The Private Eye

the phone.
    “Peregrine Manor,” she snapped.
    “Maggie?” The familiar male voice on the other end of the line held a faint, inquiring note.
    Maggie relaxed and leaned back against the wall.
    “Hello, Clay. Sorry, I was busy. How are you?”
    “Just fine,” Clay O'Connor said in his easy, pleasant tones. “Thought I'd check and make sure we're still on for this evening.”
    “Of course. Six o'clock, right?” Automatically Maggie glanced at the calendar beside the phone and saw where she had written “Clay - dinner - six” on that day's date.
    “Right.” There was a slight pause. “Listen, I hear you've got a guest staying at the manor. Thought you'd decided to close for the winter. Change your mind?”
    Maggie realized with a start that she hadn't invented a solid cover story to explain Josh's presence to outsiders. Her gaze swung toward Josh who was watching her intently from where he was sitting at the table.
    “It was kind of unexpected. Clay.” She sought frantically for an explanation. Clay O'Connor was a very nice man, but she didn't want anyone outside the small household at the manor to know that she had hired an investigator. “I'll tell you all about it this evening. See you at six.”
    “Maggie-”
    “Got to run. Clay. I've got scones in the oven. Bye.”
    Maggie hurriedly hung up the phone and scowled at Josh.
    “Problems?” Josh inquired softly.
    “We've got to think up a good reason for your being here at the manor. Josh. I don't want the people in Peregrine Point to know I've hired a private investigator. It might get back to whoever is causing the trouble around here.”
    “That's right,” the Colonel chimed in. “When we made the decision to hire you, we agreed to keep your real purpose here a secret,”
    Josh eyed Maggie. He looked very thoughtful. “You don't think your friend O'Connor could keep his mouth shut?”
    Maggie winced. “I'm not worried about him keeping quiet. I'm afraid he'll laugh at me. He thinks I'm getting paranoid about the incidents.”
    “Got it.” Josh nodded. “Don't worry, I'll come up with a good cover story by the time he arrives to pick you up this evening. Six o'clock, wasn't it?”
    “Yes.” Maggie removed the kettle from the stove and poured boiling water into a teapot. For some reason she felt vaguely uneasy. She realized she didn't know how to read the expression in Josh's eyes.
    Josh flashed a wicked grin. “Leave everything to me. I keep telling you you're in good hands, Maggie.”
    Maggie shot him a suspicious glance. She didn't like the sound of that. “Perhaps we'd better work on the cover story together, Josh.”
    “Forget it. This is my area of expertise.”
    “But, Josh – ”
    The Colonel interrupted. “Now, Maggie, he's right. Leave all that sort of thing to our man, here. He's a professional.”
    “I think the scones are done,” Josh said helpfully. “By the way, we're almost out of jam. You'd better put it on your shopping list, Maggie.”
    “Thank you for reminding me,” Maggie answered through set teeth.
    “That's what I'm here for, ma'am. To check out the details.”
    Odessa smiled happily. “Such a relief to know you're on the job. Josh.”
    “Sure is,” Shirley agreed. “Like my Ricky always used to say, when you want something done right, hire a professional.”
    Josh smiled. “I'm sure Ricky knew all about hiring professionals, Shirley.”
    MAGGIE DRESSED FOR DINNER with some trepidation that evening. She had been worrying all afternoon about the “cover story” Josh was supposedly inventing. The closer six o'clock got, the more she fretted about it.
    She slipped into a long-sleeved black dinner dress that hugged her small waist and flared out around her calves in a rich swirl of fabric. She brushed her hair out so that it hung freely around her shoulders, and was pondering the question of earrings when a knock sounded on the door.
    “Clay's here.” Shirley called. “Let's see how you look, honey.”
    Maggie opened her bedroom door. “Tell him I'll be right down, will you?”
    “Sure. Hey, you know what? I've got a necklace that would be perfect with that dress. Hang on. 111 get it.”
    “That's all right, Shirley, really….” Maggie's voice trailed off as Shirley disappeared down the hall.
    The older woman reappeared a few minutes later with a long rhinestone-studded necklace of ancient vintage. “Here you go, honey. This'll be perfect.”
    Maggie smiled weakly, unwilling to hurt