Thomas

Part of working in Intelligence was the understanding that even the biggest network is composed of individuals. Human beings. That all of the data coming in comes from people who sleep and eat and drink and live lives that might be similar or very different from yours, but that they were all individuals.

Every person is different. If I had to use an example, I'd choose say, myself and Higgins. We're both men, we're both veterans, we both have mustaches. But under those superficial similarities, we're incredibly separate people. I like sports, and pulp fiction and Dutch beer while Higgins likes opera and military history and a fancy glass of Madeira in the evenings. I like a casual approach to life while he's a lot more dedicated to agendas and schedules.

And down underneath even those aspects are the drives and desires that form a person. Layers we don't often think about or consider because some of it's not noble or admirable. Things that have made us what we are. For me a lot of it centers on loss. What's down in Higgin's murk I can't say but if I had to guess it's probably a lot of loneliness.

Point being, every person has a darker side and how we deal with it says a lot about who we are. Higgins has capped his and keeps a close watch on it. Me, I lock it up because going down into that cesspool never does me much good. Oh I can't avoid it all the time, and I've gotten to a point where I have to set aside a day or two to deal with it on my own because I know if I don't it will catch up with me when I least expect it to. I cope with Dad and Mac and Michelle during those times.

I'm also well-aware I have the potential to be an evil person. I've tapped into it a few times. Not proud of that, but at the time the ends justified the means and I made the choice not only to use that darkness, but to claw my way back out of it too.

I bring this up because libido is a part of that baggage we all carry. Men never fully lose the capacity to be animals and while we don't admit it, we're all fascinated by the darker side of sex. As an Intelligence officer I had more than my share of exposure to it through reports and briefings and honey traps set by and set for the enemy. Long-winded but what I'm getting at is yes, I knew something about bondage.

And I was starting to suspect that Daisy did too.

Which suddenly made the address in Holmby Hills a lot more interesting along with the years that she was there. If my suspicions were correct, then our guest here at Robin's Nest had a background much more out of the ordinary.

Kind of a dilemma. By rights she was entitled to her privacy. I got that. But at the same time, part of me was curious and worried. Why was she here? What had brought her away from California and to Hawaii? What sort of place had she come from?

And most persistent of all: was she really . . . that way?

It nagged at me, despite my trying to push the thought away. I worked at staying busy for the next few weeks, putting in time on the range, hanging out with TC and Rick, going for long trips out on the water. But the harder I tried to run from the question, more it got in my face.

Part of it was natural nosiness. Part of it was the need for answers. Part of it I didn't want to look at too closely, afraid of seeing something in myself I wasn't ready to stare at.

-oo—

Higgins roped me into helping set up for the High Tea Fundraiser, which wasn't a big deal since it meant moving lawn furniture and getting on his good side while doing it. Sometimes being tall helps, and in this case I knew I owed him the favor so I strung tea lights and patiently shifted things to the right or to the left according to Agatha's wishes. At least she's sweet about it so I don't mind as much.

I hadn't seen much of Daisy since her quick exit from the kitchen a few weeks back and that was fine. I'd gotten word of Arlene Bremer's arrest for arson at the Sweet Wind Condominiums along with Irv Bremer's arrest for unlicensed ore mining and somehow managed to have her check to clear before either of them could think to cancel it. Most of the money went straight back out again towards bills but that was nothing new in my world.

Since the High Tea was a big deal I knew enough to make myself scarce, so after I got the tables and umbrellas up I headed back to the guest house all the better to lose myself in a novel. As I passed through the living room though, I spotted Daisy coming my way in a pale dress.

I'd never seen her in a dress before. It was . . . frilly. Very light fluffy stuff. Girly, in a word. And because I was used to Daisy being in shorts or jeans this new look threw me for a moment. "Ah, hi."

"Hi," she returned, looking a little strained. "I feel like an idiot."

"You don't look like one," I assured her, noting her dark red hair was pinned up with a few tempting little curls along the base of her neck. "You're going to the party, huh?"

"Agatha invited me," Daisy admitted. "She and I have a mutual friend and I guess she was . . . encouraged to keep an eye on me." There was resentment in that tone right there.

"Friends look out for each other," I reminded her. "And the food will be good. I may have to check out any leftovers later on. In fact-"

"Yes I'll save you some," Daisy snickered and like that she was smiling again. "Oh! Higgins wanted you to bring down a few of the citronella lamps from the attic when you could . . ." she called over her shoulder.

I sighed. "On it."

The lamps were in a cardboard box, clearly marked in Higgins' handwriting. I shifted it, all the better to get a good grip before carrying it down when something else in the attic caught my eye and I stared.

I knew most of the stuff up here—I'd made it a point to check out the attic when I'd first moved in, mostly so I'd be aware of any vulnerable access points to the estate. Higgins was good about the ground level but I knew from experience that trouble could come from unexpected directions, and it made sense to know the full layout of the house. The attic ran the length of the roof and while did didn't have windows there were a few ventilation grids on either end well protected by the eaves. That meant there wasn't much light other than the overhead bulb.

And in that light right now I was looking at an unfamiliar suitcase.

Daisy

'It's a small world' isn't just a saying or a ride in Disneyland; it's a reality. I had no idea that Agatha Chumley and my former employer Jane Buchanan knew each other but given that they were both British women of a certain age I guess it was more likely than not. And just as I liked Jane, I liked Agatha as well—she was friendly in that slightly dotty expat way. I hadn't intended on going to the High Tea but it was her personal invitation that did it.

We shared a table while we waited for the other guests to show up, and Agatha asked me about myself. I gave her my scripted answers but something in her smile told me she probably knew what Jane's business was in Hollywood.

"She was always the high-spirited one," Agatha murmured. "Ringleader of everything. Jane once talked me into practicing my archery on the coconuts outside of Miss Paddington's Academy just to annoy the groundskeeper."

"Sounds like her," I agreed. "So how long have you lived in Hawaii?"

"Oooh, ages. Father brought us here shortly after my sister and I were born in Battersea. About every five years or so we'd go for an extended visit but always returned. My parents were extremely fond of these islands."

"Were you here during . . . ?" I wasn't sure how to ask, but Agatha knew what I meant and nodded.

"Oh yes. I was twelve at the time. Terribly frightening, seeing all those ships sinking in the harbor," she murmured and I could see her expression shift, her eyes magnified behind her big lenses. "Mother, Charlotte, and I volunteered at the hospital, mostly stocking supplies since all the orderlies and nurses were with patients. My father was managing the Grand sugar plantation in Waipahu and we didn't see him for nearly two weeks after the attack."

I laid a hand on hers out of sympathy; she squeezed it and smiled a moment later. "It's all right, you know—I'm not afraid to talk about it. It's important to remember these things."

It was a great afternoon. I met several lovely people, and even got to play croquet—I was on Higgin's team—in the fundraiser part of the tea. By the time it was dark and the guests were gone I was in a pretty mellow mood and feeling happy. As promised, I made a big plate of the best leftovers and carried it over to the guest house, hoping Magnum hadn't lied about liking cucumber and watercress sandwiches. He answered the door and invited me in, offering up one of his beers.

"So how was it?" he wanted to know.

"Fun," I admitted. "I like Agatha, and while I suck at croquet at least we didn't come in last."

"Higgins would have been massively cranky if you had," Magnum agreed, handing me a bottle. "It's one of his blood sports."

That made me laugh, mostly because Magnum was right. Higgins had tucked his croquet mallet under one arm like a crop while he gave us our pep talk and the image stuck with me.

"It was still a blast. And Agatha is very gracious," I mused. "Did you know she was here in Hawaii during Pearl Harbor?"

"No," Magnum admitted, looking a little startled. "Really?"

"As a girl, but yeah," I took another sip of the beer. "Talk about living through history."

"To hear Higgins talk, he's lived through most of it everywhere else," Magnum told me with one of those quick grins of his. He uncovered the plate of sandwiches and as we went through our beers he ate most of them. Nicely though, not just jamming them down the way some guys would have. It was twilight now, and I was starting to feel comfortable, lounging on the sofa and enjoying the beer.

"So why are you here?" Magnum asked me finally in one of those conversational lulls. "In Hawaii I mean. It's got an entertainment industry but not a big one. Not enough for full-time work, anyway."

I sighed, rolling the bottle between my hands. "You got me. I'm . . . laying low and avoiding . . . a man."

"Oh," he managed a gentle tone. "One of those stories."

"Not quite," I sighed. "I'm not in danger . . . really. He'll find someone new if I stay out of the picture. Not the only fish in the sea, not the only nawashi around, you know?"

"Ah, yeah," Magnum murmured, taking the empty bottle from me. "Well you're safe here."

"Mostly," I agreed, yawning a little. "Sorry; I'm susceptible to beer and I ought to go to bed. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Thanks for the sandwiches," he told me. "Need me to walk you to the house?"

I made a face at him. "I may be in a dress but I'm not THAT girly. I can make it there just fine. Night, Magnum."

And yeah, I got to my room, took a shower and got into bed, feeling pretty good. It didn't hit me until after I was thinking back on the day that something was a little out of place. Was it something I did? Something I said?

It took me a while to drop off.