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He wallowed in a perception of emptiness. Then he considered thatthey were gone, never to be seen again, and a sense of sadness pervadedhim.He pulled himself from the mirror and retrieved a pair of his briefsfrom the dresser. He pulled them onto his waist and they promptly fellto his ankles. "Well that worked just fine." His mellifluous voicestartled him yet again. It was going to take some getting used to.He went to the bed and viewed the undergarments. He shook off theembarrassment and grasped the beige cotton panties. He slipped intothem. They fit just fine. He picked up the matching bra and examined it. He ignored the loomingindignity and brought it up to his chest. He captured a breast in eachcup and secured the clasp with some difficulty. He took a few steps andimmediately appreciated the way the bra held everything in place,largely curtailing the annoying movements.He tried to get into a pair of his jeans, but they were way too large.So were the flannel shirt and sneakers. His. He made a mental list of every question that he needed an answer to. He knew that he would need help to sort this through, but he knew that he had to stay away from the police station now. Ed felt the water getting too cold and finished washing. As he got out of the tub an idea struck him. He dried himself and got dressed and went into the kitchen."Betty, I have to have some help on this," Ed said as he walked into the kitchen. "Would you have any objection to me telling this story to a friend of mine that could help us? There's an investigative reporter that I used to help when I was on the force. He also helped me several times. He's a real straight shooter and I don't think he'll hurt us."Betty told him that she would do whatever he said. She told him that she wanted this all to be over. Ed could tell that she was still unsure if she was still a suspect in the murder of George Bynum.Ed grabbed the wall phone in the kitchen and dialed a number. After waiting Ed left a message to.
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