"If you hadn't been suspicious, you'd never have hired me in the first place." "I know," Anna said, dropping the torn pictures. She stared at the DVD....The urge was strong within her to yank the disc out of the machine and stomp it with her heels. "It's not you, and it's not the pictures. I'm just fantasizing that I'm doing this to Roger. The son of a bitch!" She couldn't believe that she was actually in a detective's office, that she had just seen photograph and videotape evidence her husband. But it also did something else. It smelled. The darn thing was made of real, honest to goodness rubber; a heady, pungent odor that took me back through the years. There I stood once again before my mother's middle dresser drawer, happily extracting one of her bras to take away for my own use while the family was away for the day. It was a heavy duty, industrial strength garment, providing the kind of the support needed by Carrie Nation as she wielded her massive ax against a solid mahogany bar. More

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