NARAYANNE:Email

Ray Jones opened the laptop and paused to look at the delicate and unfamiliar fingers on the keyboard. Sealing himself from a vast sea of doubts Jones remotely logged onto the company server and began composing an Email to his wife. My Dearest Sara sorry to have worried you so. I am investigating some strange goings on in the company. I am trying to be quite about my suspicions. It is something I must do myself, hopefully it is nothing. I will keep in touch but can't risk a phone call yet. Love Ray-bear. By the time Ray was finished composing the Email Jacob was paying the bridge toll. "Ok, we are in Philly again were to now?' Jacob asked. Weed said "lets check out the that park and ride lot to see if ether car was left behind. Then maybe some sleep" "Sounds good to me," Jones yawned. "I have a hunch we will find the Porch there" Weed said pulling a set of car keys from his pocket. "Here Ray look through this and tell me what is missing," Weed said pulling out a wallet and mentally kicking him self for not thinking about this sooner. Raymond took his wallet and began looking through it, two debit cards and three credit cards were missing, that and about three hundred in cash. Jones reported the state of his wallet holding up an American Express Platinum card the thief had missed. "I did not give him the PIM for this one," Jones explained. "Ray do you have anything in your pockets" Jacob asked? "Shit! No fucking pockets," Jones exclaimed. When they finally reached the parking lot the Porch was waiting there. Weeds car was gone. With the other two as look outs Weed checked out the car. In the passenger seat he found a backpack. Going through the pack he found ID that obviously belonged to the previous owner of Jones' current body. "It says here your name is Holy Singleton, you are 23 years old and live in Troy, New York," Weed Said. "Anything else?" Jones asked. "I don't know yet" Weed said. Weed poked around a bit longer an then said," Let's get out of here I will follow you over to Jake's place. Jones looked possessively at the Porch. He though of what his wife would say if a strange woman were stopped driving his car (a car he hardly ever let her drive). With a sigh of resignation Jones agreed. Weed got into the car. The seat did not require adjustments. For Weed, at least, the ride was the high point of the evening.