woman. Her long, curly locks floated down to her back, dyed a fire truck red. She wore a blue camisole that showed a generous portion of her approximately C-cup breasts, tight white jeans and nude pumps. The woman was incredibly beautiful, even with the snarky look etched on her features. "Sorry." Lina was beet-red. "Whatever. Do what you.
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