After sticking Claude’s chart back and thumbing through a few more, I leaned back, bored. I’d been there for over two hours, and Topaz hadn’t come to throw me out yet. Wow. The exam room was empty. Guess the arm wasn’t broken after all. Good. I didn’t hear any arguments, so maybe the price seemed right for that guy-or he had no clue as to standard charges for the medical care he’d received.

I was going with that.

I leaned farther back and shoved my arms behind my head, shutting my eyes for a few seconds. If Hunter did call me, I’d be too damn tired to go out tonight.

I was getting old. Thirty-five on my last birthday. Yikes.

My eyes flew open. I couldn’t go down that age-road right now, so I sat forward and, in the process, knocked the desk with my knee. “Ouch!” I bit back any more words as best I could while the side panel of the desk popped open a bit. Great. Now they’d deduct the cost of repairs from my salary. As I tried to shove it back into place, I told myself it didn’t matter, since Fabio would owe me big time when I solved this case. Something kept the panel from catching. I stuck my fingers in the space and touched something. When I wiggled them, it fell out.

A manila folder.

Just like all the other crew’s files. Oh well, I thought, it must have fallen through by mistake. I picked it up to stick it in the file cabinet-then I saw the name on top.

Remy Girard.

Oh…my…God.

Within seconds, I had the file stuffed inside my shirt. I wiggled and jiggled until I was certain no one would notice. I stuck the key back on the hook, stood, made sure I looked normal and started to walk out. Topaz had her head in a magazine-thank goodness. I wasn’t about to bother her. Rico sat at the reception area, typing something on a computer keyboard. He looked up.

My mouth went dry. I forced a smile accompanied by as friendly a wink as I could manage and hightailed it out of the reception area before anyone could say boo.

I was scared enough!

On the short distance to my cabin, I prayed to Saint Theresa that Betty would be out somewhere, and I added that I really wasn’t stealing the chart. I had the full intention of returning it very soon, so any punishment for my sin should be put on hold to give me a chance.

What I would have loved to find out was, did it fall into the space between the panel and the desktop, or had someone hidden it there?

Maybe the contents of the file would answer that question.

“Afternoon, Pauline,” Betty’s cheerful voice said as I stumbled into the room. “Everything all right?” She chuckled. “Looks as if someone is chasing you!”

Damn. “Oh, hey.” The folder poked into my chest, but I managed a laugh. “Probably a slew of good-looking single guys.”

“Right-oh,” she said.

Thank goodness Betty looked dressed to go out. She was off duty now, and I hoped and prayed she had a date or a meeting or something outside this damn tiny cabin. I couldn’t even go into the loo to hide, since I’d surely have an attack of claustrophobia in the tiny space.

I sat on my bed and leaned forward, despite cardboard sticking into my skin, so that the chart wouldn’t show. “Hunter told me all about those cute little dolphins.”

Betty gave me an odd look. Well, her look wasn’t really odd, more like she thought I was. And why shouldn’t she? I was being weird, but better to look weird than guilty.

“Yes, they are darling fellows. They bathe so gracefully,” she said.

I pictured the buffeo dolphin with little sponges and soap on a rope around what should be their necks, but then realized Betty meant swim. They swam gracefully. Jackie would have scoffed at her British expressions.

Jackie. I shut my eyes and said a quick prayer for her. The way she’d treated Betty made me guess that Jackie didn’t make friends very easily, and more than likely made enemies in seconds with a lash of her oh-so-very-glamorous accent.

I noticed Betty looking at me as if waiting for me to say something. “Oh, yeah. They are cuties, but that tank is so deep.” Great. I sounded like a fool.

Betty must have agreed. She went to her closet and said, “I’m off for the afternoon. Some of the rooms can get so cold I need my jumper.”

Jumper? Now I pictured Betty in a navy pinafore-type jumper, looking very schoolgirlish. She pulled a navy sweater from a hanger. Well, at least I had the color correct.

As soon as she closed the closet, I hurried to the bathroom and only partially closed the door because of my small-space anxiety. Didn’t want to get caught if she came back. At least I could take the folder out without a problem. I’d bent it in half when I leaned forward, but I couldn’t worry about that; since the contents were more important.

I listened for any noise and then went out. Betty must have gone off to wherever. There certainly were plenty of places onboard to spend your time off. I tucked my shirt back in and sat on the edge of my bed. Pulling the pillow close, I got ready to shove the file underneath if Betty came back suddenly.

Knock. Knock.

Damn! I shoved the file under the pillow. Wait a minute. Betty wouldn’t knock. I stood up, made sure the file was covered and looked out the peephole. It was Jagger.

I opened the door yanked him in and said, “Geez. What timing.”

He gave me an odd look.

“Sit down and look.” I pulled the manila folder out from under the pillow and told him how I’d found it. “So, what do you think?”

He stared at it for a few seconds. “I won’t know until we see what is inside.”

My heart sank. I wanted praise for finding it! Then again, this was a job and I worked for pay, not Jagger’s compliments. Still, they didn’t hurt.

I opened the folder, feeling a bit as if I were violating Remy’s privacy. Maybe because it wasn’t for a medical reason-other than finding something out about my fraud case or why he went missing.

Jagger leaned forward. Damn. I had to take a deep breath and tell myself that Jagger pheromones did nothing to me. Ha! I swallowed, blew out a breath and looked at the folder.

“Hmm,” I said after reading for a few minutes.

“Hmm what?” Jagger took out his standard toothpick, unwrapped it then stuck it into his mouth. He didn’t smoke, that I knew of, but used the toothpick to help him think-I assumed. He certainly didn’t seem like someone who would have a nervous habit.

“Well, sounds as if Remy might not have been too healthy.”

“Oh?” Jagger tilted the folder so he could see it. “Blood pressure elevated. Hurt his ankle, bent his arm, cut his finger-all in a month’s time. Maybe the guy was just accident prone.”

I looked up. “You think so?”

“Do you?”

“You sound like a psychiatrist, parroting everything your patient says.” I chuckled.

Jagger leaned closer. “Well?”

“Well…well, what?”

“Are you cured?”

Not from pheromone overdose.

Before I could ease away, Jagger moved forward even more. Soon his face was right next to mine and his lips…yep, were aiming for mine.

Emotionally and physically I wanted him to proceed. But my logical mind interfered, so I leaned back and said, “You think you can…you know-”

“Kiss you,” he breathed.

Oh…my…God.

“Yeah. Yes. Randomly kiss me then go back to work as usual. Calling me Sherlock and pretending it never happened?”

For the first time since meeting Jagger, he actually looked confused, and he even had me wondering what the hell I was doing.

“Sorry,” he said.

Oh, damn. Now what could I say so I wouldn’t sound like a fool? More of a fool, that is. “Er…we really should get this file back soon. And Betty may just pop back in any second.”

File? What file? I thought. What is a file? We shouldn’t be talking file.

Jagger looked at the folder on my lap. “Yeah.”