Mindy Cowls pored over the papers spread out on the bed and scribbled brief notes on the large yellow writing pad. Several photos lay scattered amid the papers and she paused to pull one from the pile, studying the image captured in full colour. She made a face and tossed it aside, jotting another note on the pad.

Her shoulders began to ache and she set the pad and pen aside, and flopped back on the bed, shifting until the ache subsided. An open bottle of juice stood on the night table and she looked at from her upside down position, realizing she hadn't had anything else since she arrived.

When the couple that the manager had hustled through their checkout had first begun arguing, Mindy thought she'd made an error in choosing her lodging but it was handled well, on behalf of the other guests, and she dismissed her concern. She needed a quiet place to operate from and to immerse herself in her research.

Mindy Cowls was thirty-two years old, well put together, pretty. moderately fashionable, intelligent and on her first big case as a licensed private investigator. Taking over her father's business had given her father a mountain of pride as he ignored the storm warnings emanating from Mindy's mother. Edgar Cowls retired from his private business after receiving a gunshot wound in the hip from a disgruntled client—not the criminal he was pursuing. It was an unfortunate case of hot temper, which came about when the client found Edgar consoling his wife over the loss of their savings.

An unimpressed judge dismissed the charge Edgar brought and ruled against any compensation with a private glee stemming from his own domestic situation. Edgar tried consulting but found he needed to be more physically involved and it was only a short step from convincing his daughter, who always loved the Hollywood romance attached to the profession, to be his foot soldier.

Three years later, Mindy took over the entire operation, and with a few small successes and a growing reputation under her belt, landed her biggest case. Jeannette Zarkowski.

Wickville, Kansas supported a thirteen thousand population of mainly farmers and small business people. Hard working, mostly honest, and all leaning toward the religiously zealous. Out of this unknown speck on the map came an unlikely luminary in the form of an aggressive, overpowering young woman named Jeannette Zarkowski.

A whirlwind stint fundraising for the congregation of the, Path of Our Follower, ended with Jeannette shedding her adopted faith, her angelic demeanor and hastily hitting the road with a satchel full of bills previously committed to the construction of a new retreat for the parishioners.

The church leader had sought out Mindy to track down the deceitful thief and with a large expense cheque as an advance, she gleaned every morsel available from the town records, kissed her parents goodbye and headed by bus to the west coast. After a month of pounding on office doors and paying for searches, Mindy got her first sniff of Jeannette's trail.

She managed to wheedle a copy of a photo from the state passport office that closely matched the only picture she carried from Wickville. The passport was issued to one Jeannette Zarkowski for use on a cruise three weeks after fleeing with the church funds. Mindy applied herself to the task and uncovered the cruise line and the sailing manifest. Among the notes and descriptions, she learned that Jeannette had enjoyed a shipboard wedding to one Clifford Whyst, whose family owned the eastern half of the country.

Now able to follow a much easier trail, Mindy traced Clifford to the desert community of Santa Gordo and with sparkly-eyed determination, she searched the town's website and chose the Posada de Jardines hotel as her next base of operations.

The knock on the door startled her and she stepped over her bags and trod barefoot to the door.

"Good mornin', ma'am. I'm here to clean your room."

Mindy returned the bright smile of the tall maid automatically and waved a hand. "I'm in the middle of a lot of work and frankly, I've made quite a mess in here. Can you just leave fresh linen and I'll make the bed myself?"

"I'll have to ask my employer, ma'am." Puela looked around. "I just started and I really need this work." Her big eyes opened wider as extra punctuation.

"Well I don't want to cause any problems so let me speak to him. As the guest I'm sure he won't make any of the fuss he might make with you." She gave Puela a wink and smiled. "I'll go up right away."

Puela thanked her and carried her basket of supplies on to the next room.

Mindy went back and slipped on her sandals, checked her hair and face in the mirror, tugged her t-shirt down over her hips. Gordon came around the corner from the rear entrance just as she closed her door and stepped onto the patio and he gave her a friendly nod.

"Oh, just the person I wanted to see."

He stopped and smiled. "What can I do for you?"

Mindy explained about Puela and the room and apologized if it was a problem as she went on to explain how her work was all over the place and in spite of how it might look, there was an order that she didn't want to disturb.

"It's fine. If we could get all the guests to do their rooms we'd have a much easier time." He kidded.

Mindy thanked him and they spent a second or two fumbling a departure.

"Is that Mindy Cowls?" Deborah stood in the alcove leading to the laundry area as Gordon returned with an armload of linen.

"Yeah, she was asking us to leave her room for one night. She's got stuff spread all over. Work or something. Doesn't want to disturb it."

"I didn't know she was black."

"Is that important?" He stepped around her and headed to the laundry.

"No. But it helps to know what our guests look like."

"And?"

"You only mentioned her age, her big hair and her smile." She gave him a dig in the back and he yelped in mock pain. They stood side by side at the folding counter and arranged the fresh linen on the shelves, both making small talk and teasing one another. It was times like these that they both appreciated their relationship and what might be lost if it was interrupted.

"What kind of work does she do?"

"Not a clue."

"I thought you said it was all over her room."

"I wasn't in there. That's what she said."

"Gee, a missed opportunity."

"He put the last set of pillow cases on the shelf and grabbed her around the waist. "I was waiting for a better one-- like this." He spun her around and pulled her to him, pressing her bum against the table's edge.