"When in doubt, LIE!"

The phone rang. I answered it. Music played in the background. I hung the phone up and got out of bed, and walked over to the sink. I fingered brushed my teeth with the second mouthwash packet, combed my hair. I was thankful for my hairs shortness. Easier to manage, easier period. I learned early, in my agent career, how long hair could be used against you. I collected the brochures, key and note, and left for the Ramada INN. It had occurred to me that someone could have watched me take the key and note. It hadn't bother me in the least. If they weren't going to kill me, I was in no danger of death, besides I could always lie and say I was doing this for someone else. When in doubt, LIE!

I reached the front of the Ramada INN. It was only 12:40. I decided to go back in and headed for the Information desk. The woman I talked to this morning was still there.

"Yes," She looked up. "Miss Haggart was it not?"

"Ah, yes it is. Very good memory. Did Mr. Carter check in?"

"No, he didn't."

I said, "Thank you." and backed my way out. The Tour bus had just pulled up. Early I thought. Well, the brochure did say 'please be there at least 15-20 minutes early.'

"Name, please?" It was a young lady with a clipboard. She looked about eighteen, had red hair, blue eyes and a cute smile.

"Haggart."

She looked over the list, frowned. "Your name is not here."

I looked over her shoulder. "Carter and Company then."

"Thomas Carter?"

Yes, Thomas H. Carter and Paula Haggart. I confirmed reservation yesterday."

She leafed through her papers. "Oh, here you are." She looked up."Is Mr. Carter here now?"

"Yes, But he'll meet us at MUIR woods."

"Okay." She gave me two yellow cards. "Thank you, Miss. Haggart."

"Thank you." I said and searched for a seat. I memorized five names of the list, maybe it was enough. The bus was almost crowded. I found a seat next to a nice looking man. Around 30 years of age, not married, at least he didn't wear a ring, well build, very firm. He wore new leather tennis shoes, slacks, polo shirt, and a member's only jacket.

"Hi." He said, sparkling pearly white teeth.

"Hello. How are you?"

"Fine . . ."

I nodded, "Yes, you are."

He blushed and smiled. "And you?"

"Pretty good now. Are you here alone?"

"That depends." He said.

"On what?"

"If you're alone."

It was my turn to smile, "I am alone."

He cleared his voice. "Well, since we have something in common maybe we can enjoy this tour together."

"I would like that."

Two things I noticed about him. "One, he was athletic and two, in the pocket of his jacket was a white card. An Olympic RENT-A-CAR white card!

The bus drove off to pick up several more people. Most of the men had white cards sticking out, or showing in some way. I opened my purse and took out the white card. I closed my purse letting the white card stick up half way. My gentleman friend eyed it. He looked up at me and smiled.

I smiled back, "Maybe when we're finished we could do a day."

"That would be wonderful."

The bus started on its tour. We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. Drove along Highway One and stopped at the entrance to MUIR Woods.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. The bus will be leaving in one hour. Please be back at that time." The tour guide said. Walking off the bus I stopped to talk to the young woman.

"Will the bus be parked in this same spot?"

"Yes."

"Then Mr. Carter should know what to look for?"

She nodded.

I walked out and joined . . . "I don't know your name?"

"John Wilken." He extended a hand.

"Paula Haggart." I extended mine, he grabbed it loosely and kissed it.

"Nice to meet you, Paula." He fingered my palm.

I grinned. He let go of my hand and we started walking. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"This is good air." He spoke. "I wish Saudi were this cool and pleasant."

"Is that where you're from?"

"Yeah, I'm here for a business deal." He winked, one corner of his mouth inched up. I decided I didn't like him.

"I'm from Morocco. You're right, the air is pleasant."

"Morocco, I was there once. Does the Polisario Front still give Azzedine a run for his money?"

"Time to time, but he handles it the best way he can."

He smiled, "That's good. I always hated that son of a bitch."

I laughed.

"Do you work for the Government of Saudi?"

"Not actually, mostly I freelance. And you?"

"About the same. It was hard to prove myself in a country like Morocco . . ."

"I can imagine."

I chuckled. It doesn't look very well for a woman to hold such a high, free, flexible position. I get the job done and am left alone."

He stopped and looked at me. His eyes had a sheen to them. This man had just fallen in lust. GOD DAMMIT! I looked back at him and did my best to simulate the feeling of lust. He looked at his watch.

"We have about a half-hour. I find you very arousing."

I faked a blush. "I think you are attractive too, however, I don't think this would be the time and place. What are you doing tonight?"

"After I finished my business I was going to leave. I could extend my stay a bit."

"Good, then we can make it a couple of days." If this individual had any other job besides flesh buying I would have taken him up on his offer, for a bounce on the bed. I admit I can be extremely libidinous. I like sex! Not only is it relaxing, it can be remarkably fun. Sharing an activity with people you like or could like is a beautiful way to express love. Under any other circumstances, I would like, hell I would be compelled - he had a stunning body, to drag him to bed, except he didn't turn me on. He was a slave trader. I simply hated him. His death would mean nothing to me, barring the pleasure I would get by putting a bullet between his eyes.

"Paula, I really like you."

"I like you, too, John. I'm sure we may be good friends."

He smiled and nodded. "I would like that."

We walked and talked the remaining half-hour away. The weather had warmed up nicely. We boarded the bus and found our seats. The bus driver started up the engine and off we headed for the next stop. John sat very close to me. His hand palmed my leg. I could see his gratification bulging in his pants. I thought, 'If you weren't the enemy we could have fun.' I didn't like him 'feeling' on me, nevertheless it did give me an edge. When I have to act truculent, he will probably be the last one to react. Well, maybe, never judge a man by his pelts.