The Private Eye

the way of service.
    But something in her had struck a responding chord within him and the more he thought about it, the more he was afraid he knew just what that chord was. He recognized in Maggie the same naive, misplaced desire to ride to the rescue of the weak and innocent that had once driven him into his present line of work. That explained what she was doing here trying to keep this white elephant of an inn going, of course. She was going to do her best to protect the home of those three aging eccentrics down the hall.
    Maggie Gladstone clearly hadn't yet learned that playing knight in shining armour was a thankless task and generally a waste of time.
    The clock on the bedside table ticked softly, recording the passage of what was apparently going to be an endless night.
    The hell with it, Josh decided. If he wasn't going to get to sleep, he might as well get some work done. He would get started on the book tonight. Sooner or later he was going to have to find out whether he could pull off the task of getting the characters in his head down on paper. Make that computer disk, he told himself as he pushed aside the heavy quilt.
    Josh levered himself to an upright position and rolled off the edge of the high bed with a sudden surge of enthusiasm. It was not until he was halfway off that he belatedly remembered the small set of steps on the side.
    By then, of course, his right foot had missed them entirely and he was off balance. He grabbed for the ornately carved bedpost. The damn thing was apparently broken. It turned beneath his hand, providing no support at all. His fingers slipped off it. In a reflexive movement that he regretted an instant later, Josh put his injured left foot down to catch his full weight. His heel hit the floor and waves of pain shot through him “Damn it to hell.” Josh gritted his teeth against the agony in his leg and grabbed desperately again for support. His fist closed around a handful of the chintz bed hangings.
    Unfortunately the bed hangings had not been designed to bear weight. They tore free of the canopy frame. There was no time to clutch at anything more substantial. Josh toppled awkwardly back onto the edge of the bed, promptly slid off it, and landed heavily on the floor. His bruised shoulder and ribs, which had been healing rather nicely up to that point, took the brunt of the fall.
    Josh closed his eyes, clenched his teeth and waited for the agony to recede. While he waited, the torn bed hangings drifted lightly down to settle on top of him.
    Josh remained on the floor, tangled up in chintz, and gathered his strength to fight off the pain. He was amusing himself by running through a list of four-letter words that seemed suitable to describe quaint, charming Victorian inns furnished with period pieces when he heard anxious pounding on the door. He knew at once who it was.
    “Josh? Josh, are you okay?” Maggie's voice was filled with concern.
    Hell. Just what he needed, he thought, disgusted. It wasn't enough that he already felt like a damn fool. No, now he had to face the ignominy of having his client race to the rescue. Somehow his restful, relaxing month on the coast was not getting off to a good start.
    “I'm fine, Maggie.” he managed. “Go back to bed.”
    “You don't sound fine. You'd better open the door. I thought I heard something heavy fall in there.”
    “A little accident,” Josh gasped, spitting out a mouthful of chintz drapery.
    “Another accident?” she asked in obvious dismay.
    “Don't worry about it,” he got out through teeth that were still set against the roaring protest of his battered body. The woman was clearly forming the opinion that he was a clumsy idiot. He could hardly blame her.
    “Josh, you sound terrible. I'm coming in.”
    “No.” That threat galvanized him into immediate action. Josh lurched to a sitting position beneath the shroud of bed hangings and had to suck in his breath as a new wave of pain surged from his ankle and bruised ribs. “Damn.”
    The door opened on the far side of the bed. A narrow shaft of light cut a swath across the floor as Maggie stuck her head inside the room. “Josh? Where are you?”
    He realized she couldn't see him because he was lying on the other side of the huge bed. “Over here. Look, Maggie, there's no need to get excited, okay? I'm all right.”
    “What on earth happened?” She flipped the light switch beside the door. “Good grief, what have you done to the bed?”
    “It's more a