Marcie giggled. “Oh, Hal, you’re so funny. Touch them if you want to.”

Hal reached out to run tentative fingers over her smooth warm flesh. His fingertips tingled, but Marcie’s little groaning sounds made him draw back quickly. “I’m sorry, Marcie. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Marcie giggled again. “You didn’t, silly. It felt wonderful.” She reached out to pull him closer. Hal’s head swam with the sensation of being this close to her deliciously soft skin.

Marcie groaned again and held his head tighter. Hal thought he’d died and gone to heaven and then a headline popped into his mind. Promising young cartoonist found smothered by Marcie Wilson’s breast. What a way to die!

It could have gone on for hours, Hal didn’t know. He was vaguely aware of the cars whizzing past on the causeway below, but maybe that was the sound of the blood coursing through his veins. Marcie’s fingers played in his hair, combing and twisting playfully. He’d never known that individual strands of hair could tingle with delight.

“Will you do a drawing of your darling chicken for me, Hal? I’d just love to have one to hang in my bedroom.”

“Sure. I’ll do that, Marcie.” Hal didn’t even recognize his own voice. It was low and muffled, and he felt himself gasping for breath. He wondered if he was too young to have a cardiac arrest.

“I want you to sign it, too.” Marcie was very serious as she wiggled away. “An original Hal Knight to hang where I can look at it every time I get ready for bed. Will you promise to do that, Hal?”

“I promise, Marcie.” Hal would have promised anything just as long as Marcie didn’t put on her blouse again.

“You’re so nice, Hal. And I’ve got something for you, too. Just look.”

Hal looked down just in time to see Marcie pull up her skirt. He gasped out loud as he saw she was wearing only a baby blue garter belt.

“God!” It was a combination sigh and prayer. He’d seen pictures of women with no clothes on before, but he’d never expected to see Marcie Wilson like this.

Marcie giggled and caught his hand. “I just don’t know if I should let you or not. Maybe if I had that drawing, I might. You have some art paper with you, don’t you, Hal?”

“Art paper?”

It took a minute for Hal to understand what she wanted. Then he straightened up in the seat and grinned as he reached for the drawing pad he always carried with him. He’d dash off a drawing of Chiquita Chicken for her and Marcie would let him do what he’d been dreaming about for months. What a deal!

His hands were trembling and he had to take a couple of deep breaths to make them steady enough to draw. He’d spent a lot of time perfecting Chiquita Chicken and it should have been no problem to draw her now. But Marcie had slipped down in the seat and she hadn’t put any of her clothes back on, even though he’d flicked on the dome light. He ruined three sheets of drawing paper before he finally got a rendition of Chiquita good enough to give her.

“That’s wonderful.” Marcie smiled as he showed her his drawing. “Sign it, Hal. And then turn off the dome light. You’ve been so nice to me that I’m going to be just as nice to you.”

Hal’s head reeled as he scrawled his name on the bottom of the drawing. What a night this would be!

Hal poured himself another drink and didn’t bother to sip it. Marcie Wilson was probably an overweight matron by now, but the thought of that night still made him sick. The most beautiful girl in the senior class and he hadn’t been able to do it. Naturally, she’d told her girlfriends, and they’d spread it all through the school. Hal had spent the remainder of his senior year in an agony of embarrassment.

He stuffed the drawing back in its portfolio and reached for another. Marcie’s drawing was worth real money now, and he was sure she’d kept it. That’s what she’d been after in the first place.

Far away on the West Coast, the chances of running into anyone who knew Marcie Wilson had diminished considerably. But it had still taken Hal a full year before he’d tried to make love to another woman. He’d picked an expensive call girl knowing that high-priced hookers with big mouths didn’t last long in a city like Vegas. But even then he hadn’t been able to go through with it, not then and not in several attempts after that.

So he’d gone to a shrink who’d suggested a therapy that had made Hal laugh out loud. He’d told Hal to find a girl who looked just like the Marcie he remembered and attempt to reenact that night. It hadn’t crossed his mind in the years since . . . until he’d met Vanessa.

Vanessa was a ringer for Marcie, right down to the cute little mole on the side of her neck. And she’d had no idea that he was rich. The dinner she’d made for him in her run-down apartment had been the nicest thing anyone had done for him in years. That’s when he’d made up his mind to marry her, if she’d have him. He hadn’t been able to resist the girl of his adolescent dreams.

Hal sighed as he opened another portfolio and drew out a whole series of drawings he’d shelved to preserve his marriage. In a moment of weakness, when he’d still thought it might work between them, he’d offered to name one of his cartoon characters after her. Naturally, Vanessa had been delighted.

Unfortunately, all Hal’s previous characters were alliterative. He’d used it as a gimmick at the beginning of his career and now names like Skampy Skunk, Benny Bunny, and Chiquita Chicken had become the Hal Knight trademark. If he used Vanessa’s name, her character would have to start with the letter V and he couldn’t think of any V animals. Vanessa had been insistent. So late one night, Hal had sat down in front of his drawing board, determined to come up with a character that would please his wife.

It had taken hours, but he’d finally come up with a series of drawings for Vanessa Varmint, a cute little red weasel that flew in from Paris to tug on the heartstrings of everyone’s favorite character, Skampy Skunk. And he’d introduced her in his Sunday strip.

Hal still remembered Vanessa’s shocked expression when she’d picked up the paper and caught the first glimpse of her personal cartoon character. A weasel? She didn’t care how cute it was!

That Sunday strip had been Vanessa Varmint’s debut and her swan song, all rolled into one. She’d never seen the light of day again. And here Hal was, stuck with a whole portfolio of drawings he’d never used.

Hal sighed. They really were pretty good. He guessed he could reintroduce Vanessa Varmint now that her namesake was no longer around to object, but Skampy Skunk was better off as a freewheeling bachelor. Right now he was in the midst of a tenuous romance with Penelope Possum, the unwed mother of six. There was a problem with the babysitter and Skampy Skunk couldn’t seem to get his ladylove alone. Since Penelope’s sister, Patricia, was now working for the postal service and using her pouch to carry the mail, Penelope and Skampy had to take the kids along on all their dates.

Hal picked up the portfolio with the Vanessa Varmint drawings and started to toss it into the trash, until it dawned on him that someday someone would pay top dollar for an unpublished series by Hal Knight. As he stuffed the portfolio back in the file drawer, Hal wondered whether the real Vanessa would have changed her attitude toward varmints if she’d known just how valuable that little red weasel might turn out to be.

It was past midnight and Hal yawned as he got to his feet and headed for bed. At least he wouldn’t miss Vanessa there. They’d had separate bedrooms for over a year.

A key fell out of his pocket as he slipped out of his shirt. Bending over to pick it up, Hal saw it was on a little gold ring with a tag that said, Smiling Bill Korman in Henderson. I’ve Got a Deal for You! Hal was thoroughly puzzled; he’d never bought a car from Smiling Bill in his life. Then he remembered that Walker had given it to him when he’d come back to Grace and Moira’s apartment, explaining that he’d found it on the floor next to Vanessa’s body. Hal had slipped it into his pocket without even looking at it, assuming that it was Vanessa’s door key.