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I could see the tears brimming in her eyes; I could feel my all too visible erection pulling at the fabric in my pants. Through my shirt sleeve I felt...Jane's hand lying lightly on my arm. Once more I caught a whiff of Lynette's acrid fear, mixed with the musky aroma of an aroused woman, not hers; Jane's, I guessed.The hide tails crashed across her back, the sharp ends flicking at her shoulder. She screamed, her fists pulling desperately at the ropes holding her up. I saw more than fear in her. He read over the narrative that the young cop had written, then both of them went outside for a while. When the young cop came back in, he started the report all over again. He said things like, 'Now let me get this straight. He had a knife in his hand and you were in fear of your life. Is that right?'"Well, I may be old, but Momma didn't raise any retards, so I said, that was about the way it was. Then he said something like, 'By the time you got the safety off and fired, the guy must have. More

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