Buckley wasn’t smiling, he was sneering, perspire shining on his forehead, his green eyes dark, focussed and narrow. He was staring at Marguerite’... face but he wasn’t seeing her. Marguerite’s skin prickled and she stopped meeting his thrusts. Something was wrong… ‘Buckley?’ A touch of fear lowered her voice to a whisper. Nothing. Marguerite tried again. ‘Buckley?’ This time her voice was louder, as she tried to suppress her alarm. Buckley’s only response was to thrust brutally between her legs.. That is, if I could get the Beautiful Maiden to kiss the frog.That should have been the happy fairy-tale note that allowed me to drop off to sleep, but it wasn't. My next thought was about what Reggie had said. I had to admit it, he was right. Shirley Kiner's past -- her California past -- deserved some investigation. Just how bad was it? Was it just those Internet photos -- the ones that Shirley, herself, had mentioned to us?Or was there more? Had she really been a porn actress? Wow! I. More

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