53Sunday’s afternoon temperature was supposed to reach the high eighties.
Except for an hour break to drop Vicky at the airport and collect Marina from the Metro stop, I’d spend my day studying Ramsey background reports.
Curled into my chair. Staring at the screen.
No meetings, business or clandestine, dictated my attire. I felt like I was getting a day off from real work.
I slipped an ancient sleeveless halter dress over my panties. The fabric slid softly down my bare back.
Washed-out horizontal stripes alternated across thin white cotton. They could have been painted on with the sticks from melted lime and lemon popsicles.
I went barefoot until I got behind the wheel. Added once-white flip flops for driving.
I delivered Vicky to Dulles at eleven-thirty. Zipped down to Vienna and p
