The Private Eye

book. A mystery novel, from the looks of it.
    She had been cheated! She hadn't gotten herself a private investigator—she had gotten a writer. No wonder Josh spent so much time up here in his room. His free room. And no wonder he was so insistent on having his home-cooked meals and his tea and scones. Unpublished writers were notorious mooches— always down-and-out and looking for a handout. Josh probably thought he'd landed in clover when he'd talked his way into this cushy job.
    Maggie jumped to her feet, outraged by the way she'd been taken in. Josh wasn't even a published mystery writer, she reminded herself grimly. If he were, she would have heard of him. She'd read hundreds of mysteries.
    She glanced around the room, her eyes narrowing. It was time she found out just what sort of man she was dealing with, she decided. She stalked over to the dressing table and started jerking open the drawers.
    A collection of socks and briefs had been neatly arranged in the top drawer. There was nothing in the other two. Maggie stomped into the bathroom and surveyed the array of shaving gear on the counter.
    She headed for the wardrobe next and flung open the doors to reveal several shirts, his one good quality jacket, and a tie. The two suitcases she had laboriously brought up the stairs that first night were stacked on the floor. Maggie knelt down and pulled them out. They were both unlocked and empty.
    Disgusted with the lack of clues as to Josh's true identity, Maggie closed the closet doors and considered the rest of the small room. Her gaze fell on the nightstand beside the bed.
    She walked over and jerked open the drawer of the little table. A blush rose furiously in her cheeks when she saw a little foil packet lying inside next to a pen and notepad. The man obviously believed in being prepared. He'd probably been a Boy Scout. She slammed the drawer hurriedly and went back to the computer.
    Slowly she sat down in front of the screen again and began to read.

    “DAMN.” Josh crouched in front of the furnace's guts, which had been revealed when he'd removed the access panel. He teased one wire out from the nest of control wiring and examined the neatly severed end.
    “Look at that sucker. Someone sliced right through it.”
    “Sabotage,” the Colonel muttered. “I knew it.”
    Josh nodded, “Sure looks that way. No telling when it was cut, but it must have been done recently. Probably while Maggie and I were at dinner.”
    “You think someone got in while Odessa and Shirley and I were watching television?”
    “It's possible.” Josh remembered how he and Maggie had found all three asleep in front of the droning television set.
    “Our hearing isn't what it used to be,” the Colonel admitted. “And we had the television on loud. Someone could have gotten in here and cut that wire without us hearing him, I suppose.”
    Josh put his left hand on the furnace housing and levered himself to his feet. He wished he'd thrown on a shirt before leaving the bedroom. The basement was cold. “The windows are both closed,” he observed as he crossed the room to look up at them. “Closed and locked.”
    “What do you think is going on here, January? You're the expert.”
    “I think,” said Josh, “that I'd better splice that cut wire so we can get some heat going in this place. The whole house will be freezing in another hour or so. Tomorrow morning I'll take a look around outside and see if I can find the point of entry.”
    The Colonel nodded, looking suitably impressed. “Right. What about the ladies?”
    Josh shot him a sidelong glance, wondering if the Colonel had any notion of where Maggie was at that moment. He didn't want her embarrassed in front of her three old-fashioned tenants. “We'll tell them everything in the morning. Like you said, there's no sense worrying them tonight.”
    “Fine. I'll go on back to bed, then. Unless you need any help with that wiring,”
    “No, it's just a simple splicing job. I can handle it. I've had a fair amount of experience with this kind of thing.” Josh hunkered down in front of the exposed wiring.
    “I suppose you use a lot of electronic equipment in your line of work, don't you?” the Colonel remarked, apparently pleased at the notion.
    “Yeah, and you can't go calling in a service technician every time something goes wrong on the job, You learn to make do.” Josh used his pocketknife to strip the insulation back on the severed wire.
    “Thought so. Well, then,