She said that she wanted to go, and asked if I was willing."Sure," I said, "Why not?"We gathered our belongings and clothes and met then at the club’s lobby. Frank suggested that Wendy ride back with me, in my car, so I wouldn’t get lost, and that Karen come with him. Wendy quickly grabbed my arm and said, "Let’s go."Wendy started to drag me outside into the parking lot without giving me a chance to say anything more. Frank put his arm around Karen’s back, whispered something into her ear, and off we all went. A short ride later, we had arrived at their home, it was a very nice Tudor home in a very good section of town. Certainly, they were not slobs . . . I did notice that as Frank exited his car, he stopped to pull his fly zipper up . . . and that Karen was licking her lips as she got out of his car.As the evening was young, Karen was still dressed in her bright red, strapless leather dress, which she had slipped over her tiny bikini and heels. I was wearing my black leather. KC had to work at her gallery, and Elsa and Cindy were at jet school in Florida.We had our glasses of wine and were sharing a shrimp cocktail when a strange thing happened – a shocking thing.A waiter came bustling in from some of the restaurant’s sidewalk tables, walked straight to our table, and then pointed sequentially at the three of us. It was Myron Tanner dressed like a waiter, even with a napkin over his arm. He said to the three of us, “I’m not finished with you by far. Watch your every step. One of them might go boom!” On that note he turned and hustled into the kitchen.The three of us immediately went into shock. None of us had seen Tanner in person, and certainly not three feet away from us. Before any of us could react he was gone.None of the other diners and even our own security team paid too much attention to the situation. It all looked normal, a waiter checking on his patrons at one of his assigned tables. I flagged Hal Babcock, Izzy’s guard, frantically waving him.
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