When I got to the front desk, there was a message waiting,one that I was expecting. Inspector Jamilla Hughes of the SanFrancisco Police Department was in town and needed ameeting with me. ASAJ? if not soonei said the note. Thatmeans move it, buster.

I gave my smiling regrets to the pooi sharks and took myleave of them After all, I was on vacation, too.

“Go get 'em, Daddy,” Jannie ribbed me. “It's Jamilla,right?” Damon gave a thumbs-up and a smile from behindthe fogged lens of a snorkel mask.

I crossed the grounds from the Disneyland Hotel to theGrand Californian, where I had booked another room. Thisplace was an entirely American Arts and Crafts affair, muchmore sedate than our own hotel.

I passed through stained-glass doors into a soaring lobbyRedwood beams rose six floors overhead, and Tiffany lampsdotted the lower level, which centered on an enormous fieldstone fireplace.

I barely noticed any of it, though. I was already thinkingabout Inspector Hughes up in room 456.

Amazing - I was on vacation.

Chapter 8

JAMILLA GREETED ME at the door, lips first, a delicious kiss that warmed me fromhead to toe. I didn't get to see much of her wraparound baby-blue blouse and black pencilskirt until we pulled apart. Black sling-back heels put her at just about the right height forme. She sure didn't look like a homicide cop today“I just got in,” she said.

“Just in time,” I murmured, reaching for her again. Jamilla's kisses were always likecoming home. I started to wonder where all this was going, but then I stopped myself.

Just let it be, Alex.

“Thanks for the flowers,” she whispered against my ear. “All of the flowers. They'reabsolutely beautiful. I know, I know, not as beautiful as me.”