She had no doubt that they were feds of some sort. But were they FBI? So many questions, so few answers. "What next?" she asked aloud. Rachel Jones sh...ok her head and tried to concentrate of the problems they faced.She was reminded of the upper management at Cheswick and they way the department heads related to the female employees. Their mouths said one thing and their eyes said something else. They acted ever so helpful. Yet, for some reason there never seemed to be any action to back up. “I can’t tell you all my secrets dear, or else I would have to kill you.” Mark said while using a terrible Russian accent, which made his wife chuckle around a mouthful of pie.Mark picked up the newspaper and pretended to read it as he watched his still sexy wife devour the slice of pie and quickly cut a second piece. She was a natural beauty who took care of her body and she had passed on her superior genes to her daughter Sarah. When Sophia finished the second piece, Mark put the paper down. What time will you pick me up?"That got Lenny's attention when he heard something about someone picking up Jeannie. "That'll be fine. I'll see you around five." Jeannie walked back into the kitchen and put the phone back on the counter. She walked over and got the coffee pot and poured Lenny more coffee. "Did you get enough to eat this morning?" Yes, I sure did. That was good. That will last me most of the day." Jeannie picked up the plates and put them in the sink as Lenny sipped his coffee. Even he stopped talking when this manna from heaven appeared before us. The maid with the cast in her eye did the serving, and I was intrigued to see how, with her wandering eyeball, she managed to get the food from tureen onto plate without spillage. I surmised that she must 'aim off' to allow for drift, as do the sharpshooters of the 95th Rifles.The Rector always held forth, at considerable length, on some topic close to his heart when at table, seldom troubling to ask me of my opinions on.
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