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I helped him back to the car and it was another quiet drive back to the house. When Benson got out he didn’t look any more relieved, or rested, than when he got in. Inside the safety of the house he shed his dark clothing, and I saw how warm he’d been. His shirt and pants were soaked with sweat, and I swear I heard him squeak every time he took a step in his sweat-filled shoes. He removed the rest of his clothes down to his pants; even the socks flew off. I tried not to look, but it was hard when he tossed the wet clothing at me. “Put those in the laundry room,” he gently ordered me.
I went to the rear of the house and deposited the laundry in a basket as though it were radioactive dirty laundry. Apparently his secretary needed to be tasked with doing his laundry, too, or it wo
