Shaw started to reply, but the door opened interrupting him. A woman walked in. She was the kind of woman I found annoying. Her hair was too blonde, her breasts enhanced by plastic surgery were too large and too perfect. Her tanned legs were too shapely. She could have passed for thirty, my age. But, the crows feet at the outer corners of her eyes betrayed that she was older than forty. She walked over and sat down on the opposite end of the couch with one perfect leg crossed over the other.
Shaw introduced us. She was the wife, Kathleen Shaw. Kathleen leaned over and offered her hand. Her handshake was firm but feminine. She smiled and said she was happy to meet me.
"Ms. O'Sullivan seems like the kind of person we need," Douglas Shaw said.
Kathleen glanced at me and smiled. "It would have surprised me if you didn't think so," she said.
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