Garret was usually pretty good about making sure he was not the first one to go down. But perhaps every dog has his day. I know, wrong context.“Joe,...give me a hand.” Some snickering, a few grunts and then nothing. The voices faded beyond the door, suddenly muted followed by a click. I wondered what had happened and what they did with Joe.A few minutes went by before I cracked my door for a better listen. Silence. There was no way these drunks could be that quiet and no way they all passed out. By prearrangement, I wore the uniform. White, short sleeve blouse, red school skirt, white bra and panties, white socks and sneakers. For effect, I brought along a couple of schoolbooks. It's a nice touch and adds to the believable innocence factor.When we arrived I was escorted to Jose's 37th floor penthouse. Kiss, kiss. He introduced me to his friend, who I was told was called Uncle. Yeah right. He, he, he.I looked around and the place was beautifully furnished. In the middle of the living. More

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