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It wasn’t a query.“Jeez, my head hurts,” Tabatha muttered. “Remind me not to eavesdrop on the Queen and her Praetor anymore.”“You got that right,” Tia and Tara said in unison.“I wonder what it meant,” Annalisa mused, “some answers will come sooner?”“No idea,” Tabatha replied. “And I’m sure I don’t want to know.”Tanya grunted as she changed positions once again, relieving another part of her anatomy that she had been resting on. “God, Frank, shoot me or something. I really hate these rail cars. I have never been so shaken up and bounced around in all my life. Do you think stagecoaches in the Old West were this awful?”“Probably,” Frank replied, grimacing as he shifted from his right rump to his left. “But at least, stagecoaches had padded seats. These fucking boards are just crude.”They both looked over – glared at – their only son, Frank Jr., who was idly sleeping through most of this disagreeable trip. His wife, Ivory, one of Amber and Roland Cutberg’s daughters, cradled his head in. I stood behind her while she bent over and reached her calves. I was in just the right place to stare at her perfect slit and perfect little puckered asshole. I even pushed against her– just to see what would happen. What happened was that she screeched and spun around.”“She was acting on instinct and thought someone– or something– was behind her. She turned swinging her hand, open palmed, as if she were going to really smack someone. I knew she couldn’t hurt me. I knew that her hand would go right through my head, but I still automatically raised my hand to stop her. As soon as our hands touched, I became visible. That’s when she really started screaming. I immediately tapped the crystal and returned to the dinner theater.”“About five minutes after that, two uniformed policemen and a tough-looking man in a trench coat walked up to our table at the theater. They said they needed to talk to me so I accompanied them out into the lobby. Deb trailed along after us.”“As soon as we got.
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