Lord, he was handsome! "Who can we make happy?" The little wife, Stan," she heard her boisterous husband say, using their neighbor's first name as if ...hey'd known him for years, and adding a gruff little laugh. "Poor kid needs some foot-wear... and why not, on the end of those legs, eh?"Beth cringed with embarrassment as Stan drew up his stool, still smiling toward her husband, an obvious starchiness in the expression. Oh, why didn't that asshole keep his big, blowhard mouth shut? She crossed. It was a stupid thing to do, but he had known when I cracked. I realized I hadn’t been in the house. I had been walking. I looked at my phone.I went to our cheap, notebook computer. Stace used it for school. The battery had died, but the power cord still worked. I looked up spying on cell phones. The old phones, like mine, could be set to listen even when folded and sleeping. What bum could afford that kind of surveillance? The kind that could afford to give away heroin, the answer came to me.. More

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