) The local fabric store cooperated by having as sale on some of that lovely, shiny silky fabric that real men never, never wear, not even while eatin... quiche. So with pattern in hand and bundles of fabric and notions laid out carefully I approached the task.The preliminaries went well. I put the company tabletop on the kitchen table, laid out the fabric and cut out a dress for my daughter, a blouse for my wife and myself. As I cut I indulged in fantasies of medieval ladies gathered in a sunlit. "Yes it is," she said, wondering what was going on. A crank call, probably; she'd had some of those."The code words you need are ELAD and SIRRAH," the squeaky voice said. "That's E-L-A-D and S-I-R-R-A-H. Dale and Harris, backwards." There was a click as the phone hung up."Thank you," Heather said into the dead phone. She was still half asleep, still needing to comprehend what she'd heard.Suddenly, it hit her. She sprang from the bed, still naked, and raced to the laptop to boot it up. While it. More

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