The Private Eye

condition? On top of everything else? That's expecting rather a lot, considering what you're paying, isn't it?”
    Maggie was incensed. “Now, see here, Mr. January, I am providing room and board at one of the choicest inns on the coast for an entire month. That is hardly a pittance.”
    “Do you have any idea what the usual hourly billing rate is for round-the-clock BIS services, Ms. Gladstone?” josh asked very softly.
    “Well, no.” Of course, she hadn't bothered to inquire. Maggie had known full well she didn't have the kind of cash it would take to pay for full-time security service. She could barely pay the electricity bill these days. “I didn't inquire as to your usual rates because I assumed that what I was prepared to offer in exchange for services rendered was adequate compensation.”
    “Not even close, Ms. Gladstone.”
    “Then why did you accept the case?” she shot back.
    “Let's just say I happened to be feeling in a real charitable mood when your letter arrived. You're my good deed for the year, lady. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get my room key. I would also like to have my luggage brought upstairs as I am in no condition to handle it myself. I am supposed to be waited on hand and foot, according to my partner.”
    “Why do I have the distinct impression that you are rarely given to acts of charity, Mr. January?”
    He grinned without any warning and there was something extremely predatory looking about his excellent teeth. “Perhaps because you are a very perceptive female, Ms. Gladstone. Shall we get moving, here?
    It has not been a good day. In fact, it hasn't been a good week or even a good month. I am more than ready to indulge myself in a little tranquility.”
    Maggie considered throwing him out and decided that was an impossible task, even if she could get the Colonel to assist. Josh January might be hobbling around on crutches and appear somewhat the worse for wear, but he still looked awfully solid. “I suppose that since you're here now, you may as well spend the night.”
    “Ah, a touch of the gracious charm I was told to expect.” Josh inclined his head in a mocking bow. “Thank you, Ms. Gladstone.”
    “I'll get your key.” She stalked past him and went behind the desk to take a key out of one of the little boxes on the wall. “Number 312.”
    “The third floor?” He gave her a disgusted look.
    “Forget it. I'm not climbing up and down two flights of stairs every time I leave the room. You said most of the guest rooms were empty. There must be something available on a lower floor.”
    He had a point, but Maggie was too annoyed by his tone of voice to admit it. She snatched another key out of a box. “Number 210 in the east turret.” That was the room right next door to her own, she realized with a start. Not that it mattered, she decided. She automatically fell into the standard sales pitch. “Quite a nice room, if I do say so, myself. Excellent view of the sea. Canopied bed. Your own fireplace with wood supplied. Now, then, if you go on up, I'll see to your luggage.”
    Josh frowned and glanced through the open door to where the black car was parked in the rain. “Have you got someone around who can give you a hand?”
    “Certainly,” Maggie said, lying through her teeth. “Your luggage will be no problem. It will be brought up shortly.”
    “Suit yourself.” He shrugged and then adjusted the crutches under his arms. “I smell something cooking. I'm starving. What's the deal on dinner around here?”
    “We, uh, were expecting you to join us here at the inn,” Maggie replied uneasily. “But perhaps you'd rather drive into town,” she added a touch eagerly.
    “There are a couple of nice seafood places.”
    “Too much trouble. I'll eat here. I'm supposed to eat home-cooked meals. I'll be down as soon as I've showered and changed. Lord, I could use a drink. It's been a hell of a drive.” The crutches thunked on the bottom step.
    Maggie bit her lip, watching him progress heavily up the staircase. “I don't believe I mentioned it in my letter, but we – that is, the other residents of the manor have established a little tradition of dressing for dinner. I go along with it.” She eyed his jeans and work shirt. “I rather assumed you might do the same.”
    “Don't worry,” Josh said from halfway up the stairs. “I'll dress. I rarely go out to dinner buck naked.”
    Maggie closed her eyes in momentary despair and then opened them again when