The Private Eye

eyes with her napkin. “It's just that every time I think about him, I get scared.”
    Josh sighed and turned to Maggie. “Do you know who this Ricky is?”
    “He's a gangster,” Maggie muttered, looking embarrassed. “Shirley says she used to be his, uh, girlfriend.”
    “That's right,” Shirley sniffed. “Ricky 'The Wrecker’ Ring. Twenty years ago they didn't call him 'The Wrecker’ for nothin', you know. But he was a gentleman, through and through. Always treated me like I was a queen. Until the day they hauled him off to prison, that is. I know he probably thinks I betrayed him, and now he's going to get revenge.”
    Maggie coughed discreetly. “Shirley says she changed her last name fifteen years ago when she moved out here to the coast. She's been worried ever since that Ricky would find her when he got out of prison,”
    Josh lifted his brows. “When was he due for release?”
    “He was supposed to get out a few years ago,” Shirley replied, wiping her eyes again. “I expect it's taken him this long to find me. But now he has and he's lettin' me know he's going to get even for what he thinks I did. I'd run if I could, but I can't afford to go anywhere. Peregrine Manor is my home.”
    Josh wondered whether he should mention to this little group that if a powerful mob figure wanted to kill someone like Shirley Smith, the job would probably have been done by now. Then he reminded himself that he had a whole month ahead of him here at the manor.
    He didn't want to start punching holes in his clients' theories too quickly. They might fire him if they thought they didn't need him. He had a hunch it wouldn't take much to convince Maggie she could dispense with his services.
    “All right,” Josh declared in an authoritative tone that clients generally responded to quite readily. “That takes care of three of your theories.” Privately he had begun to reflect on the possibility of dessert, but forced his attention back to the matter at hand. “What's your explanation for the incidents, Maggie?”
    “Perhaps I should go over it with you later, Josh,” she said hastily. “You've been given enough to analyse for the moment. Dessert, anyone?” She jumped to her feet and began clearing the table with quick, anxious movements.
    Josh watched her with amusement. Her gaze slid away from his as she loudly stacked dishes. It was clear she realized that the pet theories of her fellow residents at Peregrine manor were ridiculous. She wasn't anxious to give him another explanation to mock.
    “Dessert sounds great.” Josh was surprised to discover he actually felt quite content sitting in Peregrine Manor's dining room surrounded by the engaging bunch of eccentric lunatics.
    Things were looking up. Either that or be was losing it fast.
    “Always did like a man with a healthy appetite,”
    Shirley remarked as she got to her feet. “Now, never mind those dishes, Maggie. You know the Colonel and me are the ones who do the clearing up around here.
    You know, my Ricky would eat like a horse. 'Course, he needed a lot of energy in his line of work. Expect you do too, eh. Josh?”
    “Yes, ma'am,” Josh agreed. “I lost my appetite for a while after my accident, but I seem to be getting it back.” He deliberately caught Maggie's eye. “For a lot of things.”
    “I'll get the apple pie,” Maggie said. She vanished into the kitchen as if pursued by small demons.
    Odessa smiled knowingly at Josh. “You're having quite an effect on our Maggie.”
    The Colonel gave Josh a man-to-man look. “You go easy with her, sir. Don't tease her unless you're serious. Our Maggie is a small-town girl. She isn't used to dealing with men of your stamp.”
    “Men of my stamp?” Josh arched an eyebrow.
    “Now, you know what I mean,” the Colonel continued calmly. “You've got the look of a man who's accustomed to going after what he wants. All I'm saying is, don't go after our Maggie unless you're real sure you want her. We're right fond of our Maggie. Wouldn't want to see her get hurt, if you take my meaning.”
    “I take your meaning.” Josh leaned back in his chair and eased his injured foot carefully out in front of himself under the table. He tried to recall the last time he had been warned off a woman but could not. “You all know Maggie well?” he asked casually.
    “Oh, my, yes,” Odessa offered. “We all saw a lot of her when she was growing up. Her parents lived in Washington. Maggie spent most of her summer