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To his left, the deck disappeared behind a grouping of trees, leading to the other parking lot. The walkway to his right drew out into a long dock, illuminated by moonlight until it tucked under the shadow of a little roof. The dock normally had three glowing lights on the beginning, middle, and the end. Not today. Sweat moistened his palms. A woman stood under the darkened middle light. Her arms swept around the post behind her head, long hair picking up short gusts of the lonely night. Sweat courted the naked flesh of her upper body, throwing specks of light from her swollen breasts. She faced the river away from him, looking at the little bridge parallel to the dock. Tom let out a breath. Checked the area around him. Clear. He straightened and clicked off his flashlight, reminding himself that he was a cop. Trained to deal with any situation, even if the woman looked like she belonged on the helm of a pirate ship. His footsteps sounded hollow on the wooden walkway until his. I still didn't know what we were doing, but I figured I would give in and go along with it. There was 7 of us on stage - me, my 2 girlfriends and 4 other girls. The guy up there with us was talking into the bullhorn the whole time:"Alright ladies, to get this started we need you to go inside and change into your team uniform!" Now I was really confused. I'm not real good at sports so I was pretty worried. Another guy who lived in the house came to the stage and escorted us to the house. He threw a white piece of clothing at each of us and said:"Here ya go, put these on and then I'll take you back out..."They were wife beater shirts and most of them were either cut off halfway or torn up one way or another. My crazy friend said, "I knew it was gonna be a wet-t contest!" And she changed right into the shirt she was given. Took her bra off and everything without even thinking about it. Sometimes I wish I had her guts.I was crazy nervous! I could actually feel myself shaking on the.
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No one had anything to cover the body with, or they’d have just left it there until the hearse could get there from Madison. The constable arrived, and got the doctor’s report. Then he picked up the photographs, and glanced at them.“He was just standing there, looking at those pictures and talking to nobody,” said Jasper Reynolds, “when he just dropped like a bag of cement!”Others began to edge closer, to see what the man had been looking at when he died, but the constable held them against his chest. He picked up the rest, and the letter, stuffing them all back into the large brown envelope they had come in. Things were bad enough. Now was not the time for folks to get upset.Once he had everything picked up, he drafted four men to carry the body back to the bank, and told another to wait and direct the men from the funeral home there when they arrived. He stopped in his tiny office, to examine the photographs and letter more closely. He was beginning to understand why the man had.

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