Thomas

Now wasn't the time to ask Daisy questions; I knew too much about the effects of a period on a woman's mood to take the risk, especially since there was a gun involved. Still I was kind of touched that I could help out a little, and I made it a point to leave the Midol bottle out on the kitchen counter for her to find later.

I listened again to the messages on my machine and returned TC's call. He wanted to know if I had the money I owed him and because I actually did I made it a point to drive out and pay him back, hanging out for a while and building up a little goodwill. The secret to being able to borrow money is paying it back consistently and while I've relied on his goodwill more than once it does feel good to do the right thing.

When I got back it was late afternoon; Higgins came out to meet me, and he didn't look happy. That's his default look so I wasn't surprised, but his first words startled me.

"The Lads are restless," he told me. "And I am concerned."

"Restless how?" I wanted to know. Much as I had a grudging tolerance for the Dobermans I didn't actually dislike them. They were all in all good dogs when they weren't affectionately threatening my hamstrings.

"They have retrieved several dead birds of late and seem especially uneasy after dark. I suspect someone is using an ultrasonic whistle in the vicinity," Higgins replied, looking out along the estate wall. "I'm loathe to let them out after nightfall."

I followed his sightline and nodded. "Let me have a look on the other side of the perimeter and see if I can spot anything."

Higgins nodded. "That would be most appreciated. I know you aren't particularly fond of Zeus and Apollo but they're only doing the job they were bred to do, and cannot be faulted for that."

I nodded. "I may not find anything, but it's worth a look."

I'd done a few perimeter checks before but hadn't done one in a while so I started from the beach side and worked my way around the stone walls and foliage-covered fence. I saw a lot of geckos and lizards but nothing else particularly suspicious until I got to the corner near Kalaniana'ole highway where the oleander and hibiscus form an added hedge. The space between the fencing and the bushes made a natural shelter and I noted the dirt underfoot was disturbed. Nothing incriminating like a cigarette butt, but I could sense someone had been here, and recently. Just a vibe, but it left me wary as well.

I made a note to stay up and check again after dark.

After confirming as much to Higgins I called the client—Aaron Santos- asking about the marriage counseling scam and got the details. Seems he and his wife had been duped into attending a retreat at the Rolling Waves hotel and had been talked into a few therapy sessions that resulted in photos of the blackmail variety. Fortunately he and his wife had reached their own sort of breakthrough and refused to pay, but now they wanted someone to check into the counselors and possibly get them shut down.

Not normally my sort of case, really, but there were two factors that made me consider it: firstly, having just repaid TC I was short on funds again, and secondly, I had a fake wife so I could manage the undercover part of it. I told Santos I'd call back in twenty-four hours with a decision. If Daisy was willing to play along, as she'd offered, I'd have a pretty good chance of getting enough evidence to crack it. And hanging out at the Rolling Waves might be nice, if only for a night or two.

I was considering what to do for dinner when Daisy showed up at the door and it took me a moment say anything because she was gold. As in, completely gold. Face, shoulders, arms . . . the woman was wearing shorts and a tank top and I could see where the splatters of the paint ended at her shoulder straps. Honestly? It took a lot of effort on my part not to stare at the gleam of her cleavage. She hadn't sprayed her hair though, so that was still dark red, and looked pretty good contrasting with the paint.

"I'm pretty sure Jill Masterson was a blonde," I couldn't help pointing out.

Daisy made a face. "A peroxide one. I need help with the back of my legs, and this isn't the sort of thing I can ask Higgins to assist with."

"No," I agreed. "Ah, dumb question but why? Are you auditioning for a Bond film?"

"I wish," Daisy sighed, and told me about the Golden Doll Suntan lotion commercial. We went down to the beach and she handed me the spray can. I knelt down, feeling a little weird but Daisy was chattering away and I . . . sprayed.

This was a woman I now knew was involved with bondage. A woman with a hidden gun and a hidden agenda and I was painting her extremely nice legs . . . gold.

Life gets weird sometimes.

Anyway just as I finished, I heard the fading hiss of the canister and warned her, "I think you're out of paint."

"Yeah they only gave me the one can," Daisy sighed. "Still, most of me is covered and it's not itchy. How do I look?"

"Like you should be dating an Oscar."

"That would be as close as I'll ever get to one," she sighed, holding out an arm. "Ah well. I'll give it an hour and then shower it off I guess."

"Kind of a waste," I pointed out. "You should get a couple of photos at least."

So that's how we ended up doing an impromptu shoot on the lawn in the fading light. After the first couple of shots, Higgins came out and the sight of him staring at Daisy was nearly everything I hoped it would be.

"Miss Munro . . ." he began, and sort of stopped.

"Does this remind you of the time in Burma, when you hid from invading forces in a carved alcove behind a twenty foot Buddha of solid gold?" I asked him in my most innocent voice.

"No, although I seem to recall . . ." he started and then snapped. "However now is not the time. Miss Munro, why on earth are you covered in paint?"

"Because in a few days I'm going to be jumping out of a helicopter onto a floating target to help sell suntan lotion of course," Daisy replied. "Isn't it obvious?"

I could barely hold the camera still as Higgins blinked. "Not really, no."

"Ah, well that's often the case," Daisy replied. "So what's making the dogs upset?"

Higgins looked at me and I shook my head; I hadn't said a word to her.

"Maybe you haven't noticed but they're kind of off their usual mood. Zeus almost snapped at me the other day," Daisy went on. "Are they okay?"

Higgins sighed. "I'm not certain what might be agitating them, Miss Munro, but Magnum and I are looking into the matter. Rest assured your safety is paramount. May I assume you will be needing extra towels when the time comes to . . . de-gild yourself?"

"Yes, old ones if you can spare them," Daisy agreed. "Thank you. In truth, you're a very good sport, Mr. Higgins."

He gave her a brief smile, gave me a stern look, and slipped back into the house.

Daisy shook her head, grinning. "Why do I get the feeling he puts up with a lot more around here than meets the eye?"

"Mostly because he does," I admitted, grinning back. I was starting to like this woman.

Daisy

It took about an hour to get all the gold off of me, and even then I was sure I'd have smudges and traces in a lot of places I wouldn't see until morning. I gave up, dried off and went to sleep, straight into a nightmare.

Isaac of course, coming after me and lying in that oh so soft voice of his. I managed to evade him or so I thought—at the last minute I struggled, only to wake up, tangled in the sheet.

So I cried a little and went out on the roof.

One of the nicer parts of Hawaii is the night sky; you could really see the stars and the moonlight lit the slow incoming waves. I watched them for a while, letting my breathing calm down, wishing I was tied up. Just a little. Enough to zone me out a bit and relax. That was part of the problem right there of course. Some people had valium or booze or weed; I had to be the one with a restraint response.

I got up and was about to make my way back into the window when I heard a noise, so moving carefully I peeked around the corner of the house, making sure I had a good grip on the sill as I leaned out.

From that position I could see the side lawn, and the stone fence around it looking peaceful in the moonlight. I could see the guesthouse too, and part of the highway . . . and Magnum. He was crouched low in the shadow of the guesthouse porch and seemed to be focused towards the gate.

I listened hard. Right on the edge of my hearing I thought I heard something that wasn't rustling palms or rolling waves. Just the faintest hint of a pitch that my mother would have heard easily. I looked towards the road.

Magnum sprinted across the lawn just as I did and managed the distance quicker than I would have guessed, side hopping the fence and diving into the hibiscus with a rustle of branches. I wondered what the hell he was doing when suddenly the sounds of a fight carried through the night.

I made it through the window, down the stairs and out onto the lawn myself in short order, stopping short when I heard a seriously pained grunt and then the rev of an engine. I darted forward, aware that I didn't have a weapon but not willing to run just yet. When I jumped and peeked over the wall, I saw Magnum on the ground, nose bloody as a car took off.

"How badly are you hurt?" I asked, sliding over the wall to help him sit up. He gave a shake of his head, flinging a few blood drops as he got to his feet.

"I'm okay," he told me, glaring after the car. "What are you doing out here?"

"Chasing after you," I pointed out. "You're not the only one who stays up after midnight once in a while. Who was that?"

Magnum didn't answer me, but he waved to a spot near the wall, and I saw something in the dirt: A dog whistle.

-oo00oo—

What it came down to was that I had to go in to talk to Lieutenant Tanaka, and explain exactly why I was at Robin's Nest. I would have preferred to do that privately, but Magnum pointed out that since he was in charge of estate security—technically anyway—he was within the 'need to know' circle.

"I . . . worked in Los Angeles for a private club that catered to people in the, ah, upper tax bracket," I sighed. "Not an escort service or anything sexual, just so you understand. More along the lines of exotic entertainment. Anyway, to make a long story short one client ended up getting infatuated with me and I . . . didn't handle it well. I ended up taking a leave of absence from the club in hopes that he would leave me alone."

"Exotic entertainment," the lieutenant repeated, and looked at me.

"Nyotaimori," I murmured. "Balloons. Bikini boxing. All looking, no touching."

All of us were blushing now.

The lieutenant looked at me. "Kinbaku?"

I nodded, and he shook his head. "Damn it, Miss Munro, my guess is that you've got a stalker. I can arrange for a few more patrols along the highway but beyond that unless something happens . . ."

"Nothing will," Magnum broke in. "Now that we know he's out there we'll catch him."

"Isaac isn't violent," I told them. "Just . . . obsessive. And we don't actually know it's him. There could be other people interested in getting onto the estate."

"Yeah well I'm going with Occam's Razor on this one, Miss Munro," the lieutenant murmured. "In the meantime I'd like you to fill out a report."

He left to get the paperwork and I risked a look at Magnum.

He looked wary. "I wish you'd told me right from the start."

"And get the look from you I'm getting right now?" I shot back. "No thanks. Whatever you think you know about me is wrong, Magnum. I'm not a hooker, I'm not a gold digger and I'm not a damsel in distress. I can take care of this myself."

"I know," he replied, and that startled me. I stared at him and Magnum added, "But maybe some backup would be a good idea."

(NOTE: Nyotaimori is the art of eating sushi off a naked woman's body.)