I was happy. I liked groping Cassie. I adored her giggles and squirming and shoving my hand away. Flipping channels I found an old rerun of West Wing ...nd settled down.Out of the corner of my eye I watched Cassie return, T-shirt still slipping off a bare shoulder, lovely soft pink sweatpants, bare feet. She plunked down on the couch, turned and lay back against the armrest putting her legs on my lap. Watching TV, I stroked a leg, found a bare foot and caressed.I quite loved caressing her foot.. She had, in turn, drawn up a list of suspects, none of whom included Charles Spiderton. Michael the butcher’s son, a handsome man if a bit lacking in cleverness. Professor Rasputin, charming and newly arrived from faraway lands. Nicolas Nightengale, once a soldier in the King’s army who looked quite dashing in his uniform, or so she thought. But never, ever, ever did she suspect the true origin of the offerings, a fact that The Spider was gleefully aware of. You see, he had hatched a nefarious. More

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