She sensed the shock of her co-workers as they saw her. But Abby didn’t really care. She just wanted to get through the day and return to the haven of her house, THEIR home. Once home, she didn’t answer the phone or communicate with the outside world. She crawled into bed in one of Ken’s shirts and mindlessly watched tv or slept. She could sleep for hours, days. She bought stacks of novels from Amazon.Com and read them voraciously. She resisted the efforts of her colleagues to get her out of the house. She declined invitations to dinners or lunches. She always had a reason she couldn’t attend a party or gathering. For her family, living far away, she made up a social life full of close and caring friends. They had no idea of her real life, her real mindset. Grief was numbing. Everything reminded her of Ken. So she kept her eyes straight ahead, as if wearing blinders, and moved along with the current of her days. Then she found the computer. She found people who wanted to share ideas. Carr a man in his middle fifties. There was actually a cigar in the ashtray in front of him, and his shabby office looked like something right out a Dashell Hammet novel. I thought, this guy only needed a trench coat to give Bogie a run for his money."And that's it then?" said Mr. Carr."Yeah, pretty much. I just got in yesterday and caught them last night. There is definitely something going on, and I need the proof."So whaddya think? Can you do it?" I said."Sure, no problem," he said. "With what you've given me, the pics and the rest, it'll be easy. It'd be easy for you too if you wanted to do it yourself." I'm just afraid I'd screw up, you know, maybe give the guy a size eight suppository and get my ass thrown in jail. I don't want to give either of 'em the satisfaction of seeing me behind bars." So that is indeed it then. We'll be on the job immediately. I will be planting the devices in the house today while she's at work," said Mr. Carr."Good," I said. We shook hands, and I went.
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