The Private Eye (10 page)

“Thank you for reminding me,” Maggie answered through
set teeth.

“That's what I'm here for, ma'am. To check out the
details.”

Odessa smiled happily. “Such a relief to know you're on
the job. Josh.”

“Sure is,” Shirley agreed. “Like my Ricky always used
to say, when you want something done right, hire a professional.”

Josh smiled. “I'm sure Ricky knew all about hiring
professionals, Shirley.”

MAGGIE DRESSED FOR DINNER with some trepidation that
evening. She had been worrying all afternoon about the “cover story” Josh was
supposedly inventing. The closer six o'clock got, the more she fretted about
it.

She slipped into a long-sleeved black dinner dress that
hugged her small waist and flared out around her calves in a rich swirl of
fabric. She brushed her hair out so that it hung freely around her shoulders,
and was pondering the question of earrings when a knock sounded on the door.

“Clay's here.” Shirley called. “Let's see how you look,
honey.”

Maggie opened her bedroom door. “Tell him I'll be right
down, will you?”

“Sure. Hey, you know what? I've got a necklace that
would be perfect with that dress. Hang on. 111 get it.”

“That's all right, Shirley, really….” Maggie's voice
trailed off as Shirley disappeared down the hall.

The older woman reappeared a few minutes later with a
long rhinestone-studded necklace of ancient vintage. “Here you go, honey.
This'll be perfect.”

Maggie smiled weakly, unwilling to hurt Shirley's
feelings by refusing the gaudy necklace. “Thanks, Shirley.” She put the long
string of rhinestones over her head. It hung to her waist. The rhinestones
twinkled cheerfully as they fell across her breasts. Maggie glanced in the
mirror and smiled. The tacky, glitzy look was rather appealing in its own way.

“Have a good time, honey.” Shirley waved from the top
of the stairs. “Seeing you off like this always makes me think of the days when
Ricky took me to all the best places.”

“Thanks for the loan of the necklace, Shirley.”

Maggie heard voices in the parlor as she went down the
stairs. When she caught Josh's soft, deep tones, she hurried quickly down the
last few steps. She had wanted to be present to monitor things when he gave his
cover story. She was learning that, left unsupervised, Josh was somewhat
unpredictable. She moved into the parlor just as Josh and Clay were shaking
hands.

“Pleased to meet you, January,” Clay said. “I heard
Maggie had someone staying here. Thought she'd closed the place for the winter
season.”

“A mutual friend prevailed on her to make an exception
for me,” Josh explained easily. “I'm writing a book and 1 needed a quiet place
to work. The friend suggested Peregrine Manor and talked Maggie into letting me
come here for a month.” He turned his head as Maggie walked through the door.
“Isn't that right, Maggie?”

A writer. Of course. It was perfect. Why hadn't she
thought of that? Maggie wondered. She smiled in relief and immediately felt
more cheerful. Josh might be a pain in a certain part of the anatomy from time
to time, but he really could be clever on occasion. Posing as a writer seeking
solitude and inspiration was a wonderful explanation for his presence at the
manor.

“Yes, that's right,” Maggie added brightly. “A mutual
friend of ours talked me into it. And since Josh doesn't care that we're doing
some refurbishing around the manor, I decided to make the exception. Ready to
go, Clay?”

“You bet. You look lovely tonight, Maggie.” Clay smiled
warmly at her and the smile was reflected in his pale blue eyes. He was an
attractive man with an engaging, friendly air that stood him well in the real-estate
business.

Tonight Clay was dressed for dinner in an expensive
wool jacket and slacks. There was a chunky gold ring set with a diamond on his
hand and a thin gold watch on his wrist. His sandy brown hair had been moussed
and blown-dry into a smooth style that made him look very sophisticated and
urbane next to Josh.

Somehow the contrast between the two men had the effect
of making Josh look decidedly tough and dangerous. That was primarily because
Josh hadn't yet changed for dinner, Maggie decided, feeling charitable.

He was still wearing jeans, running shoes and a work
shirt. His dark hair had probably never known the touch of mousse. Maggie wondered
if he had deliberately come downstairs in his jeans and work shirt in order to
make his cover story more realistic. He actually looked like a writer, she
thought. Not that she had ever actually met one in person.

“We really should be on our way.” Maggie smiled at
Clay.

“Don't worry, honey,” Clay said with a charming laugh.
“This is Peregrine Point, not Seattle. We don't have to worry about losing our
table at the Surf and Sand Restaurant.”

“Yes, I know, but I'm really very hungry.” Maggie took
his arm and urged him toward the door. She didn't want him hanging around asking
questions, josh's cover story might not hold up if Clay got inquisitive.

“Have a good time,” Josh murmured from the doorway. The
words were polite, but Maggie thought there was something strange about his
tone – something she couldn't put her finger on.

“Thanks.” Maggie glanced back over her shoulder and was
jolted by the laconic gleam in Josh's eyes. She frowned.

“What time should we expect you home?” Josh asked. He
propped one shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms.

“Don't worry about it,” Maggie retorted with a cool
smile. “I've got my own key. I own the place, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. That's right.”

Maggie was relieved when the door dosed firmly behind
her and Clay.

“How long has he been here?” Clay asked as he helped
her into the front seat of his silver Mercedes.

“Not long. A week.”

“Seems to have made himself right at home.” Clay closed
the car door and went around to the driver's side.

“Who's your mutual friend? The one who suggested he
stay here?”

Maggie experienced a moment of panic. It was a perfectly
natural question under the circumstances and she ought to have been prepared
for it. Darn it, she would have been prepared if Josh had taken the trouble to
tell her his cover story before Clay's arrival. But, no, he had to try to
impress her with his cleverness. She would speak to him about that later,
Maggie decided.

“Oh, just someone we both know in Seattle,” she said
airily. “To tell you the truth, as long as Josh doesn't mind staying at the
manor while we're refurbishing, I don't mind having him there. Things are going
to be a little lean this winter without any paying guests. Usually our weekends
are booked solid, even in November and December,”

Clay nodded with obvious concern. “I know. It's going
to be rough for the next few months, honey. Sure it's worth it?”

Maggie sighed. “I have to try to save the place. Clay.
I've told you that.”

“Honey, I admire your kind heart, but take it from an
expert – that old mansion is a white elephant. You'll wind up pouring all your
income back into it and in the end, you'll probably have to sell, anyway. You'd
be better off dumping the place now and clearing some profit.”

Maggie's mouth tightened. This was not the first time
Clay had suggested she sell the manor. She had to admit that from his point of
view, it made perfect sense.

Clay was in the real-estate business, after all. He
knew about this kind of thing. “I know you're probably right, Clay. But the
thing is, I've made a commitment to the Colonel, Odessa and Shirley. I have to
try.”

Clay took one hand off the wheel to reach over and pat
her hand. “I understand, Just remember that if you change your mind, I'll be
glad to help you find a buyer.

And I won't even charge you my usual commission.

How's that for a deal you can't refuse?”

Maggie smiled ruefully. “Thanks. I'll keep it in mind.”

AT ELEVEN O'CLOCK that evening, Maggie was back on her
doorstep, saying good-night to Clay. Unfortunately, it was getting harder and
harder to find polite ways of getting rid of him.

Maggie knew in her heart that all she had ever wanted
with Clay was a casual friendship, and she was starting to feel a little guilty
about that. Clay was beginning to push for a much more intimate relationship.
She wondered how much longer she should go on accepting his invitations when
she knew she was never going to fall in love with him. Perhaps it was time to
gently end it.

“Clay,” she began as she fished her key out of her
purse. “I've been thinking.”

His mouth curved in amusement as he hovered close.

“So have I. I see the lights are off in the parlor,
which means the Colonel and the others have gone to bed. Why don't you invite
me in for a nightcap and we'll do our thinking together?”

Maggie bit her lip. “The thing is – ”

Before Maggie could get her key into the lock, the door
opened. Josh loomed in the shadows.

“Thought I heard someone out here,” he said as he
reached out to flip on the hail light. “I was watching television in the study.
Come on in. We can all have coffee or something. You play cards, O'Connor?”

Clay's eyes narrowed with obvious annoyance.

“Sorry, I don't care for cards. Maggie says she has to
get to bed early. I'd better be on my way.” He nodded stiffly to Maggie. “Good
night, honey.”

Maggie smiled anxiously, aware that Clay was upset by
finding Josh at the door. “It was a lovely evening, day.”

“I'll call you.” Clay stalked back down the steps and
out to where his Mercedes was parked.

Josh shook his head sadly. “They all say that.”

Maggie glowered at him as she stepped into the hall.

“In Clay's case, it happens to be true. He will call
me.”

“Yeah, he probably will.” Josh helped her out of her
coat. “Come on into the parlour. I've fixed you a nice cup of hot chocolate.”

“Chocolate. Josh, were you by any chance waiting up for
me? The answer had better be no. Because if I thought for one moment that you
deliberately staged that little scene at the door in order to make Clay go home
early, I'd be furious.”

He gave her an injured look as he limped into the
parlour and turned on one of the lamps. “I thought you might want to discuss
the progress I've made so far on your case.”

Maggie stared at his broad-shouldered back, “You've
actually made some progress?” “You don't have to sound so surprised. It is my
job, you know. How many times do I have to remind you that I am a trained investigator?”

“I don't know why that fact keeps slipping my mind,”
Maggie responded grimly.

Chapter 5

JOSH POURED the hot chocolate he had carefully prepared earlier. As
he did so, he felt the tension that had been eating at him all evening dissolve
at last. It made him realize that he had been waiting for Maggie to return from
the moment she had walked out the door on another man's arm five hours earlier.
It was only sheer willpower that had kept him from actually pacing the floor
for the past hour.

The Colonel, Odessa and Shirley had assured him that
Maggie never stayed out late with Clay O'Connor, but that hadn't relieved
Josh's mind. He knew in his gut that it was just a matter of time before
O'Connor tried to talk Maggie into staying out very late.

Maybe even all night. Josh had seen the determination
in O'Connor's eyes when Maggie had swept into the parlour to greet him at six.
O'Connor was on the make. There was no doubt about it.

During the evening Josh had come to the decision that
Maggie Gladstone was not going to fall into Clay O'Connor's bed while he. Josh,
was anywhere in the vicinity. If she was going to fall into any man's bed, it
was going to be his own, Josh told himself.

He'd known he was attracted to her from the instant he
had seen her. He'd known he wanted her that first night when she had hovered
over his bed, adjusting ice packs. But he'd learned just how severely he was
hooked during the past few hours as he had tortured himself with thoughts of
another man touching her.

The interminable wait for Maggie to come home tonight
had taught Josh that in some subtle way during the past few days, he had come
to think of Maggie as his. The surge of possessiveness he experienced at that
thought made his hand tremble slightly. The pot he was holding rattled against
the rim of Maggie's cup.

Maggie frowned in horror. “Don't drop that, whatever
you do. Aunt Agatha once told me that pot has been in the family for generations.”

“In spite of your obvious opinion to the contrary, I am
not a complete klutz.” Josh set the pot firmly on the end table. He wondered
dourly what McCray and the rest of the staff at BIS would say if they knew his
new client thought him clumsy and accident-prone. Hell of an image he had going
for himself here. Josh reflected.

Maggie smiled with a hint of relieved apology when she
saw that the pot was safe. “It's just that that particular pot is rather
valuable. If I ever do have to sell this place, I'll be counting on making
enough profit from the furnishings to provide the Colonel and the others with
some financial security.”