All in all, it was about two months. Even then, he felt guilty when his mind turned to Llona. But not so guilty any more that he wasn't determined to find her. The trouble was he had no idea of how to go about doing it. He knew only her first name. And he remembered the first name of her dead husband. But that was all.
He thought a lot about finding her, but that didn't help. He found he had absolutely no interest in other girls. This time it was going to be Llona or no one. And as time dragged on with no hint of her whereabouts, it began to look like no one.
Then one day, quite by chance, his eye was caught by a small ad in the back pages of a newspaper. It was an advertisement for the Confidential Detective Agency. Archer felt a glimmering of hope. It was worth the investment, no matter what it cost. The next day, quite early, he was sitting across the desk from Sammy Spayed and describing the girl he wanted found.
Sammy seemed to be listening with interest and sympathy. But in reality, his mind was racing ahead and making plans. Five minutes after Archer had entered, Sammy had realized that the girl he was looking for was none other than his erstwhile client Mrs. George Rutherford. Sammy could have solved his case on the spot. But-!
But there would be small profit in that. And at the moment, Sammy had cause to be very interested in profit. One pregnant wife, one expectant girlfriend, eight kids with mouths to feed and two more mouths on the way, and both wife and mistress pressuring him to get out of the detective business-yes, Sammy had need to prove himself, and to prove himself by being able to display cash in hand. So he accepted Archer's case and a juicy retainer along with it.
Progress was slow, but there was progress. That's what Sammy told Archer with each weekly report for the next six weeks. Expenses ran high, but that was to be expected. And there was no point in Archer's chafing at the bit; these things took time. Sammy played it like an experienced angler, lettig out line, pulling it in, making sure there was enough play to keep the fish hooked. And when it became obvious that it had gone as far as it could go, he reeled Archer in, told him he'd found his lady friend, and promised to send him a final bill after Archer had determined for himself that Sammy really had solved the case.
Archer determined it within the hour. He rang Llona's doorbell, and when she answered it, they fell into each other's arms. They stayed that way a long moment before Llona finally spoke.
"Your wife-?" she murmured regretfully.
"She's dead."
"Yes, but-"
"Really dead. Buried. Like your husband. A terrible accident. On our wedding night. Dreadful tragedy." He squeezed her breast in a plea for sympathy.
"I'm so sorry." She kissed him, a long, deep kiss of commiseration.
A moment later they were tearing each other's clothes off. Quite a while after that, they resumed their conversation. "It's so good to have found you again," Archer sighed.
"Oh, yes!"
"I'm never going to let you go. I might never see you again if I did. After all, how often do either of us get married?"
"Just once more, I hope," she murmured.
"Then you will marry me?"
"WiU I ever!"…
Once again the wedding reception took place in the home of Llona's parents. After the church ceremony, she and Archer went directly upstairs to change into their traveling clothes. They paused to embrace in the upstairs hallway. "See you later, darling," Archer said when the kiss was over. He went into one of the rooms where his clothes had been laid out. Llona entered her own room and closed the door behind her.
She crossed over to the bathroom and locked that door.
Quickly then, she stripped off her clothes. Humming to herself, she lay down on the bed naked to snatch a few moments' relaxation. After a while she got up, stretched, and started slowly toward the door of her walk-iri wardrobe closet. Her full breasts and slightly heavy hips swayed sensually as she walked. Her face was young and shiny and alive with expectancy. Her hand reached out and grasped the doorknob. She opened the door to the closet.
There was a bottle in the lap of the handsome young man seated on the floor of the closet. He looked up at her with eyes that seemed filled with lust. Her knees grew weak, and hot flushes of desire suffused her body under his appreciative stare.
"I can explain," he stammered.
"Don't bother," Llona told him firmly. Determinedly she fought off the feelings his unexpected presence had elicited. "Don't bother explaining anything." She closed the door quickly and locked it from the outside. Then she went across the room for a towel, came back, and hung it over the keyhole.
Catching her own eye in the mirror as she started to dress, Llona gave a nod of satisfaction. Virtue was triumphant. She was proud of herself. Archer was waiting. And the young man in the closet? Well, he could just stay in the closet. She was damned if she was going to go through all that again!
Llona nodded to herself again as she inserted her plump breasts in the cups of her brassiere. Archer was waiting. Her heart was singing. And the song went like this-
"There once was a passionate lass
Who never missed a pass,
Until she was wed,
And using her head,
Turned down a piece of…"