Part 3 of 10

He also does NOT find the key or the safety deposit box full of incriminating evidence. Lily wants to keep that in her 'back pocket' for now since she is sure she can lead Richard astray with her formidable feminine wiles (which no man has ever managed to resist)(and she doesn't expect any problems with THIS one either!).

She spends the day glued to his side, showering him with silent attention. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to notice her chumminess except to mutter something about 'not here to be a tourist'. She isn't disheartened. He must still be jet-lagged. She isn't worried. He's a mortal male and his downfall is as good as done… soon as his hormones kick in. In the meantime, she has to keep it low-key. She doesn't want anyone else to notice. Especially Fidel.

So, all Richard has is a vase pieced back together with a large inexplicable hole in it, the dummy book, a missing .22 gun, and the puzzle of gunshot then alarm. It is a locked room mystery right out of an Agatha Christie novel and he applies his prodigious brain to the problem but nothing makes sense. He has no way of tying Charlie Hulme to the Salcombe's except for his affair with Sarah. Nevertheless, the Salcombe's remain prime suspects and Richard keeps going over the evidence every way possible.

Without the safety deposit box, he never goes to the yacht, does not meet Camille again, and does not realize she is the 'mystery woman' in the party photo. That's all to the bad. To the good, he doesn't have his first ride in the sidecar, is spared the indignity of being splashed through multiple mud puddles, and doesn't suffer sea-sickness! To the worse; Lily, who shadows his every move and seems to be trying her best to help him but only seems to muddle him somehow. He can't fathom what's wrong… so he ignores it all and tries to focus on the case.

It is now his fourth evening on the island and he is going through that damn crime-scene book yet again and wondering several things at once. Should he order chemical testing on the pages? Should he order up another autopsy? Should he speak to Lily about standing so close all the time? He appreciates her diligence in tending to his needs but, really, there ARE limits to how much attention a DI can be expected to take from his Sergeant! Especially a DI who is trying to solve this murder so he can go back home! He is just thinking that she needs a refresher course on the non-fraternization rules when there is a timid knock at his door and his heart jumps in his chest.

His head shoots up as his scalp tightens. Lily! Is it Lily? She's been hanging on his every word at work and he's beginning to think maybe it's time to start taking Fidel with him everywhere he goes because Lily is starting to make him nervous. It's all very nice to be friendly but she really can NOT visit him after hours. How would that look to his superiors? Or… he gulps… to his mother?

He skips down the steps and throws open the kitchen door with a rebuke on his lips then stutters to a stop and just stares. It isn't Lily. It's that little cleaner-girl in shorter shorts than before (if that is even possible), smiling nervously and twisting from side to side. Somehow, this has a greater effect than Lily's maneuver but his higher brain functions don't register this (his lowers do but he isn't exactly fluent in that section of his physical makeup so misses the clues), he's just so relieved to see her again.

Her beautiful lips part and she babbles, "Um, sorry to bother you after hours like this, I know you're a very busy man but I was wondering… um… can I please have a job? My rent is due and I need the money. I'm real good! I know you can't tell by the state of this place but I kept it pretty clean. Charlie was such a slob that I just couldn't keep up." She hushes, bites her lip, "You're not a slob, are you?"

The silence spins out for several moments before he realizes that he is standing there, hand on the doorknob, and staring at her with his mouth open. He clicks his jaw shut with an tiny audible 'clak' and nods hard, "Oh, oh, yes, of course. Won't you come in?" He steps back, gesturing for her to enter. When she hesitates on the threshold, he puzzles over this then nods to himself. Of course, an innocent young woman SHOULD be cautious when entering a strange man's home. "Right," he assures her, "Let's walk around to the veranda, in full public view, and discuss this."

She gives him an incredulous look. He's worried about MY reputation? Hah! What a joker. Then she sees he's serious and frowns. Before he closes the door, she glances in, and is amazed! The kitchen is spotless. Her eyes dive to the floor. Not a speck of sand anywhere. She blinks then allows him to escort her around the side of the little house and up the veranda steps.

As he seats her then seats himself, he says, "Now, you need a job and I need a cleaner. I think we can help one another. When can you start?"

She shakes her head, "Do you really need one? Who cleaned up in there since yesterday, a tornado?"

He fidgets minutely before admitting, "Um, I did. It's a fault of mine, I can't stand disorder but I also can't spare time from my job so I'd be very happy to hand it over to you." He stands, opens a veranda door and waves a hand, "Look around, if you like." She comes to his side, steps in as he continues, "See how I've done it? Do you think you can keep the place as I need?"

She stoops to one knee, runs a fingertip along the floor, brings it up in front of her eyes. She isn't sure she CAN but she smiles and nods, "Oh, yes, sir, anything you want, sir. I can keep this place neat as a pin plus I can wash and iron your clothes, maybe do your shopping, take your suits to the cleaner." She stands, dusts her hands, and intones, "The only thing I DON'T do is…"

For an awful frozen moment, Richard is sure she is going to say 'sleep with the boss' because, even though he's trying very hard not to think it, he's thinking it anyway. He is unmercifully attracted to this young woman and he can't seem to get his libido under control… not that it shows. The suit, you know.

She takes a little breath and finishes, "… windows."

She grins and laughs and he flushes with relief. Oh, a joke! She made a joke… because… he snorts a laugh himself… because this place HAS no windows. Well, a bathroom window but its small and I can wipe it with a towel every day so no problem. "OK," he replies with a small smile, "no windows. It's a deal. Now, what are your rates?"

END – part 3