The Private Eye

many times do I have to remind you that I am a trained investigator?”
    “I don't know why that fact keeps slipping my mind,” Maggie responded grimly.

Chapter 5

    JOSH POURED the hot chocolate he had carefully prepared earlier. As he did so, he felt the tension that had been eating at him all evening dissolve at last. It made him realize that he had been waiting for Maggie to return from the moment she had walked out the door on another man's arm five hours earlier. It was only sheer willpower that had kept him from actually pacing the floor for the past hour.
    The Colonel, Odessa and Shirley had assured him that Maggie never stayed out late with Clay O'Connor, but that hadn't relieved Josh's mind. He knew in his gut that it was just a matter of time before O'Connor tried to talk Maggie into staying out very late.
    Maybe even all night. Josh had seen the determination in O'Connor's eyes when Maggie had swept into the parlour to greet him at six. O'Connor was on the make. There was no doubt about it.
    During the evening Josh had come to the decision that Maggie Gladstone was not going to fall into Clay O'Connor's bed while he. Josh, was anywhere in the vicinity. If she was going to fall into any man's bed, it was going to be his own, Josh told himself.
    He'd known he was attracted to her from the instant he had seen her. He'd known he wanted her that first night when she had hovered over his bed, adjusting ice packs. But he'd learned just how severely he was hooked during the past few hours as he had tortured himself with thoughts of another man touching her.
    The interminable wait for Maggie to come home tonight had taught Josh that in some subtle way during the past few days, he had come to think of Maggie as his. The surge of possessiveness he experienced at that thought made his hand tremble slightly. The pot he was holding rattled against the rim of Maggie's cup.
    Maggie frowned in horror. “Don't drop that, whatever you do. Aunt Agatha once told me that pot has been in the family for generations.”
    “In spite of your obvious opinion to the contrary, I am not a complete klutz.” Josh set the pot firmly on the end table. He wondered dourly what McCray and the rest of the staff at BIS would say if they knew his new client thought him clumsy and accident-prone. Hell of an image he had going for himself here. Josh reflected.
    Maggie smiled with a hint of relieved apology when she saw that the pot was safe. “It's just that that particular pot is rather valuable. If I ever do have to sell this place, I'll be counting on making enough profit from the furnishings to provide the Colonel and the others with some financial security.”
    Josh lowered himself cautiously onto the sofa beside Maggie. “What brought that up?”
    “What?”
    “Selling the manor. Every time I've talked to you, you've always made it clear you're not even considering that alternative.”
    Maggie sighed and leaned back against the sofa cushion. She toyed absently with the long rhinestone necklace she was wearing. The stones sparkled like diamonds in the soft light.
    “Clay and I were discussing it earlier in the evening,” Maggie explained. “I told you he's a real-estate agent. A very good one, apparently.”
    “I know. I saw the Mercedes and the gold ring on his pinkie.” Josh had also pumped the Colonel, Odessa and Shirley for every scrap of information they had on Clay O'Connor. He hadn't learned much more than he had already guessed.
    “He really thinks I should dump the manor,” Maggie continued. “Says I'm pouring money down a hole trying to keep it open. He's been after me to cut my losses for several weeks now.”
    “When did you start dating him?”
    “Two months ago.” Maggie fiddled with her teacup. “He's really very nice, you know.”
    “No. How would I know?”
    “Well, he is,” she muttered. Then she gave him a reproachful glance. “That reminds me. I had to fast-talk my way around the subject of our 'mutual friend' when Clay asked me about her. Or him. You really should have briefed me on your cover story. Josh.”
    “What did you tell him?” Josh asked, unconcerned.
    “Not much. Just that the friend lived in Seattle. Then I changed the subject.”
    “Sounds like you handled it well.”
    “Nevertheless, I expect to be kept better informed in the future. And speaking of being informed, let's have your report.”
    Josh shrugged. “I think we can safely discard Shirley's theory of who's behind the