How ironic. Randy hadn’t given her a full night’s rest for two and a half weeks, and now she lay in bed, alone, staring at the ceiling, wide awake and horny. Randy lay six feet away on the chaise, apparently dead to the world. The wicker creaked in time with his breathing. Maybe she should, like, take up meditating. The bed got too hot. At first she tried not to move, but sooner or later she ended up wriggling, and that made her think of wriggling on top of Randy, or under Randy, or stop. She thought about the Thompson case instead. Sovay planned to sting Virgil, but how? Did she want to marry him, or would she settle for selling the Venus Machine to him for big bucks? Maybe she’d stolen it. Jewel had no sympathy for anyone who bought the Venus Machine. Did Virgil think it was stolen? What did he want from Sovay — besides the obvious? She wondered if Kauz had brought any contraband potions into the house. She wondered if Randy felt different about her since her double-dose of the Venus Machine.
