‘How did nobody find this?’ said Ren. ‘It was tucked away like Russian dolls in the laundry room. Size 2, so they’re not Connie’s. They’ve got to be Shelby’s. And, unless Shelby was planning on getting arrested for indecent exposure, these little numbers were for private viewing only. And there are more.’ As she opened the bag wider, a sweet smell wafted out. She stared into the bag. ‘You know something,’ she said, ‘I stumbled on a TV show for teens recently – regular day-time scheduling, and the nanny in it caught the fifteen-year-old daughter watching porn, because the guy she liked had a previous girlfriend who was “really experienced” and she didn’t want to let him down when they had sex for the first time. So … yup, things are different these days. But … this … this is like a stripper’s bag.’ ‘Surely, our pretty little cheerleader wasn’t a stripper …’ said Bob. ‘I hope not,’ said Ren. ‘Bob – maybe it’s just us. I mean, is this just a teenage girl’s bag for a night at her boyfriend’s house?
