If the operator felt anything emotionally about these calls, she didn’t let it through on the phone. “Is the shooter still present?” she asked.“I’m the shooter. I won’t leave.”“Please stay on the line.”“I’m sorry; I need to make a few more calls.” I hung up, which was probably a crime, but I really didn’t care. I called John Steiner. As expected, he told me to be cooperative but to keep my mouth shut until he got there. No surprise there. I hung up on my long-time attorney, with the realization I needed him now more than ever.I went back out to the kitchen. Hamilton was still lying there, surrounded by a pool of blood. Part of me was thinking I should have done this years ago. Part of me was thinking I should have drowned him at birth. Most of all I was just saddened by the waste of it all. Now my family was completely and utterly destroyed. There was no going back from this, even though I had to do it. He was insane. He would have killed my wife and my son, and then tried for me. It. For heat there was, undoubtedly. Stan dropped Denise off at her house and waited to be sure she got indoors safely, and then he drove on. As soon as Denise was out of sight he felt Anne’s hand on his thigh, heightening his own response. It was difficult to drive with her hand there and a burgeoning erection, plus whenever he had to change gear Anne had to take her hand away again, but by the time they arrived at Anne’s house he was ready to burst. Anne was aroused too. She felt her lower lips sliding across one another as she squirmed in her seat, her hand sliding up and down Stan’s thigh as he drove whenever she could lay it there. ‘What’s come over me?’ she wondered. This was more, much more than the horniness she’d felt after last week’s dance. She wanted Stan inside her, hard, fast and soon. Stan parked the car and undid his seatbelt. Anne removed hers at the same time and in a second they were in each others’ arms, kissing passionately, deeply. For a few minutes they made out.
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