”Suddenly Jennifer froze in her seat. “Shit! The keys are in my bag. I’m locked out.” Then she burst into nervous laughter. “I’m so sorry,...George. You’ll have to take me back to the hotel.”During the short drive back to the Esplanade, Jennifer was in turmoil. She glanced sideways at the tall, dark man, older than her, that leisurely and relaxed, in effortless control, moved his large Mercedes through the morning traffic. He so obviously felt no further need to talk. Could he possibly desire. Trink grabbed Keebler by the back of his collar, holding him down as his wings still pumped furiously. "Got an angry husband after you? boy?" snorted Trink. Gasping out breathlessly, his eyes almost starting out of his head, "Bitsy and the witch are fighting in the clearing at oak house, I was going to visit, the witch had Bitsy by the hair, her face was bleeding." rambled Keebler, trying to breath and talk at the same time. Everyone stood up at once, heading towards the window, the old woman. More

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