Despite the seclusion of the cabin, or because of it, because others, rich and sometimes famous, had places of their own--I had passed a few mailboxes...along the winding access rode beside entrances to lengthy driveways, some paved and some not, long enough to hide the houses in the woods—and preferred closer access than the public airport provided, a private airport had been built not that far away, with a runway long enough for jets.Figuring a PI would be shrugged off by the airport’s. I started to feel a familiar itch. I continued to watch her, they were quieter now and she had glanced around the room, our eyes catching for a fraction once or twice as she scanned the room. Perhaps they were talking business and she was bored too I thought, sipping my wine and then the coffee that the waiter brought. I lit a Turkish cigarette and inhaled deeply looking out across the city as the dusk fell. And then I felt I was being watched and turned my head to look in the mirror, catching. More

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