"Oh, you couldn't have. You're too tender and kindly." She held her hand out and motioned him down beside her.
Wheelan sat, feeling the sand seep in over the sides of his loafers. "Maybe I'll talk to Neff. There should be a law against this kind of thing."
"Chief Neff? I doubt if he'll do anything."
"Why?"
"Because he's so active on our Civic Public Relations Committee. And he owns a couple of motels."
Wheelan absently put his hand on Karen's shoulder. "Now, somebody must be against this. Maybe Dr. Watchers. He was even against free paper towels in the public johns."
"He passed away," Karen said, moving Wheelan's arm around her with her shoulders.
"I could write to the governor," Wheelan said, noticing Karen's soft dark hair fluttering faintly over the tip of his nose. "There must be a law against lycanthropy."
Karen shook her head. "No. They checked on it. There is in one of the New England states. The dunking stool is the penalty, I think."
"Why?" he said in a loud voice.