Straightening the bed, the memory of their lovemaking replayed itself. With a chuckle, she wadded up the scarves and put them in her nightstand drawer. Since she knew they’d be needed again…soon…no point putting them back in her bureau.

Idly, she wondered what The Mercantile might have in the way of adult toys. Probably nothing but she’d have to remember to buy more hot fudge.

Stepping into the hall, her nose wrinkled up as it caught the welcome scent of food cooking. Following the aroma, she found Harm at the stove, sausage frying in a black skillet.

“Well, well,” she teased, putting her arm around his waist, “aren’t you just handy as a shirt pocket? I didn’t know the FBI had a cooking merit badge.”

Bending down, he pecked her cheek. “Watch it, woman,” he warned playfully. “I swing a mean spatula. God knows you need a good spanking but you’d probably enjoy it.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. And I may just find out before the summer’s finished, too. Any objections?”

“Who knows?” she shrugged, moving to the coffee maker on the counter. “It’s a long time ‘til September. Anything might happen.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Gettin’ a late start this mornin’ aren’t you?” Fisher eyed the breakfast dishes still sitting on the table as Harm and Elgin enjoyed a leisurely second cup of coffee.

“Well, you know how it is, Jim,” Elgin told him, throwing Harm a quick glance, “some mornings you just don’t feel like getting out of bed.”

Trying to stifle a surprised laugh, Harm began coughing, sipping coffee as Elgin patted his back.

Fisher looked from Harm to Elgin and back, suspicion in his eyes, his mouth drawn down a little. Obviously they didn’t intend to share the joke.

“Would you like some coffee?” she offered when Harm had regained his composure.

“No thanks. Since you don’t have a phone, Marty called me to ask if you two’d like to go out on ‘The Monkey’ tomorrow. Says he’s gotta go over to West Shore on business and thought you’d like to ride over, lose a few bucks in the casinos and gawk at the tourists. Late lunch and then back here before sunset.”

“What’s ‘The Monkey?’” Harm asked.

“Marty’s boat,” Elgin replied happily. “Actually, ‘The Brass Monkey.’”

“That’s a strange name for a boat.”

“Marty’s sort of a strange guy,” Fisher chuckled. “If ya get my drift. Never owned a boat before he bought her. Big, ocean goin’ thing. Not exactly John Wayne’s converted minesweeper, but twice the size of anything up here. Had it brought all the way from the coast.

“Well, soon as I saw it, I asked him what the hell he intended to do with it when winter come. He looks at me with those big sad eyes of his and say, ‘whataya mean?’ I told him the lake gets too cold and too rough to leave a boat in the water all winter. I take all mine out and put ‘em in storage. Told him livin’ up here all his life, he should know that in winter, even the brass monkeys come inside.

“Well, he looked at me and my little runabouts and back at his yacht and says, ‘Oh.’ That’s all. Just, ‘Oh.’ Two days later a crew a workmen arrived up at his place. Built a big old shed up behind his place where ya couldn’t see it from the water or the house. When winter come, he hired a crane to come down, pull that thing outta the water and haul it up to that shed. Next year, he had ‘em come back and put her in the water. Had a big christenin’ ceremony and named her ‘The Brass Monkey.’ Everybody had a good laugh includin’ Marty.”

“Oh that sounds wonderful,” Elgin replied excitedly. “You’ll love it, Camp, really.”

“Sure. Sounds like fun.”

“Figured you wouldn’t turn it down,” Fisher smiled indulgently. “Marty said he’ll meet you at the ‘Monkey’ ‘bout nine-thirty. Better set yer alarm. Don’t wanna over sleep.”

“No need for that,” she assured him. “We’ll be there with bells on.”

“Well, I better get goin’. Us workin’ people can’t afford to lounge around all day. ‘Sides, don’t wanna tax poor Tom’s brain by leavin’ him in charge too long.”

“Let’s face it, Jim,” she teased, putting her arm around him, “you think anything after five a.m. is sleeping in.”

“And you think anything before nine is gettin’ up with the chickens. Damn good thing you’re a writer and don’t have to punch a time clock like the rest of us.”

“You know I never worried about having a job. You promised me as a child I could always come work for you.”

“Offer still stands. Any time you wanna give up that city crap and come home, Ellie, you know you’re always welcome.”

“I know Jim,” she told him quietly. “And you have no idea how much that means to me.”

He gazed down at her fondly. Finally, he kissed the top of her head.

“You and Harm be sure to come by and say ‘howdy’ tomorrow. Might be able to rustle up a beer er even a hard cola.”

“Bet on it.”

“Okay then. Bye Ellie. Harm.”

“Bye Jim.”

The two of them settled back to the table.

“I, uh, don’t mean to be rude, but where the hell did he materialize from? I’d hate to think of someone sneaking up on us if we’d been otherwise occupied.”

“Oh, I keep forgetting. You’re a stranger here. You don’t know the territory. Jim lives just on the other side of that knoll over there. Sort of catawampus to the upper corner of my property.

“This whole area is honeycombed with old logging roads and trails. Some of them go all the way back to the gold rush. Jim knows them all and in that great big old truck of his with those big wheels, four-wheel drive and high ground clearance, he uses them as short-cuts to get around. In fact, there’s an old trail that goes past his place and sort of doglegs down to the lake and comes out just below my gate. Moon Lake Road used to be part of the logging system. You wouldn’t see it if you didn’t know where to look. Grown over mostly now.”

Elgin’s voice dropped and she looked away toward the lake.

“Jim’s wife, Cissy, liked to hike the trails around here. Did it practically every morning, rain or shine. Especially the one down by the lake.

“Jim and a buddy of his came home from fishing one day and she wasn’t there. It was getting late and dark so he and his friend went out to look for her. They found her body floating face down in the shallows just below the trail.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been awful for him.”

She nodded. “It was terrible for everyone who knew her. Cissy was kind and gentle and just about the best person I ever knew. The police figure she was walking along, tripped, fell, hit her head and tumbled into the water and drowned.

“That happened the autumn after the summer I turned fifteen. Marty got a letter from his folks and he told me. I felt really bad and wrote Jim a letter and he wrote back to me telling me how much he appreciated the sympathy and how he looked forward to seeing me again in the summer. I didn’t go back the next year. Not for a lot of years as a matter of fact. Not until I bought this place.

“Funny…” she mused.

“What?”

She turned back to him then. “Oh, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that trail or Cissy for ages. In fact, after she died, no one ever used it anymore, including Jim. I just thought how funny he should use it to come visit me after all this time. Guess it was just quicker than going all the way around and down the road and opening the gate.

“Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?”

“Oh,” he answered pulling her to him, “I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.”