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We walked hand in hand for the half block from the car to restaurant and talked about the city and places we like to go. Once again I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of things that we had in common. We liked most of the same places and things in town.There was a few minute wait to be seated in the small Mexican restaurant, but that wasn't unusual. We waited by the bar and each had a frozen margarita while we waited to be seated."What have you got going on this weekend?" Beth asked me."The only thing I have planned is going to the Maryland vs. Georgia Tech basketball game on Saturday afternoon." You lucky bastard. That's going to be a great game." Do you want to go with me? My friend Brian, the guy that I share the season tickets with, is going out of town on business this weekend and can't come," I replied."Are you serious? I would love to go with you. I'm not poaching on your time with the guys am I? I wouldn't want your friends to be mad at you for taking me rather than one. . for now." No, Detective, you are not going to let us go." What?" You came to our home and hauled us down here. Now you're going to arrange to take us back home." I emphasized 'back home' and he gave me a smirky smile."Okay, Mr. Turner. Detective Johnson will take you and your wife home. Please wait downstairs by the front door. He'll be right there."I went downstairs and waited near the door, keeping out of the way of people coming and going. It struck me as odd how many people came through a police station at that time of night; guess that showed what a sheltered life I'd led!When I spotted Johnson and Pam coming toward me, I noticed immediately that she had been crying; her face was wet, her eyes were swollen and she kept a tissue dabbing at her tears. She was huddled into a shell, as if trying to curl herself into a protective ball. She kept her eyes on the floor, never looking up at me. That started a new round of questions soaring through my mind: who, or what, were the tears.
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"You're gonna have to get a whole lot rougher than that, boy, to prove to me you have what it takes to be the boss."Now Marty put his large hands around her slender neck. Squeezing, he snarled, "I could turn out your lights so easy, cunt. You know that, don't you?"Ron couldn't take it anymore, shouting, "Enough is enough, Marty! Back off my sister. Sure, she's a whore. But you might kill her if you don't leave her alone."Sally, though, didn't appreciate Ron's concern. "Mind your own business. This is between me and Marty!"Then something struck her as amusing, as she interrupted herself with a smirk."That is," she told her brother, "unless you stop acting like such a sissy, Ronnie, and decide to pitch in and help your cousin here put me in my place. Now there's something I could understand. Maybe both of you together might be a match for me."Ron gulped, "Jesus, Sis, do you know what you're asking for?" Absolutely!" Sally said. "The only problem is whether you two turkeys have enough.

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