Alright, so obviously, my mother was lying when she said I would have "plenty of time for writing" while on the cruise, because I did absolutely NO writing while on that ship. I did, however have an awesome time. We went to six ports in New Caledonia and Vanuatu including Noumea, Lifou, Mystery Island, Walla, Champagne Bay and Port Villa. Best Snorkelling was at Mystery Island (though the only other place we snorkelled at was Walla), and the best beach HAD to be Champagne Bay (located on Espiritu Santo, same island used in the filming of Blue Lagoon). Absolutely pristine waters and powdery sand. B-E-A-UTIFUL. Anyway. I got back this morning, and this evening I started writing this chapter. Now here it is. Let me know if you understand the fat-kid part, 'cos Shreek was confused by it, but I thought it was pretty straight forward.

Chapter 7

After half an hour at the museum I'd been reduced to a steaming pile of OMG-WTF-is-wrong-with-my-life, and ended up taking out my phone to Facebook while I trailed behind Mom, occasionally adding a mildly-interested-sounding comment just so that she didn't think I was completely bored. Which I was, BTW. Like, completely and utterly dying of boredom. The interesting in my life was slowly being sucked out along with my brain and maybe even a couple of vital organs. But hey, who needs those when you're dead?

We'd paused at the hadrosaurus exhibit and Mom was yabbering on about something vaguely dinosaur related from when she was a kid – hehe, she was probably telling me about the pet dinosaur she had when she was five – when my phone dinged informing me that someone had PM'd me on Facebook.

David Hey. How are you holding up?

Now, ordinarily, if a hot guy starts a conversation with me, even on Facebook, I do a little happy dance and promptly reply. However, given the recent circumstances surrounding this particular hot guy, I was exercising my fat-kid caution. Fat-kid caution because it doesn't get exercise, not because it's the caution of a fat-kid. I didn't chase down a fat-kid and steal his caution. That would be mean. I took a moment to clear my head of the predictable "Oh! He's talking to ME!" urges and responded with calm.

Mab – Pretty good, all things considered. How about you? How's the transport situation.

David – My old pushbike still works, amazingly.

Mab – At least you're staying in shape. :P

David – True that.

There was a lull in our conversation then, allowing me to gaze blankly at the whales hanging from the ceiling as Mom led me to another boring part of the museum.

David – What are you doing tonight?

Again, my internal alarm system was of two minds. The first wanted to jump for joy and the second wanted to turn the phone off and hide under a nearby bench, hoping he doesn't find me. Of course, both of those would look a little ridiculous because a) I was in a museum and getting excited enough to exert physical energy is not allowed (or at least that's what I kept telling myself), and b) he's probably got a trace on my phone that still works even when the phone is turned off. Or maybe my mind was just overreacting. Okay, say he really is a nice guy and just wants to take me out for dinner, am I really okay with a summer fling? Especially since I have no idea how long it could possibly last. Mom could drag my ass straight back home at any moment. How would I deal with that if I let my heart open up to David?

Shaking my head as we paused at the seashell display, I decided that I was over thinking things. It was probably best to keep things as simple as possible.

Mab – At this rate, trying desperately to deflate my boredom gland.

David – Sounds like a job for Davey Boy *insert superhero stance here, complete with fluttering cape and spandex*

I had to laugh out loud at that. I really did like him. I was just freaked out by all the stuff that had happened in the last three days. My life had almost literally gone to hell in a hand basket, and it seemed that I'd forgotten my sun block and a snack.

So the official consensus was that David was alright, even if freaky things happened when I was around him. And as a result, I decided that if he were to ask me ou- DING!

Startled out of my thoughts by the noise my phone made, I glanced down to find another message for Davey Boy.

David – Are you still there? I didn't scare you off with my nerdiness, did I?

I typed a quick reply and was surprised when he messaged me back almost immediately.

Mab – Of course not. Nerdiness is kind of cute.

David – Wanna have dinner with me tonight?

I watched as Mom explained to a tour guide that the information she was giving her patrons was incorrect and imagined the kind of night we would have if we spent it together. Picture this: Me, cross-legged on the couch. Mom sitting at the table. Both of us with boxes of Chinese food. Mom is rambling on about the inconsistencies in the information and timelines of the museum displays. I am pretending to listen while trying not to roll my eyes because deep down I know it'd really hurt her if she knew that Rangeman was letting me into their secret little circle in order to investigate her.

Yeah, that's a pleasant evening.

Decision made, I typed my answer and waited for another reply while I read the length "Do Not" sign pinned to the wall next to one of the entrances.

*o*

Stephanie sat at the desk in her small cubicle, trying to avoid her husband. She'd been lucky this morning when she woke up in that Ranger had already been for his morning run and had apparently been called away on an urgent job. Tank had informed her that the earliest he would be back was mid afternoon at which point he would need to fill in a ream of paperwork regarding the job then. So that gave her about six hours, during which time she had to somehow figure out exactly why Ranger was looking into Leah and her husband.

How had he found out about her? Why was he investigating her? Why hadn't he simply asked her about it? Furthermore, you'd think that a master security guy who does full background checks on people, uncovering their hidden secrets all the time would have picked it up ages ago, wouldn't you? Maybe he had. Maybe he'd been respecting her in not asking but had gotten so curious that he couldn't not investigate any longer. But again, why not just ask her?

Her Spidey Sense was tingling, but she couldn't for the life of her work out what was wrong. Probably, she should have paid more attention when Salvatore was showing her how to work the computers. Surely he'd explained how to search the search history. If Steph could have accessed the searches the guys had done on Leah and her family she might have been able to work it all out without the guys knowing.

As it stands, though, she had a very poor attention span.

"So," she said cheerily, plopping down in an empty chair next to Hal at the monitors. Being that Hal wasn't the brightest bulb, he was, of course, her first port of call. If she was going to have any luck getting information without anyone knowing that's what she was doing, it would be with Hal. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," he replied, sending her a sideways glance. "Just doing monitor duty."

"Ahh." Steph nodded her understanding. "Anything new and interesting happen lately?"

He glanced at her again, no doubt wondering what her intentions were for this conversation. "Cases in, cases out. The usual," he explained.

"What cases do we have on the table at the moment?" she pressed.

Confused, Hal gestured to the wall covered in cork board where they pinned a summary of each case they had on the go. All employees were expected to be aware of basic details of most or all of the cases. If Steph wanted to know about the cases she could have easily walked the extra ten steps and found out for herself.

"It's not up there though, is it?" she intoned slyly, trying to make out that she was in on his little secret, despite not knowing if she was or not.

Hal's voice cracked a little as he replied, "What's not up there, Steph?"

"The secret case you're working on," she whispered. "It would hardly be a secret if it was up on the wall, now would it?" Hal shook his head but said nothing, waiting for her to ask the questions he had a feeling were coming next. "So what's the deal with this Leah person? Is she a client? Or are we looking into her for a client?"

Steph could almost see the cog turning in Hal's head as he tried to think of a way to phrase his answer that would neither give anything away or incriminate him should the Boss find out he'd been speaking to her about the case. He wasn't that dumb. He knew that secrecy meant secrecy, even from the manipulative woman they'd all developed a weak spot for.

"Whacha talkin' 'bout?" Lester asked, spinning across the comm. floor in his desk chair and coming to stop just behind the pair.

Hal breathed a sigh of relief and turned his full attention back to the monitors without another word. Steph huffed and turned to Lester, putting on her best pout.

"Who's this Leah woman you're investigating."

Lester didn't fall for it for a minute. He narrowed his eyes and replied coolly, "Why don't you tell me who this Leah woman is?"

Steph shook her head. "I can't. Not until you tell me why you're investigating her."

"She came here looking for you," he said shortly. "You know her, I presume and there's some kind of secret to do with her that you're keeping from Ranger, hence the reason you went very pale and fainted when her name was mentioned. How do you know her?"

"We met in college," Steph explained rather evasively, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair. "Well, I was in college anyway."

"How did you meet?" Lester asked, sounding almost curious as he pulled a candy bar from his pocket.

"Oh no you don't," Steph warned him. "Don't think for a minute that I'm going to spill my guts for one measly little candy bar."

Lester looked at the king sized chocolate, a little surprised. "Name your price," he uttered without thinking.

*o*

David picked me up at six (in his Uncle's car, not on the push bike. I know, I was worried about that for a while too) and took me to the arcade. Yes. That's right. The arcade. I kid you not. We dined on first class, half stale French Fries while discussing David's video game habits. Apparently he'd held the high score on Poppin' Dinos for two years and he kept beating it. It had gotten to the stage where he was the only name that appeared on the scoreboard. Now, ordinarily, I might think that was extremely lame and try to find a way to end the date immediately. But this was David. Somehow he made is seem awesome.

So he showed me his scores and demonstrated how he played then allowed me to have a go at beating his score.

Now, let me just stress that I had never in my life played this game before, nor had I even heard of it prior to entering this Arcade. David coached me through the first couple of levels, giving me hints and tips while I learned how to play. Then, once it appeared I'd gotten the hang of it, he went and got us some drinks while I continued to play. I was still playing the same game when he returned. And it was still going when we finished our Colas. His eyes were bugged out, taking in the speed at which I popped the dinos and the way my score kept increasing. Something told me I was in danger of beating his score if this persisted.

I'd just cleared yet another level when my cell phone began to ring in my pocket. I went to pull my hand away from the game in order to answer it, but David pushed it back onto the controls. "Don't answer it," he urged. "You're too close. You can't throw this away."

I spared a moment to glance in his direction. "What if it's my Mom?" I worried.

"She'll leave a message."

"She doesn't like when I don't answer my phone, it worries her."

David gave me a look that I caught out of the corner of my eye as I continued to pop the dinosaurs on the screen. "How about this?" he offered. "I'll check the caller ID and if it's your Mom, I'll answer it. If it's not, we'll let it go to voice mail."

I nodded and braced myself for his roaming hand. He placed it gently on my hip first and assured me, "I am not getting fresh, I'm just reaching for your phone." Again, I nodded, but said nothing. He dipped his hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone, checking the display as it continued ringing. After a brief moment, he frowned and answered the phone. "Amabel's phone, David speaking." Pause. "She's busy at the moment." Pause. "Okay, I'll let her know." He hung up and slid the phone away again. "That was a guy named Lester, he said to meet him in the alleyway tomorrow when you arrive. You're not into drugs, are you?"

Completely and utterly shocked, I turned to face him fully, game forgotten. "What?" I managed to gasp, wide eyed and staring as the game made those completely dismal LOSER sounds behind me. "Of course I'm not into drugs! What kind of idiot do you think I am?"

"It just sounded suspicious," he replied. "Very covert. Sorry."

"It's fine," I muttered, turning back the screen that was now flashing my score, which just happened to be the new high score. I grinned over at David.

"Oh, it is on!" he declared, shoving me aside and inserting a quarter into the machine.

Thanks for reading yet another chapter. Please take the time to review. Your feedback is a valuable source of encouragement.