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. ." Could... could you make that luncheon date for today?" Cindy asked hopefully. "It... it would be appreciated. I have... something to talk to you about." Of course. I have some leftover roast beef, and I'll make some sandwiches and we'll have a nice chat. How does that sound?" Wonderful!" Cindy said, breathing almost with relief. "What time?" Mmm, in about an hour. Say at eleven." I'll be there!" Cindy promised, and hung up.The Taylor home was in another section of town. It wasn't in the finest area, but neither was it in a tract development as was the Jamison residence. It was in the lush, green hills bordering the western edge of Morriston, catching the morning and noon sun, but having a cooler late afternoon and evening than the majority of flat, fertile land around it. Cindy drove her car--a Volkswagen Variant 1600--through Morriston and up the winding, narrow streets, pulling the sun visor down as the sparkling rays blinded her eyes.The Taylor home was an older one, built.
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