PART FIVE

Deputy D. A. Jill Bernhardt steps off the elevator of one of the ritziest apartment buildings in town and pauses in the huge, ornate foyer. Softly she murmurs, 'Wow.' A half dozen reporters lingering in the foyer behind the police tape spot her…

"Miss Bernhardt!"

"Do you have any comment on the murder…"

"Give her room!" a voice shouts.

Inspector Warren Jacobi lifts the police tape and Jill gratefully ducks under. As Jacobi shoos the reporters back, Jill glances around at the huge room and the spectacular view of the bay. She also spots reporter Cindy Thomas out on the terrace interviewing a witness. How does she always manage to get by the police lines? Hey, isn't that the artist guy from the other night, and aww, Cindy is flirting with him. Jacobi rejoins her…

Jill says, "Thanks for the assist. The jackals seem hungrier than usual."

Jacobi replies, "So far, the press only has the news that prominent educator and art expert David Bloom has been murdered."

"And on his birthday?"

"A real Yankee Doodle Dandy. Did you notice the handful of black balloons in the foyer?" Jacobi asks with obvious annoyance.

Knowing Lindsay's partner is turning 50 soon, Jill quickly says, "Yes, and what a terrible idea for a birthday party."

Jacobi nods and points toward a door. "Lindsay and Claire are waiting in the master bedroom. I'm still co-ordinating witness statements."

Jill heads toward the door, and a uniformed officer opens it for her. The room is huge and Jill wonders if the Blooms ever do anything on a small scale. Jill sees her two friends, Dr. Claire Washburn (medical examiner) and Inspector Lindsay Boxer. A black plastic body bag is being loaded onto a stretcher by a crew from the morgue.

"Hey Jill, they tapped you for this?" Lindsay asks.

Jill nods. "My supervisor thought of me right away. Denise never seems to mind disturbing my holidays."

Claire remarks, "I've noticed Ms Kwan isn't too fond of you. Do you want to see the body before we take it away?"

Jill sighs. It was part of the job, and it helped her to connect to the victim. "Uh, 'want to' is a little strong…"

Jill steps closer and Claire unzips the bag revealing David Bloom. He has a bullet hole in the center of his forehead. Quickly Jill turns away as Lindsay hands her a barf bag. Jill suffers a little throw up and wipes her mouth with a tissue. Lindsay hands her a mint. It is an established routine.

Lindsay says, "By now you should be use to this."

"That's…something I never want to get use to." Jill says as she watches the body being hauled away. "Okay, tell me the basic details."

Lindsay replies, "Ashley Bloom, age 24, threw a big birthday bash for her husband David Bloom, age 50 today. About 100 guests were here—I say 'about' because the Blooms are the-more-the-merrier type hosts. Guests are free to invite others to come along."

"So the hosts didn't know all of their guests?"

"Not even close. Moments before the fireworks began, the people out on the terrace thought they heard a gunshot, but some insisted it had to be a firecracker from down on the street."

Jill shakes her head. "Too far away to be that loud."

Lindsay nods her agreement. "Those that realized it was a shot began searching the apartment while most stayed on the terrace watching the fireworks. The searchers found this door locked, and no one would answer their frequent knocks and shouts for a response."

Jill asks, "Any other way in or out of here?"

"No. There is a sitting area, this huge bed chamber, as well as his and hers dressing rooms and bathrooms, but that door is the only exit."

Jill examines the door. "It was locked and no one inside responded. So how was this opened? It hasn't been forced."

Lindsay smiles. "A young guest borrowed a bobby pin and picked the lock."

Jill asks in disbelief, "That lock with just a bobby pin?"

"I know, I find it hard to believe too, but witnesses confirm it. You'll love this part. Our lockpicker is that same girl from the restaurant the other night."

"The one Cindy e-mailed us about? Joan…Girardi? By the way, Cindy made it through the police line again."

Lindsay sighs. "I'll have a talk with her."

"No big deal this time. All she is doing is flirting with that cute artist guy. So, what happened next?"

"A crowd of about 20 rush in, but they stop short when they see our grisly crime scene. They all immediately noticed four odd things. The first of course was the body of David Bloom with a bullet in his head."

Claire adds, "Single shot from a small caliber gun."

Lindsay holds up a small evidence bag. "Confirmed by one shell casing from a .25 caliber automatic. No fingerprints. Second odd thing, Ashley Bloom on the floor next to her husband seemingly waking up from having been knocked out."

Claire nods. "Someone punched her hard in the jaw. Mrs. Bloom lost a tooth and may have a hairline fracture. She's at the ER getting x-rayed."

"Under police guard." Lindsay adds.

Jill asks, "What was the third odd thing?"

"Even though the smell of gunsmoke still lingered in the air, there was no gun to be seen anywheres."

"It disappeared from a locked room?"

Lindsay shrugs. "The windows are sealed and we searched every inch of the bedroom suite."

"So what happened to the gun?"

(Claire and Lindsay share a glance and grin.)

Lindsay replies, "Fourth odd thing. Attached to each one of those dozens of presents on the bed WAS a helium filled balloon."

Automatically, Jill looks up. She sees a large, fully opened skylight 20 feet above her. "You've got to be kidding me. Why do we always get the weird ones?"

Claire replies, "I think it's kharma. In a past life we must have been bad, bad people."

The three women chuckle.

Jill asks, "What's the young wife's story?"

Lindsay shrugs. "The usual nonsense. She and old husband enter the bedroom to discuss a private matter. A big bad man is waiting and slams the door, locking it. He points a gun at the victim, young wife tries to grab it, but the gun goes off. Bad man then punches young wife, knocking her out."

"Description?"

"Tall, thin, dark hair, wearing black pants, white shirt and a red bandana as a mask."

"Any chance…?"

"We've questioned nearly all of the witnesses and their stories are consistent. No one else was in the room, no one came out, and the room was never left unguarded until the police arrived. Unless this mythical bad man could jump 20 feet straight up, young wife is lying."

"How many more witnesses are left to question?"

Lindsay replies, "Three or four. We've been lettting them go as soon as we have their statements. I'm saving the Girardi girl for last. I find her interesting, and I want to find out how she picked a high quality lock with just a bobby pin."

Jill asks, "So we're sure young wife is our killer?"

Claire replies, "She had gunpowder residue on her hand."

Lindsay adds, "And there's a reasonable motive. The victim's sister was here, and she was also the guy's lawyer. According to the sister, Katherine Bloom, she drew up an iron clad pre-nuptuial agreement that says a divorce for any reason leaves young wife with nothing."

"Sounds like young wife was highly motivated to keep old husband happy. Were they having problems?" Jill asks.

"According to the angry sister, young wife has been doing her best to persuade old husband to agree to have a baby. Trust me, young wife has what it takes to be persuasive."

"Did the victim agree?"

"Old husband was overheard by several people to say that he would give young wife his answer in here while the fireworks were distracting the guests. But, the sister/lawyer swears before the marriage, her brother was adamant about no kids."

Jill looks doubtful. "This doesn't seem to rise to the level of violence. What went wrong?"

Claire says, "The old husband reeked of champagne, but the young wife was stone cold sober."

Lindsay adds, "Guests confirm the couple were keeping their distance from each other. He drank heavily while she stuck with the non-alcohol stuff."

Claire says, "We also found an unopened home pregnancy test kit in young wife's medicine cabinet."

Jill responds, "So, young wife thought she might already be pregnant, but was too nervous to find out for sure. That's why she was making the big push to get old husband to agree on a baby."

Lindsay nods. "Our theory is, drunk old husband gives her an emphatic 'NO'. Young wife then blurts out she may be pregnant. He loses his temper and hits young wife for the first time ever. Young wife—shocked, in pain and pissed—grabs her gun and shoots old husband."

"But…why the stunt with the balloons?"

"Panic. People were pounding on the door, and young wife is holding the murder weapon in her hand. Desperate to get rid of it, she…improvises."

Claire adds, "The skylight operates by a control next to the bed."

Lindsay says, "A .25 automatic weighs only a little more than a pound. We figure it's floating around somewhere over the bay—assuming the fireworks didn't shoot it down."

Jill responds, "Okay, it looks like we have a case. If we can get the accused to co-operate, I'll ask for murder two with a recommendation for leniency. Probably 20 years. Out in 10 with good behavior."

Claire asks, "If she doesn't co-operate?"

"Then no leniency, and we will have to point out an additional motive. I assume young wife is in the will?"

Lindsay replies, "According to Katherine Bloom, the young wife gets half and the other half is split between the victim's two sisters, Katherine and Charlotte."

Claire asks, "Charlotte Bloom, that psychic who is always offering her services to the police?"

Lindsay nods. "The same. Fortunately, we've never been that desperate."

Claire says, "Well, if you will excuse me ladies, I have an autopsy to perform."

As Claire exits, Lindsay comments, "Time to get the Girardi girl in here so we can wrap this up."

X X X X X

"This is all my fault." Joan Girardi softly whispers to herself. Joan shivers slightly as the night air is turning brisk, and little black dresses were never made for warmth. She doesn't mind. The cold fits her mood. Joan tries not to let the guilt overwhelm her the way her libido has been doing this week. All she wanted was to have her first time with a guy she cared about, and Adam seemed to be her last chance this summer. But she was warned by her tutor that the ripples could be bad if she continued to indulge her amorous intentions at the price of her spiritual gifts. And he was right. David Bloom is dead, and it's her fault.

A giggle from the other side of the terrace draws Joan's attention. She glances that way and sees reporter Cindy Thomas flirting with Adam. Even at this distance Joan can read Cindy's fascination with Adam, as well as her carnal desires. Too bad Red, you're doing your cause no good. At this moment, Adam is in shock, but deep grief is begining to form. Apparently David Bloom was more than a friend and mentor to Adam. He was a type of father-figure (no offense to Carl Rove, but he and Adam have little in common). Adam is barely aware of Cindy's presence, but when he realizes Cindy is flirting with him at a time like this, he will be offended.

Yes, Joan's abilities are back, no longer blocked by a mountain sized amount of desire. That shrank away to a tiny molehill, and all it took was one gunshot. One man's life... Joan struggles to keep back her tears. This is her fault. Someone was in this apartment with enough hate and violence in his heart to be planning murder. For Joan to have missed this is the spiritual equivalent of a brass band going by unnoticed.

"Miss Girardi...?"

Joan looks up and recognizes the African American detective she spoke briefly to earlier - Inspector Jacobi.

"We're ready for you now."

Joan folllows Jacobi across the salon to the master bedroom. She notes that most of the guests are gone, having been allowed to leave after being questioned. Florene had earlier led a grieving Kate Bloom away from this scene of David's death. Joan managed to whisper that she would be with Adam tonight. There would be no 'benefits' between the two friends, but Joan wanted to be with Adam to offer whatever comfort she could.

Jacobi points to a chair, and Joan takes a seat. There is a small footstool and Joan props up her feet, feeling completely exhausted. Jacobi speaks into a handheld recorder...

"Interview - Joan Girardi, age 19 of Arcadia Maryland. Time 11:01 p. m., present Inspectors Jacobi and Boxer with Deputy D. A. Bernhardt."

Lindsay asks, "Miss Girardi, how did you manage to pick a high quality lock with only a bobby pin?"

"Pure luck. I'd seen stuff like that in the movies, and I thought I would give it a try. An older lady loaned me a bobby pin, and after goofing around with the lock for a few moments, it opened. No one was more surprised than me." Joan lies. In truth, she had one of her old lockpicks at the bottom of her purse, and having Adam block everyone's view of what she was doing, Joan easily opened the lock. The lockpick, wiped of fingerprints, was now over the edge of the roof.

Jacobi asks, "What happened next?"

"My friend Adam and I were shoved along with the crowd, and we ended up falling on the floor. Several people tripped over us and we were pinned there for a couple of minutes. If the grisly crime scene hadn't caused people to suddenly stop, we might have been trampled."

Jill asks, "Are you okay?"

Joan shrugs. "Just a couple of bruises."

Lindsay asks, "What did you first notice in the room?"

"Ashley Bloom waking up, holding her jaw and moaning in pain. She then saw her dead husband next to her and screamed in horror."

"Are you sure her reaction was real?"

"Absolutely." Joan replies. She was sure because she read Ashley's soul. Joan knows the young woman is innocent. Ashley loved her husband a little and his money a lot, but there was no violence in her. Now, how to convince Inspector Boxer of that?

Lindsay continues, "I only ask because all of the other witnesses thought Mrs. Bloom was 'hamming it up'. Acting."

"Their opinions might have been influenced by Kate Bloom repeatedly shouting: 'The little whore murdered my brother'!"

Lindsay and Jacobi exchange glances. No one has mentioned this before.

Jacobi asks, "Can you confirm there was no one else in the bedroom when you entered, and that no one left?"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'No'?"

"Just before the door opened, I heard someone moving about right next to the other side of the door."

Lindsay reacts, "No one else has mentioned that."

"No one else was as close to the door as me. After we rushed in, and we were startled by the scene before us, I definitely had a glimpse of someone, out of the corner of my eye, slipping out of the room. A man left here in the first few seconds of confusion. I'm certain of that."

Jill Berhardt sighs and whispers to Lindsay, "There's one in every crowd."

Jacobi tries again. "Miss Girardi, you can't possibly be 'certain' from a glimpse of motion out of the corner of your eye."

Lindsay adds, "And twenty witnesses contradict your statement. They all agree that they remained unmoving in the doorway area, blocking any exit. No one left - certainly no one from inside this room."

Joan smiles. "Really Inspector, does that sound like human nature to you? That 20 people stood like statues staring at the crime scene until the police arrived? True, several people did just that, but not all. Some immediately walked away unable to deal with the sight of murder. A couple even ran away, headed for the nearest bathroom to be sick. Some went out to the balcony to spread the news, and other came to get a glimpse of what was happening. Several people took out their cell phones, a few to call 9-1-1, but most were ghoulishly taking pictures. You can bet your crime scene is already all over the internet."

Lindsay pauses, thinking this sounded closer to the truth than what she has been hearing tonight. "Even so, somebody would have noticed a man dressed...uh..."

Joan smiles at Lindsay's hesitation. "I already have heard Mrs. Bloom's story directly from her. Once we were able to get up, Adam and I helped Ashley into a chair...actually, this chair. We called for help, and the Bloom's housekeeper, Mrs. Tolliver, came with a first aid kit and an ice bag for Ashley's jaw. It was while we were helping her that Ashley gave us her side of the story."

"Then you know how unlikely it is that young wife's...I mean, Mrs. Bloom's story is. When the fireworks began, and all of the guests were on the terrace, the catering staff took their break in the kitchen. I'm well aware that they were all dressed in black pants, white shirts, and with a red cravat at the throat. But, that proves Mrs. Bloom was lying. No one could have missed a man dressed in just shirt sleeves when all of the male guests were wearing suit jackets or tuxedoes."

"That's very true, which is why I asked Mrs. Tolliver to check Mr. Bloom's closet. He owns three tuxedo jackets. He was wearing one, one was still in the closet, and one was missing. The killer was one of the catering staff, and he slipped out of here looking like one of the guests."

Lindsay exchanges glances with Jacobi and Jill, doubt begining to appear on their faces. Lindsay blurts out, "Miss Girardi, we all know your reputation from your hometown, but this isn't Arcadia, and your daddy isn't police chief here. This is the big city where we do not tolerate interference in police matters. I'm warning you, any amateur detective efforts on your part will result in your arrest for obstruction of justice. Understand?"

Joan pauses a moment, trying not to let the 'daddy' remark upset her. "No, I guess I don't understand. For the record Inspector Boxer, Inspector Jacobi and Deputy D. A. Bernhardt, am I being intimidated into altering my testimony in order to more comfortably fit with your already formed conceptions of how this case should be settled?"

Jill holds up a warning hand and points at the recorder. "Remember, she's pre-law. No Miss Girardi, no one is trying to influence your statement, but you must understand that trained public officials become concerned when untrained, inexperienced amateurs try to impose themselves into an investigation. Certainly we want to hear all you have to say, but we have to take into account your own obvious bias in favor of our prime suspect."

Lindsay adds, "And for your information, we have already checked out the entire catering staff. There was the manager Mr. Harley of Oppulent Occasions and Parties, and his staff of 15. All were known to him, and he vouches for them. All 15 were in the kitchen when the murder occured."

"Well, I wasn't there, so I can't say differently. Although, I might speculate that those 15 might have made a few trips to the bathroom, or slipped out into the service corridor for a smoke, and since they were all young men and women, perhaps even to make out a bit. And I don't know how it is done in the 'big city' but in Arcadia, when a caterer needs extra hands for a big party, he posts a message at the local college for experienced help. Usually there is a flood of resumes, often exaggerated, and the caterer picks at random. If you question this Mr. Harley a little more intensely, you might find that in order to defend his firm's reputation, he has vouched for several people he only met today. Plus, since many of the staff didn't know each other, how hard would it have been for a 16th waiter to blend in with the O.O.P.'s crew?"

Jill and Lindsay shake their heads, seeing their case crumble before them.

Jacobi asks, "Even if your theory is correct, how did the killer get out of the apartment? Exiting out the front way was impossible because guests were watching that for the arrival of the police. The service exit was blocked by the catering staff. So how did he leave?"

"There's a third elevator."

Lindsay shakes her head. "No way."

"It's in the den. A small, private one that goes directly to the parking garage - one of the perks of renting the penthouse."

Jacobi says, "Impossible. The Unies searched everywheres."

"Your uniformed officers might have easily missed it. The door of the elevator matches the paneling in the den. It isn't invisible, but unless you know where to look, it's hard to spot. I got all of this from Mrs. Tolliver. Are you sure you questioned her?"

Jacobi sheepishly replies, "The housekeeper was is the kitchen having a snack and watching the fireworks from the window when the crime occured. She seemed so upset, we didn't press."

Joan adds, "She also let slip, while weeping on my shoulder, about Ashley's unopened pregnancy test kit. I guess that explains why Ashley was pushing hard on the baby idea."

Jill sharply says, "That's not for release."

"I'm not the one who is always hanging out with a reporter. By the way, what is she doing this side of the police line flirting with my...friend?" Joan asks while reminding herself she must stop referring to Adam as her 'boyfriend'.

Before anyone can respond, a uniformed officer knocks and enters... "Lt. Hogan has arrived."

"I'll go." Lindsay says.

Joan notes that the beautiful Inspector Boxer goes through an automatic ritual of straightening her clothes, fluffing her hair and checking her boobs to see if they look good. They do. After she exits, Joan realizes how exhausting it has become to constantly lie, as the information she has been giving was derived trhough her spiritual abilities.

"I'm really tired. Are we done for now?"

Jacobi looks to Jill and shrugs. "I suppose so, but keep yourself available for future questioning, Miss Girardi."

Joan nods and walks out into the main salon. She sees Lindsay meeting Tom Hogan at the center of the room, and can just make out her questioning... "You brought HEATHER to a crime scene?"

Tom Hogan takes Lindsay by the arm and draws her away to a more secluded corner of the room. Joan, seeing her distant relative Heather Donnelly, goes to join her. (As she does, Joan notices that Cindy Thomas has wisely stopped her flirtation and is now commiserating with Adam.)

"Hello Heather, what brings a nice school teacher like you to a crime scene like this?"

"Hello Joan. Tom and I were down at the waterfront watching the fireworks. When they were done, and we were headed back to his car, he got a call about an important murder on Nob Hill. Apparently the police chief has been receiving a lot of calls from prominent people, and she wanted a senior officer on the scene to make a report. Naturally, Tom coudln't just leave me out on the street alone, so I came along."

Joan nods and looks to where Lindsay and Tom are having a rather tense conversation. Joan asks, "What's up with those two?"

"You see it also?"

"That they have some sort of couple's vibe? Yeah, hard to miss."

"Lindsay is Tom's ex-wife. They use to work in different divisions, but when Tom was promoted, he became Lindsay's boss. Now, they see each other nearly every day..."

Joan senses Heather's concern. "Hey, they're divorced and Tom is marrying you."

"I know, and I try not to be jealous, but...she's just so beautiful."

There was no denying that. Joan wishes she could offer Heather some comforting words, but the two exes are like two halves of a broken whole. There are a lot of unresolved issues between them, and their potential relationship is as explosive as dynamite and a match. It wouldn't take much for some fireworks of their own to occur between Tom and Lindsay.

"Did they have any kids?" Joan asks.

"Not exactly. Lindsay had a late term miscarriage, and the doctors were unable to save their little girl. It led to the end of their marriage. Tom, normally a very strong man, needed his wife to help him through that difficult time, but Lindsay withdrew from him in order to concentrate on her work. I suppose she just couldn't deal with her loss. Lindsay became especially obsessed with a serial killer the press dubbed the 'Kiss-Me-Not-Killer', because he use to sew up his victim's mouths."

"Gross. I assume Lindsay never caught the serial killer?"

"How did you know?"

"She must have realized she needed to grieve, but that was too painful to face. So, she set before herself a 'noble quest' as an excuse as to why she couldn't take the time to deal with her loss. If Lindsay had caught this Kiss-Me-Not-Killer, then the quest would have been over and she would have had to give herself permission to properly mourn."

"And it might have saved their marriage. I never thought of that. Thank you Joan for the perspective."

Joan gives Heather a smile of encouragement. "Tom seems like a decent guy. When the two of you are married and expecting your first child, I'd bet he will be the most devoted husband ever."

Heather smiles, feeling a little better. Joan says her goodbyes, and collects Adam for the return trip to Berkeley. Joan can't help but feel a brief moment of gloat as she sees Cindy's face as she walks away with Adam.

X X X X X

Catching the last train of the night back to Berkeley, an exhausted Adam and Joan sit side-by-side resting their heads together. Entering the small apartment, they hold each other for a long while. Joan feels Adam's pain, and hopes he will open up so the healing process can begin, but she knows she must not press the matter. Adam begins making up the other futon...

"Adam, we're not going to sleep together?"

Adam sighs. "Jane..."

"I only meant, I thought you might want someone to be close to, to cuddle with as a type of comfort. I wasn't suggesting sex. I only want to help you through this, Adam."

Adam nods and briefly smiles. "Thank you, that is a tempting offer, but...so are you. We both know I have problems when it comes to temptation, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to resist...ya know."

Joan shrugs. "We agreed, friends forever and with benefits when desired. I know you just want to curl up and grieve, but you don't have to do it alone. If all you need is to be held, I'm here for you. If you want...the other, that's okay too."

"Thank you Jane, but I don't want to risk mixing up the memories of our first time with the horror of tonight. Another time, okay?"

"Absolutely. I'll take the other futon, but if you change your mind about the holding, the cuddling, I'm here for you. Oh, meanwhile, I just realized I didn't bring any night clothes. I originally thought...I wouldn't need them"

"Uh, my room mate Wil is a lot taller than me. One of his tee shirts should make you an adequate night gown."

Adam goes to a chest of drawers, and after a bit of rummaging around, comes up with a clean white shirt. Joan accepts the loan and quickly enters the small bathroom. After removing all of her clothes and rinsing out her underthings, she slips on the tee shirt. Wow, the room mate must really be tall. The shirt reaches all the way down to her knees. Joan returns to the main room, and Adam enters the bathroom carrying a set of pajamas. Joan sits on the second futon and carefully tugs down the 'hem'. As she waits for Adam, she again spots his sketch book on the coffee table. She knows she should resist the temptation, but Joan can't help speculating about Adam's two lovers, and if she can spot them amongst so many beautiful women.

Joan begins turning the pages, and quickly realizes there is only one sketch for each beauty. That is until she comes to the twenty-first one. There are five sketches of this woman, all in different poses, and with an undeniable greater attention to details, especially the more intimate ones. The young woman is petite and thin, but is very well muscled. She has small but perky breasts, and her poses are free and graceful as she exults in her nudity. Unquestionably she is a ballerina, and her beautiful face reminds Joan of an old time movie star when she was very young and at her prettiest...Audrey Hepburn. Yes, there was an undeniable resemblance, and Joan can see why Adam was enraptured by this beautiful free spirit. Joan tries hard to resist it, but a twinge of jealousy twists inside of her.

Joan starts turning the pages again, looking for the second of Adam's lovers. The women vary from their late teens up to their mid-30's, but all are lovely. Of course much of that has to do with the talent and personality of Adam Rove. Joan knows Adam has always had a problem in seeing the flaws of women, both in personality and in appearance. He automatically lessens all flaws until they nearly disappear from his sketches while enhancing any woman's best features. Even the most ordinary woman looks very attractive when drawn by Adam. Joan recently saw a semi-nude sketch Adam did of Grace when they were both 14, and Grace looked beautiful. (Even so, she has been hiding that sketch for years, and only recently shared it with Luke.) Joan keeps turning the pages, unable to find Adam's second lover, and begins to think that she might not be in here. Then, Joan come to the last one...

Again there are five sketches of this beauty in different poses. She is stunningly beautiful with long blonde hair, big blue eyes and a smile that invites friendship and sex as equals. She is an uncomplicated woman in her 20's who takes life for its' pleasures, and is happy to share the pleasure she can offer, which is considerable. No wonder Adam could not resist this second lover. Joan of course recognizes the blonde beauty. No one could forget the enormous breasts of...Ashley Bloom.

To Be Continued. Please review.