Destiny by Design by Wylie Kinson

T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Trying desperately to get her mind away from lascivious visions of Simon, Ellis tried to remember where in the house she’d seen the portable construction spotlights. She would need extra lighting to do a decent paint job around the window frames, ceiling and other tight spots.
     
    “Damn,” she said to no one as she pulled out of the driveway. “I don’t know who won Final Jeopardy.”
     
    * * * * *
     
     
    Instead of parking in the driveway of the show house like she usually did, Ellis drove around the western side of the house and positioned her car so it faced the office windows. If she didn’t find the portable lights, she could shine her headlights in.
     
    She walked over the muddy un-landscaped yard to the front entrance, master key in hand, prepared to dash in and punch the alarm code. Ellis did so much work after hours that Marco, tired of his pager going off after five o’clock, finally gave in and told her the system code. He’d also given her the key to open the padlocked chain meant to warn off trespassers at the entrance to the Oak Ridges Development.
     
    She made her way down the darkened hallway to the office, hoping that Jeb left the paint, drop cloths and brushes. The enormous house was isolated on acres and acres of empty land, but Ellis wasn’t spooked. She loved being alone with the creaks and groans of the structure settling on its foundation, the smell of wood shavings and fresh paint, and the play of light and shadows created by the moonlight that streamed in through untreated windows.
     
    She switched on the office lights, both the pots and sconces, and confirmed her suspicion. The insufficient lighting would make her task difficult. She definitely needed the portable spots.
     
    Ellis scanned the common areas, looking for the bright yellow cage-headed poles, but suspected that the crew had probably put them outside under the tent where most of their equipment was moved when not in use. She made her way to the backyard via the kitchen, stopping only for a moment to admire the work in progress. The cabinets looked like hickory but it was hard to tell in the dark. Stainless steel appliances, still wrapped in protective plastic, lined the wall, waiting patiently for placement. The butcher-block topped island, complete with vegetable sink, was practically the size of Ellis’ entire kitchen…a chef’s dream.
     
    Once past the covered back porch, she entered Callon Construction’s onsite work zone. It was covered in a colossal white canopy that practically engulfed the entire backyard. The transparent plastic sides of the canopy could be tied down and secured, making the structure water and windproof if needed. Tonight, some panels were rolled up and others were left down to flap and sway in the evening wind. Ellis ducked in and by the light of the moon, could make out several neat work tables, a pile of saw horses and a circular table saw, its vicious jagged teeth barely visible in the shadows.
     
    Ellis froze. She heard a noise—a shuffle. Was someone there? A gust of warm breeze lifted her hair, causing a shiver to run down her spine.
     
    “Hello?” she called, just above a whisper.
     
    She strained to listen but could hear nothing but the wind through the forest of tall pines that surrounded the estate. She scanned the moon-washed grounds but could see only construction stuff—piles of lumber and brick, boxes of tile, large drums of who-knows-what, extension ladders and two trailers sitting end to end—one was the site office, the other full of supplies.
     
    “Nobody here but me,” she said, dropping her shoulders. Here eyes darted back to the trailers.
     
    “Lovely,” Ellis said. “I’ll bet the spotlights are in the trailer and it would be just my luck that it’s locked.”
     
    Her nerves forgotten, Ellis crossed her fingers and headed for the trailers about thirty feet away from the tented area. The storage trailer was the farthest of