Around forty years old, probably shorter and more solidly built, although you couldn’t really tell because he was sitting in a well padded black swi...el chair. He was wearing an impeccably tailored dark blue suit, white shirt, maroon tie. His hands rested comfortably on each arm of the chair. Palms down. Fingers relaxed.The camera angle was from one side of the desk, and the man had swiveled to face it. He was looking directly into the lens, directly at Ross, and he was smiling. As well he. Allen’s room upstairs. ‘I could turn down the AC if you’d like,’ Bianca volunteered. Marsha nodded and smiled. The Amazonian blonde didn’t skip a beat as she turned from the room. Neither did Marsha. She crossed the space between them with cat like grace, the pants sliding down her hips with each swaying motion. ‘Now Brian,’ Marsha said, knowing her heated twat was almost exposed. She stopped an arm’s length from the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I know he’s not here. I know he hasn’t. More

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