Sam had no kids, but he liked baseball. Or so he said.I wondered whether he was some perv looking to perv up with some of theboys.I was almost right.H... did want to perv up.But it was with me.He had seen me in the neighborhood and couldn't get the image of me, instockings and garters, sucking his cock, out of his mind.We got to know each other slowly.One Wednesday night two months after we met, when Martha was gone, Igot a babysitter and went to Sam's house for a few beers.We got to talking. “Have they already hurt you? On any occasion in the past?”“No, nothing like that,” Tiff sounded empty, hurt, unsure, lost, vulnerable.“Well, Tiff, at sixteen you can leave home. If you were fifteen, it’d be go home or go into care.”The last word, ‘care’, sounded like the worst word in the world.The other policeman, who’d been watching Charlie and me as much as he’d been watching Tiff, stepped back. “I’ll radio in,” he said softly, and then he turned and walked quietly down the empty corridor,. More

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