This Girl for Hire by G. G. Fickling Page A

habit like that overnight? Someone could have faked Caine’s voice. Or maybe Lori lied.
    Floating on a glittering green wave, Lori smiled at me, “How you doing?”
    â€œGreat. What’s Rod Caine sound like?”
    â€œHis voice?”
    â€œYes.”
    Lori treaded water for a moment while she thought about the question. “I don’t know. It’s sort of deep. A little nasal. Has a nice quality. He should have been an actor instead of a writer—with his looks and a voice like that. Sounds a little like Sammy, in fact.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œSammy. My husband.”
    I rolled over in the water and studiedthis dark-haired little porpoise. Who was she trying to kid? That first crack about Caine’s questioning of Sam’s taste in drinks was bad enough, but this took the prize for being obvious. I fried a quick new formula: Lori plus Caine plus revenge plus money equals murder! Sounded plausible. This way Caine didn’t have to be aboard
Hell’s Light
. Lori could have faked the whole business about finding the gun in the bathroom window. Maybe she wanted to frighten Aces and make me think he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Then powie! The old suicide gag. They slip Aces a pint of poison and make him out a homicidal maniac who hits people with broken glass and who fakes his voice to pin his death on a hated enemy. I was certain now. Lori Aces was in the running. Very much in the running. There was only one disturbing element to my conclusion. Whoever wanted Aces out of the way, apparently wanted to nudge me in the same direction.
    â€œCome on!” Lori suddenly shouted. “I’ll race you to that cove.”
    She struck out, lightning fast, toward a jagged wall that was narrowed in by a couple of white-capped rocks. I hadn’t noticed before, but the sea was beginning to push itself up into healthy ridges and the wind blew the top of one into my face. I lost sight of Lori in the swell.
    A big wave broke over my shoulders, hurling me under and ripping loose the top of my two-piece suit. I abandoned any thought of heading for the cove and angled toward the beach. Vicious breakers and a strong current drove me into a bed of kelpwell beyond the beach and even the cove. I fought wildly, went down once and came up again.
    The second time down I felt an arm around my middle.

SIX
    H E WAS STARING AT ME WHEN I WOKE UP, A HANDSOME guy with curly black hair that made his head look like a mass of licorice dessert. He had a nice nose, straight with wide flaring nostrils. His mouth was wide with plenty of slack and a small smile etched in the corners. I liked this face. But there was something I didn’t like. The sound I heard somewhere in the distance. The sound of hard rain and violent wind.
    â€œHow are youfeeling?” he asked.
    â€œIn one piece,” I said gingerly. “Am I?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” he said with a larger smile. “And may I add, one of the nicest I’ve come across in a long time.”
    There was a warm blanket over me. I reached underneath and felt around for the top to my suit. It was gone. Apparently he’d pulled me out of the briny deep without a stitch covering the upper part of my body.
    â€œFill me in,” I said, my eyes avoiding his. “Things are rather hazy.”
    He grinned again. “For my money you’re already filled in. And in just theright places.”
    â€œThanks.” I felt my cheeks growing hot. “Where am I?”
    â€œIn my cabin. On the hill overlooking White’s Landing. I was doing a little spear fishing when I found you poking around in my abalone beds.”
    â€œWas I alone?”
    â€œNot exactly. There were a couple of wide-eyed fish in the vicinity, but I got there first.”
    The left side of my jaw felt extremely sore. “You didn’t by any chance hit me with a KO punch?”
    â€œNot until you gave me some of the same in the lower