nightgown lay over the footboard. Her large breasts pushed into his
lower back. He smiled and slid one hand down her smooth back and
gripped her soft bottom appreciatively.
“I’ve always said, you’ve got the world’s greatest ass, Sid.”
She grunted. “If you like a little additional padding, but I’m working
on it.”
His strong hands slid under her armpits, hoisting her up so they were
face-to-face. His eyes looked deeply into hers and his mouth formed a
solemn line before he spoke. “You’re more beautiful now than the day I
met you, Sidney Archer, and every day I love you more and more.” The
words came but slowly and gently, and made her tremble just as always.
It wasn’t the words he used that had that effect on her. You could find
them in any Hallmark aisle. It was how he said them. The utter
conviction in his voice, his eyes, the pressure of his touch against her
skin.
Jason looked at the clock again and grinned mischievously. “I’ve gotta
leave in three hours to make my plane.”
She crooked her arm around his neck, pulled him down on top of her.
“Well, three hours can be a lifetime.”
Two hours later, his hair still wet from the shower, Jason Archer walked
down the hallway of his home and opened the door to a small room. Set
up as a home office with computer, filing cabinets, wood desk and two
small bookcases, the space was cramped but tidy. One small window
looked out onto the darkness.
Jason closed the door to his office, took a key from his desk drawer and
unlocked the top drawer of the filing cabinet. He stopped and listened
for any sound. This had become habitual even in the confines of his own
house. That revelation was suddenly profoundly disturbing to him. His
wife had gone back to sleep. Amy was sleeping soundly two doors down.
He reached in the drawer and carefully pulled out a large old-fashioned
leather briefcase with double straps, brass buckles and a worn, glossy
finish. Jason opened the briefcase and pulled out a blank floppy disk.
The instructions he had been given were precise. Put everything he had
on one floppy disk, make one hard copy of the documents and then destroy
everything else.
He put the floppy disk in the drive slot and copied all the other
materials he had collected onto that same floppy. That completed, his
finger hovered over the delete key as he prepared to follow his
instructions on destruction of all pertinent files on his hard drive.
His finger wavered, however, and, finally, he chose to follow his
instincts instead.
It took him only a few minutes to make a duplicate copy of the floppy,
after which he deleted the files on his hard drive. After perusing the
contents of the duplicate floppy on his screen for several moments, he
took a few minutes to perform some additional functions on his computer.
As he watched, the text on the screen turned to gibberish. He saved the
changes, exited out of the file, slipped the duplicate disk out of the
computer and inserted it in a small padded envelope, which he secreted
far down in a side pouch of the leather briefcase. As instructed, he
then printed out a hard copy of the contents of the original floppy and
put the printed pages and the original floppy disk in the briefcase’s
main compartment.
Next, he took out his wallet and withdrew the plastic card he had used
to enter his office earlier. He would no longer be needing it. He
flipped the card into his desk drawer and shut it.
He studied the briefcase, his thoughts hovering far away from the little
room. He didn’t enjoy lying to his wife. He had never done that before
and the feeling of prevarication was particularly repugnant to him. But
it was almost over. He shuddered when he thought of all the risks he
had taken. His body shook again when he dwelled on the fact that his
wife knew absolutely nothing about it. He silently went over the plan
again. The route he would take, the evasive steps he would employ, the