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The laughter had made my sides hurt, my face ache from smiling. But still, the voice on the other side of the phone left me aching for more.I felt it pooling, low in my stomach, though he was long gone, having needed to get up early in the morning, his family life calling him. Truly, mine would be too, as children often do. It had been what felt like years since I felt like this, like a woman again. I could feel myself growing damp, eager, imagining his smile, his brown eyes warm and dancing as he told me about his day, the things we shared in common – both of us working in office settings, my imagination growing bolder, tracing his shoulders, his arms, down to his hands, then his fingers tracing down my skin.I shuddered, rubbing my hands against my eyes, feeling goosebumps running across my skin. My panties were quickly becoming wet, imagining those fingers, tracing circles on my skin, pushing my loose t-shirt up over my rounded hips, picturing him kneeling between my thighs, his. Lanzetta walked the three hundred feet to approach the car. It was a bloody scene, that much was clear, but he was focused on the cylinder he could see sitting in the back seat. He touched nothing, but the scuba tank appeared to be NOT leaking. He did a quick survey of the carnage in the car.Thank God for small favors. Big ones too, he thought to himself. He was not normally a religious man, but he crossed himself as he walked back toward the car.He took off the gas mask, keyed his collar mike, and said, "Looks like there is no leak. Repeat: no leak. We can start spreading the crime tape, boys. There's two DBs and there are indications they were shot from the north and the south. So don't go in those areas. We'll have the lab boys do that, after the H team is done."The camera just kept rolling."What did you find, Sergeant?" asked Stinson."Not a word goes out until we're done with the investigation or you get authorization from somebody higher than me." Cross my heart, and go to.
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