The KLM Airbus set down at Pearson International around eight in the morning. Passengers had been awakened much earlier for breakfast on board and were now arriving home at breakfast time again. First class exited first and had quick processing through immigration and customs.

Their baggage was also first off the plane so Keith and Barbara were into the arrival area meeting two of Keith's fellow detectives in good time. Introductions were made and descriptions of the two French suspects shared then Keith and Barbara grabbed a cab and headed for the city.

"You realize I'm totally ruined for flying now. I could never go back to economy and I could never afford first class so it's boats, trains and cars from now on."

"I hope psychological aviation corruption isn't a crime."

"Wow, I'll have to check that out. You could be in big trouble, lady."

"Speaking of trouble, what about those men?"

"Our guys'll keep an eye on them, see where they settle. They haven't done anything yet, so we can't pull them in."

"I don't understand what they think they can do."

"Let us worry about that. You want to go home or to your office?"

"I'd love to change first but I should check in with Arthur. He'll be going crazy over the courier's delivery."

"Okay, office it is. I'll call you later this evening. I expect to be a while with my boss – going over receipts and explaining my flight home."

"Does he need to know?"

"We were met by two detectives remember. He'll know."

***

"Barbara! You're back early! What the hell happened over there? How did you get mixed up with Railton? That piece the courier brought is mind blowing!" Arthur took her by the arms as she came into his office, then stepped back, gesturing an apology.

"It's a long, complicated story, Arthur and I really need a shower, a good sleep and a change of clothes."

"But what happened? Why were you even there?"

"Arthur, please. I'll give you all the details tomorrow but I really need to get home. I just wanted to make sure you got the package from the courier and to let you see I got back and all is well."

Janet fluttered around her on the way out of the building, firing questions like an automatic weapon and stamping a frustrated foot when Barbara said she'd tell her tomorrow. A cab ride home and into her apartment with a huge sigh just as the phone rang.

She let it go to the building answering machine, connected to the security intercom system then dialled her code and listened. Keith was advising her that the two Frenchmen were met at the airport and driven to a downtown hotel where they picked up a reservation for a room . . . it looked like their adventure wasn't over.

Barbara leaned against the wall thinking. She can't call Keith, the only number she has for him is at the station and that would raise a lot of questions he may not be able to answer. Did he call her at work too? Maybe he left a different message – a way to get in touch?

She found her phone and called Janet. "Hey, hi. Listen I forgot to check my messages when I was in. Could you see if there is anything important, I really need a little time to get back in the time zone."

Janet was gone a moment and came back with a list of names and reasons for calling. "You have to tell me all about that trip, Barb."

"I will, I promise. Just not right now, okay. Was that it – all of them?"

"Oh, your hot detective left a number - no message . . . wonder what that's about Ms Spence."

The leer slid through the phone and Barbara rolled her eyes. "Can I have the number, Janet – please."

After the exchange of a few more innuendos, she hung up and dialled - it was one she didn't recognize.

"Keith Railton, I'm not here at the moment. Leave your message and I'll get back ASAP."

"Blast!" She waited for the tone and just said, "I'm home now".

The phone sat on the top of the toilet tank just outside the shower, in case he called again. Barbara luxuriated in the warm, pounding water and she finished with an application of body wash before stepping out and wrapping herself in the oversized towel she loved.

Disappointed there was no call, she poured a glass of wine and curled up on her sofa instead of hitting the bed for a sleep as she'd planned. The wine, the warmth of her towel and the fact that she really was tired, soon had her dozing soundly.

She awoke with a start from the banging on her apartment door, her head still fuzzy from the deep sleep she had fallen into. Wha- how did someone get in without-?

"Barbara! Are you in there?"

"Keith!" She jumped up and ran to the door, throwing it open and staring into the faces of Keith and her apartment manager, late in realizing her comfy towel had slipped.

***

"I got your message and called back, but there was no answer, just the voice mail. I got worried."

They were seated in Barbara's living room, and after the embarrassing but comical greeting at the door, she had managed to flee to her bedroom and throw on some clothes.

"I was showering. I must have dozed or something, I never heard the phone. You know I'm going to be the talk of the building now. That was a disaster, he'll be telling everyone he meets what happened."

Keith ginned, leaned across from his seat and squeezed her knee. "You'll be famous that's for sure. Probably stir up a bunch of interested suitors too."

She smoked him with a glare but he just kept grinning. "What's this news about our friends?"

The grin faded and Keith told her again about them being met and installed in a hotel.

"Jean Paul's connections are far reaching, we may have more than just those two to contend with now."

"But didn't your men get anything from the people that picked them up or from the hotel?"

He nodded, settling back. "No to the first but they learned from the hotel that the reservation was made by a known criminal who works for Tony Badali - a very well known criminal."

"So now what?"

"They are under surveillance again but we can't watch the entire organization. I'm having a plainclothes assigned to you for caution's sake. He'll see you to and from work safely and keep an eye on you here . . ." His sudden laugh made her angry and she stood and marched out to the kitchen.

"Barb, I'm sorry – it just- I couldn't help thinking how that sounded." He followed her out, staying at a safe distance. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"You won't even see him, I promise. It's for your own good . . . and frankly for mine too."

She turned and faced him, tugging at the baggy sweater she had thrown on. What was she doing in this mess? This was movie stuff, not real life. He held out a hand and she crossed the kitchen into his arms.

"It'll be okay. We'll get this solved, don't worry."

"Easy for you to-" The intercom rang and they parted, looking at one another.

"I better get that," she said moving past him. Barbara picked up the receiver and answered.

"Package for a Ms Spence – needs a signature."

"Who from? I mean what company are you with?"

Keith waved a delay sign with his hand and rushed out the door.

"Look, lady, I'm with a parcel delivery service and I need a signature. Are you Ms Spence?"

She uttered a few more annoying phrases, trying to keep him on the line then suddenly it went dead.