“Sounds kinda like Miss Edmunds.” It was Miss Edmunds. “Jess?” her voice flowed through the receiver. “Miserable weather, isn’t it?” “Yes’m.” He was scared to say more for fear she’d hear the shake. “I was thinking of driving down to Washington—maybe go to the Smithsonian or the National Gallery. How would you like to keep me company?” He broke out in a cold sweat. “Jess?” He licked his lips and shoved his hair off his face. “You still there, Jess?” “Yes’m.” He tried to get a deep breath so he could keep talking. “Would you like to go with me?” Lord. “Yes’m.”
Wtf
