Martha walked briskly towards the parade ground where she left Rona Whiting. She had the shoebox tucked under her arm while Stewart walked a few steps away from her.
"You know there's a place called a rest stop that we could hang out for a while, Martha," Stewart suggested as he gasped for breath. "That way, we can appreciate those art photographs in that shoebox."
Martha sighed," First, this is not art. Second, these were taken forcefully and without Rona's consent. Third, she wants it back. There's no real opportunity to admire these smut at all."
"Why did it happen anyway? I mean, if Gary did this to her, why not go to the police?"
"Well, I sense that it was not easy for her. Maybe she was madly in love with that monster. And he is just basically using her with any opportunity he could get. Rona needs help."
"Well, help is on the way. I hope it's no longer a typing job."
Martha stopped and looked at Stewart.
