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"Uncle Hank was Gunny Dalton."Charity gaped at Hank."Hank and your daddy and I were in the same commando unit," Ned explained to the 13 year old girl. "Hank and I go way back—he saved my life more times than I can count."Back to the subject," Ned said as he squarely faced Hank Dalton. "What is your take on the assassination?" Dave wasn't responsible for killing Benton Harold." Hank said."You don't believe that Slave Dave killed his owner?" Karen asked."Oh, I believe that. I believe that Dave used a Fairbairn dagger to kill Benton, too. Our special operations detachment carried the British Commando dagger of World War Two for purposes of esprit de corps, and Benton had me drill everybody in the techniques specific to that blade. I had been an amateur historian and I studied World War Two special operations units in exhausting detail. I think that the technique and tool used was intended to give us a message. What I mean when I say that Slave Dave wasn't RESPONSIBLE for killing Benton. ?" There is a question in my voice, wondering why you are rushing us, but I pull you against me as I lean back against the door to close it. I look down at the top of your head, then gently pull your hair to tip your face up to mine. I kiss you tenderly, lingering, my eyes closed. Finally, you respond, putting your arms around my neck. I can feel your purse against my back. Our kiss deepens as our tongues find each other and play. I love the feel of your body against mine, but I finally pull away, leaning back against the door."God, you kiss good!" Oh David," you whisper, leaning your head against my chest.I hold you a moment more, then, "Okay, NOW we can leave!"You smile up at me as we walk out to the car. I open the door for you, admiring that bit of thigh that shows as your skirt rides up a little getting into the low seat. I get in on my side, quickly starting the car, but then turn to you, just looking at you. You can see the sparkle in my eyes as I lean over to kiss you.I take a.
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