“Too bad we can’t play with you. Now,” he handed me a brush of uncertain vintage. “Straighten your ass up, so you look halfway decent.”I did...what I could with the brush using my reflection in the window, while the SUV drove through the gate and around a hangar, away from the FBO. The jet, a Citation, was parked next to the hangar, with another SUV beside it. We drove around the left wing from behind, and I could hear that at least one engine was already running.The SUV stopped, the front. Stone, captain of the Flying Dutchman, 8:03pm, October 27th 2006.I must have had a look of maximum murder on my face.I'm surprised the skin on my face was not blistering from the heat of hatred."Did anybody see the car that grabbed her?" I asked with as much calm as I could muster. It was not much."Yes," Diane answers, "it was Coach Cane's car." Coach Cane's car?????" That bitch!" I practically thundered. "Playing peace and setting Tiffany up. I swear I am so going to... first things first. More

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