After, Anna took a shower and I lay on the bed wishing that what had just happened hadn’t. It was great to be with her again and I knew as soon as I saw her on the steps that I was still in love. I just didn’t know if I wanted to worry about a relationship with her at a time when people with bad intentions were coming after me.
The shower cut off and a moment later Anna walked into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her middle. She looked damn good.
“I see you still keep your water heater turned down low. That shower was freezing.”
“It’s New Orleans, when would I ever need to take a hot shower?”
“You’re a hypocrite. You’ll drink hot café au lait but you insist on freezing all of your guests with cold showers.”
“It’s not hypocrisy, it’s tradition.”
Anna took the towel off of her body, wrapped it around her hair and sat down on the bed. “My prior opinion still stands, you’re a goober.”
“And you’re naked, which is making it hard for me to concentrate.”
“Fine.”
She walked over to the dresser at the end of the bed, squatted down to the bottom drawer and slid it open. I could only see the top of her head from where I was but I knew what she was after and her “Aha!” confirmed it.
When we were together my bottom dresser drawer had always held clothes for her to use when she stayed over. Likewise, her bottom dresser drawer had been for me. She stood up with a pair of her old shorts and a LSU t-shirt.
She put them on and turned around, “I knew that deep down you were a romantic.”
“Sometimes it’s just hard to let things go. Plus, that’s my favorite t-shirt.”
“I’m touched, honestly.” She crawled onto the bed and kissed me. “Now who’s the naked one?”
I leaned over the edge of the bed and picked up my boxers. After I had gotten them on, Anna looked me in the eye.
“Now, tell me about this case that has you so upset that you ride your bike and don’t take the time to wash it afterwards like you usually do.”
For the second time that day I gave Anna a case synopsis. Instead of starting at the beginning as I had earlier I just updated her with what happened after I left her office.
“Well, at least you know that Masterson isn’t totally bullshitting you,” she remarked after I had finished.
“What do you mean?”
“His message to you about Siebenkäs. Apparently, the Siebenkäs Group is still up and running somewhere. I mean if you turn on an intercom in their old building and hear voices, it’s probably safe to say you were tied into their new building, right? So maybe he’s on the run from them and that’s why he needs your help.”
“But if he needs my help why would he hit me in the stomach? That’s no way to build trust in a relationship. Plus, he told me the next time he saw me he would destroy me.”
“Can you call him? He might really need help. Maybe he’s going through some sort of mental issue; a bi-polar thing that makes him occasionally violent.”
“Can’t call him. I don’t have his number. His sister’s my only contact but I’m not so sure I should trust her now. She’s either a good actor or she honestly doesn’t know what’s going on. Until I find out more – specifically what part she’s playing in this – I don’t want to involve her.”
“So, what’s your plan then?”
This was where I could get in trouble, and where I could get Anna into trouble right along with me. I knew I wanted to break into some houses and do some snooping around, but if I told Anna and then got caught by a random police patrol she would be in a tight spot. I put my hand up to my forehead and ran my palm across it in slow circles.
“Don’t ever play poker, Hi.”
“Why not?”
“Every time something is troubling you, you play with your head like that. Now, tell me, what’s your plan and why am I not going to like it?”
There was nothing to do but tell her, so I did. Anna’s dad had been a Merchant Marine and she could cuss as well as him, so I expected a tongue lashing that would make any sailor blush. Instead, all I got was, “Okay, but if you’re going to have me breaking into houses, I gotta eat first.”
On the way to the Garden District we stopped at Lucy’s Retired Surfer’s Bar and Restaurant. The place looked like a dive but the food was simple, good and cheap. Because during lunch and the early part of dinner the place was usually more empty than full, Lucy’s had been a haunt of ours when we were together and needed someplace quiet to go. The restaurant turned into a raucous bar at night but thankfully it was early enough that the vibe was still low key.
We grabbed a booth and ordered – tuna salad for her and ceviche fish tacos for me – and after the waitress brought our food we discussed our plans for the night. Anna had agreed that the best thing to do would be to try Fasol’s house first, seeing as how he was dead and his house would most likely be empty. Later we could stake out Masterson’s place and make sure he wasn’t there before we broke in.
Anna came up with another idea, too: Go talk to Alexander D’Ercole to see what was going on. I hadn’t considered talking to D’Ercole because I didn’t want anyone involved with the case to know that I was interested in them as potential suspects. When I told Anna about my hesitation she didn’t mince words. Her reasoning was they were fucking with me so I should fuck with them.
After rethinking it I realized it was a good idea. Maybe if I put some pressure on the players they would get sloppy and give me the break that I needed. I had one more idea to add.
“What about Andrej Hasslin? Shouldn’t we bug him, too?”
This idea Anna did shoot down, “Huh, uh. Leave Hasslin out of it until you’ve got more info. If he’s still the owner of Siebenkäs he probably has more lawyers, and more money to throw at them, than you do.”
I had to agree, I had no lawyer and very little money.
“Besides,” Anna continued, “if he is involved in something illegal, the more you get on him, the harder he’ll fall.”
Oh, how I loved this woman. Here we were prepping ourselves for full-bore criminal activity and she was being optimistic. I wanted to kiss her but, of course, the waitress showed up with our check. We paid the bill and made our way to Anna’s car. On the drive to D’Ercole’s we hashed out some basic signals and a line of questioning that had Anna taking the lead. I had a PI identification card but our hope was that D’Ercole would feel more pressure to cooperate if a real, live NOPD detective was asking him most of the questions.
We pulled up to D’Ercole’s at dusk and could see lights on in every room.
“Looks like he’s getting ready to have a party.”
Anna scanned the street warily, as if there were people hiding, waiting to jump out and yell surprise. “Let’s hope not. C’mon.”
We walked up to the front steps and Anna pushed the doorbell while I stood on the bottom step. Not only did this give me a view of both corners of the house, in case someone left that way, but our positioning – with Anna appearing taller and larger to whomever answered the door – would make it appear as if she was in charge.
Subconsciously, when D’Ercole saw us, he would take note that I was in the rear and that my head was lower than Anna’s. It was a subtle mind game but essential to D’Ercole not having too many questions about who I was.
We didn’t have to wait long before we heard footsteps approach the door from inside the house. There was a brief glimpse of a face peering out of one of the side lights and a moment later the door opened.
Anna spoke before D’Ercole, in an attempt to make him believe we were in charge, before he could figure out that we had no authority to be here. “Mr. Alexander D’Ercole?”
Because I had D’Ercole’s picture I didn’t expect to be shocked by his hair, but I was. It was nicely cut and styled but, like the picture had shown, totally white. Outside of white tigers in Vegas and lab rats in college I had never seen anything like it.
Also, unlike the picture, D’Ercole looked as if he was now old enough to have the white hair. He had deep lines around his eyes and mouth and his skin was more pale.
“Dr. D’Ercole, yes.” He responded, with an obvious emphasis on the doctor.
“Dr. D’Ercole, Anna corrected herself. “I’m Detective Sergeant Alvarez with the New Orleans police department and this is my partner, Edward Fisk. We were wondering if we could come inside and ask you a few questions regarding Clayton Masterson and your relationship with him.”
“Sure… I… Is something wrong? Did something happen to Clay?”
“Sir, it would be more comfortable for everyone involved if we could come inside and speak to you.” Anna glanced around surreptitiously, as if D’Ercole’s neighbors were peering out of their curtains and gathering on the sidewalk in front of his house. “Much more discreet…”
“Of course.”
As D’Ercole had been speaking I picked up on something that I hoped Anna had already figured out: he was nervous about something or someone. His eyes kept darting around; looking toward the street, now left, now right. He was on high alert.
D’Ercole let us inside and showed us to a small sitting room to the left of the front door. He indicated a couch that looked as old as white thread and twice as fragile and Anna and I sat down. In addition to being so tiny that Anna and I were rubbing elbows, the couch was as uncomfortable as sin. Before D’Ercole could get into his own chair – leather, heavily padded, definitely a better seating choice – Anna was at him again with questions.
“How well did you know Clayton Masterson, Dr. D’Ercole?”
“Pretty well. We’re members of the same club and we get together for a round of golf or dinner probably once a month.”
“When’s the last time you spoke with him?”
D’Ercole blew out a breath as he considered the question. “It’s been at least three months. Aside from the club we don’t really run in the same social circles. Playing a round of golf together was a way to stay in touch and keep each other up to date on our practices but even that was hard to do at times.”
“What type of doctor are you?”
“I’m a plastic surgeon.”
“We understand Masterson was a doctor also, had he expressed any interest in changing his medical focus?”
“No, not that I’m aware… Why do you keep referring to Clay in the past tense, detective?”
Anna reached up and pretended to scratch her right ear. It was one of the signals we had worked out and I took over. “Dr. Masterson’s sister contacted us. She hasn’t heard from him in a few days and is understandably concerned. Are you positive he hasn’t contacted you? If he has, now would be the time to tell us.”
“Like I said, it’s been months.”
I was getting frustrated with Alexander D’Ercole. When he opened the door I was positive that he knew something, now he was clamming up. I decided he needed a shock to his system. “Where were you when Richard Fasol was in Houston murdering Kenneth Stevens?”
I could feel Anna tense up and I saw her quickly glance my way. I ignored her as D’Ercole answered.
“I was here, in the city. My practice was keeping me busy at the time. Richard actually asked me to go with him on that trip. Claimed he had some political business to take care of. If I had known it meant murder…”
D’Ercole lowered his eyes and looked at the floor. If I had been less experienced at questioning people I would think that he was expressing sorrow about Fasol’s downfall or Stevens’ death. As it was, I just wanted to punch him in the face. Looking at the floor during questioning was one of the oldest tricks in the book: now we couldn’t read his eyes to see if he was lying. I was about to ask another question when Anna stepped in.
“Dr. D’Ercole, did you know Kenneth Stevens?”
D’Ercole raised his eyes but didn’t glance my way, “No. Of course, I had heard his name around town and through some of my clients, but I had never met him.”
Anna flipped through her notebook as if she was making sure she hadn’t missed anything. We had established this as code for the end of the questions but I wasn’t ready to go. If I had been ready I would have checked my watch but I didn’t do that, I just stared at D’Ercole without saying anything. Anna continued flipping through her notebook as the silence stretched out.
Normally, once the tension in a room increased, a person being questioned will ask if there was anything else or look at both interviewers questioningly. D’Ercole didn’t do that though. He just kept looking at Anna, acting as if I wasn’t in the room. Finally Anna got fed up with me and stood to leave. As she did I caught a faint smile playing around the corners of D’Ercole’s mouth. Asshole.
“Unfortunately,” Anna said as she walked toward the door, “I’ve run out of business cards but if you think of anything else regarding Dr. Masterson or Richard Fasol you can call NOPD headquarters and ask for me. Just tell whoever answers the phone that you need to speak with Detective Alvarez and they’ll find me. Okay?”
D’Ercole nodded, still looking at Anna. Something was going on here but I didn’t know what. D’Ercole’s attitude toward me had shifted in some subtle way. Since I had been out of the police department I had lost much of my ability to read people but I didn’t need any skill to see how blatant he was being right now. I hoped Anna was noticing D’Ercole’s demeanor and coming up with a reason as to why it changed.
D’Ercole showed us out and closed the door behind us. I had the distinct feeling that he was watching us walk to the car but I fought the urge to turn around. It would serve no purpose but to make D’Ercole think I was nervous about him. I was but I didn’t want him to know it.
Anna started the car up and drove around the corner before she spoke, “Something was up with him. He didn’t like you being there.”
“I’m glad you noticed but why did you want to leave without asking more questions?”
“He was done answering our questions truthfully. That was weird though.”
“Speaking of weird: did you see his hair? I thought his eyes would be pink.”
Anna didn’t bother encouraging me. “It was like he didn’t need to see you anymore; like he recognized you but didn’t want you to get a good look at him. In your running around have you bumped into him before?”
I thought back over the last two days, beginning with when I got the call from Sheila Dobbs. I couldn’t remember seeing D’Ercole anywhere but of course that didn’t mean he hadn’t seen me. I expressed as much to Anna.
“It still doesn’t make sense. He knew you, or at least knew who you were, I’m sure of it. Maybe Masterson told him about you?”
“Then why not just say that he knew me? If you were concerned about your friend wouldn’t you tell the police?
“No, I don’t think Masterson told him about me. If Masterson wanted D’Ercole to contact me then I wouldn’t have gotten the call from Sheila.” I sighed, “This shit is beginning to get me down.”
Anna glanced at me and chuckled. “Breaking into some houses will cheer you up.”
A minute or so later we found Fasol’s house on Coliseum. Anna kept driving past without slowing. She drove on Coliseum for another block and then made a right. Our plan was to get two blocks behind Fasol’s house and walk up. If something happened at the house we would split up and make our way back to the car separately.
Anna parked and we got out of the car. She came around to me and reached for my hand. Her hand was soft and nice to hold but in this case it was another part of our ploy. We needed to look like we were young and in love; and hopefully we were dressed well enough to look like a couple from the neighborhood out for an after dinner stroll.
After a five minute walk we reached Fasol’s. We walked by the front to first make sure no one was home. Unlike D’Ercole’s house, Fasol’s windows were devoid of light and the rapidly darkening evening sky would make it even darker inside. As we continued around to the side of the house we checked the street and sidewalk for cars and pedestrians and then quickly pushed through the high hedge of Arborvitae that surrounded the back yard of the property. I went first, slipping between two bushes, and a second later felt a pressure and a sting on my arm. There was a noise like a bug zapper and I ground out “shit” between clenched teeth.
Anna giggled behind me, “I guess his electric fence is still working.”
My arm was numb. “Next time you go first.”
There were two thin wires for the electric fence. The first was, as I had discovered, at the height of my bicep. The second was at a level just above my knees. By stepping on the lower wire, and bending down under the higher, I was able to cross over into the yard. I offered to step on the low wire for Anna but she refused. “You’ll probably let it go so that it hits me between my legs.”
The thought never even crossed my mind and I told Anna as much.
We walked across the small back yard and stepped onto Fasol’s deck. For a minute or so we stood there and peered through the windows and into the house, letting our eyes get accustomed to the dark and to be certain no one was sitting inside with the lights off. I knocked on the back door and when there was no response from within, I went to work on the lock while Anna kept watch. Forty-five seconds of lock-picking later and we were in.
We found ourselves in a wide kitchen that took up the entire rear of the house. In the gathering gloom I could make out a spiral staircase to the left, and to the right was a sitting area with a curved couch and a TV. From the outside the house was huge and we were expecting it to have lots of small rooms like many older New Orleans homes but from the appearance of the kitchen we seemed to have caught a break. The house was obviously remodeled and hopefully that trend had continued throughout the house, with Fasol breaking up smaller rooms into fewer large ones.
After a cursory glance around the kitchen I walked through an archway that lead toward the front of the house and went up the front stairs. Anna followed me forward but stayed on the lower level.
On the upstairs landing I groped around on the walls for a light switch and eventually my hand found one. I turned it on and light flooded the hallway. Regular lamp light looked less suspicious than flashlight beams and I was hoping that the neighbors would just think there was a timer.
Looking down the hallway, I could see three doors on the left and one on the right. I guessed that the master suite would be the single right hand door, as it seemed more private, and decided to save it for last.
The first room I came to on the left was a bedroom. There was enough light coming in from the hallway for me to see that it still had furniture and the bed was neatly made. The section of the room closest to the door was made up as a small sitting area with a couple of chairs and a coffee table. In the far right corner was a closed door. As I entered the room I reached for the light switch and turned on the light. There was a ceiling fan and it began to spin lazily as I walked further in.
Apparently, the house was either for sale fully furnished or it still belonged to Fasol’s estate. A quick check of the dresser told me that, if the house was still in Fasol’s estate, this was a guest bedroom; the dresser was empty. I walked across the room and opened the door in the corner. Looking inside I saw a bathroom that was bigger than my dining room and kitchen combined. From where I stood there were two more doors visible. The one to my right was open and I could see the upstairs hallway through it. The other was directly across from me and was closed. I walked across the bathroom, turning on another light switch, and opened the door. Beyond was another bedroom that mirrored the first.
I once again turned on the light and checked the dresser in this room but it too was empty. When I walked out the door, I was facing a hallway that connected to the main hall at a ninety-degree angle. This narrower hall led across half of the back of the house and at the end of it I could see the railing for the spiral staircase that led to the kitchen. About halfway down the hall’s length I could see a closed door. I walked down to the doorway, opened it and peered in. With the help of the hall light I could see a huge room that contained a huge bed; Fasol’s bed. Like I had thought at first, this was the master suite. I closed the door and went back toward the front steps and the other entrance.
The door off the hallway opened on a sitting room that contained the same type of furniture as the guest rooms across the hall. Inside, to my left, I could see an open door and I headed that way.
I again felt around for a light switch and this time, when I turned the light on, I was in Fasol’s bedroom. In addition to the bed that I had already seen, there was yet another sitting area with the same type of setup as the area I had seen directly off the hall. This guy must have gotten a bulk discount on these cheap-ass chairs.
Along the wall that held the door to the sitting room I could see a set of double doors and, further down, an open doorway. I went to the open doorway first and discovered it was a bathroom. On the other side of the bathroom I saw another door and tried it, finding it locked. Oddly, the knob was such that in order to be unlocked it needed a key.
I backtracked to the double doors and opened them. A light turned on in the room beyond and I flinched before I realized that the light was tied into a sensor in the doors. I closed the doors to test my theory and was proved correct when the light went out.
When the doors were reopened, and the light was back on, I could see a walk-in closet with a dressing table in the middle and in the far right corner up near the ceiling, a wall-mounted flat screen TV. Arranged around the room were alternating sections of hanging clothing and drawers. This closet, while not as big as the bathroom across the hall, was still big enough for me to put my kitchen inside of and still have room for all of my clothes.
Directly ahead of me, on the other side of the dressing table, I saw another pair of doors. From where I stood I could see that the knobs on these, like the bathroom knob I had encountered, would also need keys to unlock. That looked like the direction I wanted to go. I had been thinking that Fasol had an office up here, possibly for things he felt were more dear to him, and so far I was disappointed at only finding bedrooms. I was hoping that this would be the office.
I ignored the thousand dollar suits and five-hundred dollar shoes and walked around to the opposite side of the table. The doors were locked, which was a good sign. I pulled out my lock picks and squatted down to get a better angle on the lock mechanism. While I was concentrating I heard Anna’s footsteps come up behind me. She waited until I had gotten the doors open before she spoke, “Find anything?”
“Not yet, but it’s looking up. What about you?”
“Nothing. This house is impressive but it’s more like a model home than anything. Everything is so neat and tidy. He even has fake books on the bookshelf in his office. I can’t imagine Fasol spent a lot of time here.”
When I opened the second set of doors no lights had come on so I reached around the jamb and felt for a light switch. When the overhead light revealed the room to us I turned to Anna. “Looks like he definitely spent time in here, though.”
“Definitely.”
Directly in front of us were a pair of chairs that faced to the right. They had been placed in front of a large, dark, wood desk. Behind the desk was a matching dark leather executive’s chair and behind that, against the far right wall, was a built in bookshelf. There was no doubt most of the books on this unit were real. Built in lighting revealed several empty spaces on the shelves and there were several books laying down and facing the wrong way, with their pages toward us.
To our left was a door set into the same wall the double doors were on. This side of the knob had a thumb turn for convenience. As Anna started in that direction I let her know that it led to the bathroom. The opposite wall had four windows evenly spaced along it’s length, each with a closed mini-blind blocking the outside world from view.
The rest of the space was taken up by another sitting area with the requisite couch, coffee table and TV but this time the furniture was different. It wasn’t as formal as the furniture in the other sitting areas I had come across. The couch was worn and dirty with frayed seams in places and judging by the dip in the middle of the cushions, the springs were shot. Scattered haphazardly on the table and around the room were stacks of books, magazines and papers, dirty dishes, fast food bags and snack wrappers.
Without a word to each other we both ignored the filth in the rest of the room and walked around behind the desk. I told Anna I would take the desk and she could tackle the bookshelf.
As I knelt down behind the desk I quickly tried to open all of the drawers, only to find them locked. I went to work picking the lock on the middle drawer, above the kneehole. My hope was that once I had it unlocked it would release the other drawers and allow me access. Once the drawer was open it didn’t release any others but I didn’t lose hope. If Fasol was as paranoid as most of the wealthy who lived in New Orleans, there was a chance this desk was custom built. That meant it could have all types of hidden drawers and cubbyholes that I would only be able to find and open by being patient.
I pulled the middle drawer out and set it on the floor. I was looking at and feeling the underside of the desk when Anna got my attention. She had pulled a section of fake books off the bookshelf and revealed a wall safe. When I stood up and went to where she stood she was peering inside of it.
“The books weren’t set back in place very good and the safe was unlocked. It’s empty. What do you think that means?”
“It may mean we’re too late,” I said to her. “Keep looking.”
I went back to the desk and began poking and prodding every suspicious protuberance. I was starting to get fed up when I pushed on a knot and heard a faint click. I shined my flashlight along the underside of the desk but didn’t notice any open panels. I didn’t want to come out from under the desk, not when I had obviously found something, so I pretended not to hear Anna when she called my name. So, she kicked me.
“Ow! What?”
“I was looking through this drawer,” She indicated a still open hanging file drawer, “when I heard a click. I looked up and this panel,” She pointed to a section of trim midway up the side of the bookshelf, “had popped open. I figured you’d want to reach inside first.”
I did, but after my experience with the electric fence I had some understandable trepidation. Not wanting Anna to think I was chicken, I boldly thrust my hand inside; after I had turned my head away and closed my eyes.
I didn’t get shocked and no spring loaded blade chopped off my hand so I felt around. The only thing I could feel were some pieces of paper and I pulled them out. I walked over to the desk and spread the papers out.
There were six pages total, all standard eight and-a-half by eleven printer paper, and each page held four check images. Each check was made out to The Siebenkäs Group and each was for ten thousand dollars.
I whistled, “Close to a quarter million dollars paid to Siebenkäs over the course of…” I checked the dates on the checks, “…over the course of a year and a half.”
I scanned back through the checks reading the memo lines. “Each one is for “Research.”
Anna leaned in closer to look, “That’s what they say but look at the dates. Fasol wasn’t making a contribution to research. He was making payments on something.”
I paid closer attention to the dates and it seemed Anna was right. On three of the pages the checks were dated at two week intervals. However, the rest of the checks all shared the same date, albeit in different months. It appeared as if Fasol had made double payments for six months in order to catch up to a schedule, but afterward he had indeed made regular monthly payments.
“Did you find anything else?” I asked as I folded the papers and stuffed them into my pocket.
“No. This place was either already searched by someone or Fasol cleaned up after himself before he went to Houston.”
Although I tended to agree with Anna’s assessment and had a sinking feeling we weren’t going to find anything else I wanted to spend more time in the house. I had an almost overwhelming desire to look for more hidden panels but at the same time I could feel time slipping away from us. We had already been here too long and I didn’t want to chance another encounter like the one I had experienced while leaving the Siebenkäs building.
I put the drawer back in the desk and told Anna we should go. At the door to the office Anna reached out to turn off the light and I told her to leave it on.
“If somebody from Siebenkäs drives by and sees it it’ll give them something to think about.”
I led the way out of the office, through the closet, around the bed and to the door that opened into the back hallway. From there we took the spiral stairs down and into the kitchen. We hadn’t turned the lights on in the kitchen so we stood in the dark, looking into the backyard to make sure no one had crept up on us while we were upstairs. The yard was clear and we left the house, relocking the door behind us.
This time, Anna went through the hedge first, pausing momentarily while a car drove down the street. As soon as it was gone she disappeared between the bushes and I followed, this time avoiding a shock. Back on the sidewalk we again held hands as we made our way back to the car.
The walk to the car seemed to take forever and I kept expecting to see a black Chevy, tires squealing and engine growling, turn the corner ahead of us. Thankfully, the only threat we faced was a car full of teenagers who yelled “Kiss her! Kiss her!” at us as they drove by. I obliged them and we could hear their cheers as they continued driving down the block.
Once back in the car Anna asked if I still wanted to go to Masterson’s or if I wanted to wait until tomorrow. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was nine-thirty.
“If you don’t have any objections I’d like to knock out Masterson’s tonight. Plus, seeing as how he’s still alive maybe we can catch him at home.”
“The only objection I have is that I have a job to go to in the morning. Why don’t we knock off for tonight and swing by my place so I can get some clothes? When I go in tomorrow I can request the rest of the week off. It’ll give us some time to come up with a better plan of attack.”
I felt like we were on a roll tonight and I wanted to move. Hell, more than that, I needed to move. If someone had been in Fasol’s house before us and cleaned out his safe I wanted to get to Masterson’s right this minute. Especially if Masterson was the someone. But, I also wanted Anna’s help and I realized she was right: I needed to take my time and figure this out. I didn’t want any mistakes to get in the way of what needed to be done.
Reluctantly, I agreed with Anna and we drove to her place for clothes and then back to mine for the night.
