This Girl for Hire by G. G. Fickling

two-piece swimsuit. Her straps kept coming down and the little TV actress finally abandoned the top in favor of a bright red lei. It would have taken no encouragement at all for her to shed the lei, but for some reason a slight semblance of order was maintained and nobody encouraged her.
    Two incidents were unusual duringthat trip: the sudden appearance of Max Decker, who was supposed to have missed the boat, and a back-slapping relationship that developed between Sam Aces and Bob Swanson.
    We anchored about a half-mile off shore at White’s Landing, the summer site of a YMCA camp. A camera crew went ashore to set up for the next day’s film sequences. I hitched a ride on the small boat. So did Lori Aces, who seemed disgusted with the chaos aboard
Hell’s Light
.
    â€œI think my husband likes that cheap Claypool girl,” Lori said. “Did you see the way she kept looping the other half of her lei over the men and hugging them?”
    The boat angled up beside the pier. We climbed out, then separated from the camera crew and started up the white beach. I asked Lori if she knew what had ever happened to Rod Caine. She denied knowing the writer until I told her I was a private detective hired by her husband. We talked about the night Aces caught Lori and Caine under the covers.
    â€œI was having a drink,” Lori said, “I was lonesome. Sammy works so many nights, you know! Rod came by the house and we had a few martinis. He kissed me a couple of times and then—the next thing I knew we were in bed together.”
    â€œHe must be some man.”
    â€œI guess so,” Lori said softly. “I’m only eighteen. I haven’t had much experience. In fact, with Sammy it was the first time for me.”
    Now I knew the age score. Aboutthirty-two years difference between Aces and Lori. A wide gap.
    â€œHave you seen or heard from Caine since that evening?”
    â€œYou won’t tell my husband, will you?”
    â€œThis is strictly between us, I promise.”
    â€œHe called me about three weeks ago. I asked him where he was, but he wouldn’t tell me. He said he was so mad at what Sammy had done, he’d like to kill him.”
    â€œHow badly was his face injured?”
    â€œHe wouldn’t tell me a thing, but he did ask me the strangest question.” Lori looked puzzled.
    â€œWhat was that?”
    Lori’s bathing suit had big buttons down the front and she fiddled with them nervously. “He asked me if Sammy’s favorite drink was still a screwdriver.”
    I winced. “You never told your husband about the phone call?”
    â€œNo, I was afraid to. He goes mad with jealousy. Like the night he shoved the glass in Rod’s face. I was afraid he might think there was more to it than just the phone call.”
    â€œHas Sam ever mentioned Herb Nelson to you?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œWhen exactly?”
    Lori said, “Lot’s of times. Sam felt sorry for Herb. He was always trying to get him into bit parts in the Swanson show, but Bob kept saying no. Bob’s one hundred percent louse.”
    We decided to take a swim. Lori was obviously an expert swimmer and her small armscut the frothy sea with swift, practiced strokes. We went out about a half mile and then floated on our backs.
    The swim did a lot to clear my head. I began piecing things together. Whoever stole my .32 had tried it on me and then brought the revolver aboard ship planning to use it on Aces. The only suspect who hadn’t sailed with us was Rod Caine, unless he was hiding, or was unrecognizable because of a change in his features. I felt like counting Lori Aces out of the race. She was too naive, too sweet, too much in love with her husband. Or was she any of these?
    I considered the phone call to Lori from Rod Caine. The story sounded phony. Knowing Sam Aces, I figured he’d probably been drinking screwdrivers since he was old enough to talk. Who changes an old