Thinking he was still down by the car she was singing along to a song that played on her phone. She didn’t hear him coming up the slope so he just stood looking and enjoying the sight. They were very skimpy panties and left little to the imagination, although of course Gerald’s imagination was starting to run amok anyway. It was too long since he’d enjoyed the warmth of a woman’s body and he suddenly became aware that it was a long time since he’d found release of his sexual tensions. As he drew closer he stopped and felt a warmth flow through his own body as his hormones responded to the sight of the neat triangle of white material he was looking at in front of his eyes. Soon the shoulder of the road wouldn’t be the only thing that was hard round here. He thought.As he stood there quietly admiring the sight of her creamy white thighs and the haven between them, Jenny sat up and looked straight at him and immediately realised he could see everything. “Oh!” She exclaimed, “I didn’t. He nodded quickly in assent. As he entered, she kept her distance, watching him carefully. He studiously avoided her eyes. He had seen enough. He perched on the edge of the couch, hands folded. "I am the detective with the responsibility for the murder of Michael Pasterno. I have become convinced you are his murderer. That in spite of the problems with your identity, you are the woman my mother's people called the "Mountain Amazon." I cannot prove this. I am not here on a vendetta. He deserved his fate. No one wants me to solve this case anyway." He shrugged. "But my analysis of the crime has disturbed me. I know only the stories that I have heard. And I do not understand, though I would like to."Her silence stretched out. He knew he had to wait, he had no choice. He kept his head down. It was not time for confrontation, not yet. He scanned over the room, noting it's neatness, the engineering board in front of the big picture window, the rich fabrics, but little furniture. She stood.
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