Read Chance Of A Lifetime 1987 for Free Online Page A

mysterious as he was beginning to think she was.
    Inside the house, he dialed the number of the domestic service agency that had provided him with Mrs. Vinson.
    „I’m very sorry, Mr. Chance, but we simply don’t have anyone else to send at the moment,“ the frosty voice on the
    other end of the line informed him. „It’s unfortunate Mrs. Vinson didn’t work out. She was our last available
    housekeeper. We’ll call you if we locate anyone else who might be suitable.“
    Translated, that meant Mrs. Vinson had already spread the word that Snowball’s Chance was not exactly a plum
    assignment. Women these days could be damn choosy.
    Chance replaced the receiver with a thoughtful air. He had his first answer about Miss Rachel Wilder. She
    definitely was not from the domestic service agency that had sent Mrs. Vinson.
    He went back out to the coach house, where he’d been inventorying several years’ worth of broken tools,
    discarded appliances, rusted gardening equipment, auto parts, and the other assorted debris that tended to collect in
    such places over a period of time. He had been delighted to discover that a great deal of the stuff was still in useful
    condition.
    The coach house was a tall building that had originally been designed to shelter carriages and buggies. It had later
    been used for automobiles, but there was no room inside these days for a car. The accumulation of junk filled most of
    the first level; more was piled in the loft overhead. A ladder led up to the loft, and the place was illuminated by a dingy
    light bulb that hung from a chain attached to the ceiling. The light didn’t extend much above the first level. Telling
    himself that he would have to rig up something better one of these days, Chance went back to work.
    There was a treasure trove of useful objects to be inventoried, and Chance was enjoying the process. They didn’t
    make hammers the way they used to, he thought as he examined a rusty specimen. The wooden shaft was broken, but
    the iron head was still in great condition. He hefted it. Nice balance. One of these days he’d see about replacing the
    handle. He tossed it into the save pile.
    He went on to a tangle of wrenches that had lain for years in an old, rusted-out toolbox. A man could collect
    wrenches for a lifetime and still not have just the right size he needed in a true plumbing emergency. Chance went
    through the wrenches one by one and finally opted to keep them all. Better to be safe than sorry.
    As yet, there was nothing in the discard pile.
    While he sorted through the valuable junk, Chance let his mind play with the mystery surrounding Rachel Wilder.
    It was possible she was a personal friend of Mrs. Vinson’s who had needed a job. Mrs. Vinson might have quietly
    passed along the information that work was available if Rachel was really desperate and then told the agency not to
    bother sending anyone else.
    But even if that were the case, it didn’t answer many questions. It was obvious that Rachel wasn’t a career
    housekeeper, in spite of her lectures on the subject of professional image. Chance knew a lot about professional
    images, and he knew where he’d seen Rachel’s type in the past.
    Young women like her were usually found working their way up through some corporation’s management ranks. Or
    running their own entrepreneurial firms. Or married to successful men and raising successful children. Women with
    Rachel’s image rarely took on jobs as housekeepers in remote locations working under less than ideal conditions.
    Okay, Chance thought, so she’s not a housekeeper. She might be another free-lance writer like that pesty Braxton.
    Perhaps she had met Mrs. Vinson, and when the older woman had left, she’d used the opportunity to insinuate herself
    into the household. A definite possibility.
    Chance hefted an old saw, liking the feel of the wooden grip. So what if the blade was missing a few teeth? He
    decided to keep the tool. A man needed good tools