AN: Once again, perhaps against my better judgement, I have changed the rating on this story. It's a tentative T again, and anything more will be rated "M" accordingly by chapter. IF that happens, and the main rating changes again just uh, don't comment on it. I'm going through it shfhssdfshs. Thanks again for the reviews I will get to those. Soon. mm heart emoji

More tension and stuff, but hopefully we can push past the 2nd ep soon and get into faster time skips. There are Plans.

/

"That must've been one hell of a rummage sale," said Dotty West.

Amanda's head couldn't have sunk lower if she tried. She brought her kitting up to her nose, pretending to fiddle with a loose stitch. The yarn jittered as she handled the needles. She'd had a man's blood on her hands not six hours ago, and that wasn't easily forgotten.

"Um, yeah. It was a long one."

"What were the profits?" she asked swiftly.

"I don't remember. A lot."

"Who was it for again? Do you know that Dean called three times last night?"

"Golly… Mother, does this look right?" Amanda said, diverting the conversation to tamer waters. She held up a snippet of scarf for Dotty to see.

"It looks perfectly fine. Dear, I hate to nag, but you really shouldn't slump like that—terrible for your posture."

Hiding her grin, Amanda straightened in place. Dotty may be shrewd, but she was easily distracted.

There was a clatter from above as Jamie and Phillip stampeded downstairs. Only Amanda's authoritative calls for "no running in the house" made them slow. They circuited around the couch and tumbled into a heap, grappling and giggling. Dotty watched them for a spell, then glanced up, eyes flashing.

"Edna claims she saw you roll in around five last night."

"Edna Gilstrap has a vivid imagination and is a gossipmonger to boot. Remember when she called me all in a tizzy because she thought Joe was working with the mob?"

"That's true," Dotty conceded, though she didn't sound convinced. "In any case, we're running low on greens in this house. Supermarket trip with Phillip and Jamie?"

The boys converged like bloodhounds, crowding around the couch and yelping their excitement. Phillip pleaded near Amanda's ear for Cocoa Puffs. At the same time, Jamie tentatively submitted his own requests for shopping.

Amanda agreed to it all, eager to escape any more rapid-fire questions.

/

The more time Amanda spent with Lee, the more she began to understand him. Lee was a private person by nature, but he had many quirks, some of which only manifested when they were alone. He tended to pace and mess with his hair when he was agitated, he only took coffee in the morning, and he liked to talk through his thoughts when a case had him stumped.

Currently, he was engrossed in the latter. Amanda listened patiently as he relayed every definitive fact that they knew. There wasn't much, but between the two of them, they were piecing together a clearer picture of Connie Beth Cosmetics.

"What do you suppose Betty Bodine did that got her in trouble with the company?" Lee asked, setting down his mug.

The man had situated himself at the kitchen table. One chair was occupied by his coat, one his rear, and another for his feet. The remains of today's lunch were strewn over the wood—egg salad sandwiches with cucumber slices.

"I'm not sure," Amanda said.

She leaned over him, cleared the table, and bustled back to the sink. After the dishes were accounted for she began packing herself a leftover sandwich for later in the day. With the Connie Beth meeting, she wouldn't have a chance to make herself dinner. Amanda thought best when her hands were busy, and right now, her mind was a-whirl.

Somewhere in the back of her head, a theory started to take shape.

"You know that busted hairdryer I found in the bathroom? Maybe it has something to do with that."

"How so?" asked Lee.

He took another swig of coffee, looking rather bored. To his credit, though, he didn't shut her down. Usually Lee projected caution or contempt towards her ideas. Maybe they were making progress on this "partner" stuff. But then again, maybe that was a bit optimistic.

Before Amanda knew it, her mouth was running away from her.

"Picture this: Betty is fresh out of a shower with wet hair, an expensive perm and no hairdryer. She's desperate. If she doesn't do something soon, it's going to frizz all out. But out in the garage, she's got boxes and boxes of those hairdryers…" She sucked in a great gust then was off again. "So what does she do? I'll tell you what she does—she goes out there and she opens one of the special boxes. And that's what Harriet tells the company and that's what gets her in trouble and that's what gets her killed!"

Lee blinked, dumbstruck. As the seconds wore on, Amanda drooped more and more, shoulders lifting like a shelter.

"That bad, huh?"

"No, no that's good," Lee said.

Unexpected pleasure washed over her as she realized that the look on his face was one of excitement, not cynicism.

"Really?"

Grunting, Lee drained the last of his coffee before jotting something down in his notebook. The compliment passed by like a blip on the radar.

"You said that Judy and Harriet were making some deliveries today? For their international clients?"

"That's right," Amanda answered.

"Maybe I oughta keep an eye on them…" He hauled himself from his chair, snatched his coat, and draped it over one shoulder. Just before heading to the door, he rounded on her. "You want me to pick up some groceries for dinner?"

"No no that's alright. I have a…" She drifted off as Lee took her hand. "Connie Beth… sales… meeting…"

Hating herself for it, Amanda dropped her gaze to the floor. No matter what either of them did, she couldn't seem to get him out of her system. Sleeping with a spy… She'd never done anything so crazy in all her life. Then again, it paled in comparison to breaking into a post office and hijacking a helicopter.

One thing was for sure—Lee Stetson brought out the best and worst in her.

"You sure there isn't anything I can get you?" he asked in a gravelly undertone.

Amanda's eyes meandered to his hands. A vision flashed in her mind of those same hands interlaced with hers atop a counter. Red rose through her cheeks as she remembered the way she'd squeaked and keened into the darkness.

"Lee, you are working right now-"

"I see no reason why we can't work and play..."

The rasp of his voice, so near her ear, sent her lungs a-flutter. She couldn't help remembering what they'd done the last time they were alone in a kitchen. She swallowed down the knot in her throat and stifled a whimper.

"Whose mind is in the gutter now?" The retort sounded weak even in her own ears.

"Remember the way we kissed?" His teeth grazed her ear. "Or how you had your way with me on the couch?"

For just a split second, Amanda forgot all about hollow objections and present responsibilities. Then the moment passed and she pushed flusteredly on his chest, voice quaking.

"Don't you have a job to do, Mr. Morton?"

Lee actually managed to look somewhat shame-faced, although Amanda couldn't tell how much of that was fabricated for her benefit. He certainly wasn't contrite just a few seconds ago. She squinted at him with suspicion, analyzing every muscle and contour. The tic above his upper lip told her all she needed to know.

"You're laughing at me."

"I absolutely am not."

"Maybe not out loud, but you're laughing in your head. In your heart," she said with a pout. Lee mimicked her petulant expression but was unable to hide the mirth tugging at his lips.

"Now honey, that's hardly fair. You have a good day at the sales meeting, alright?"

Shooting her one last, hangdog look, he left the room.