Twilight Hunger by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page B

ecstasy.
    Max set Storm’s cup down in front of her and bent to help herself to a doughnut, knowing they would vanish if she didn’t.
    â€œYou care to elaborate on that answer, or are you just gonna go with the one-syllable reply?”
    Stormy swallowed, licked her lips, took a sip of her coffee. She still had a ring of powdered sugar around her mouth, but what the hell?
    â€œWho wouldn’t be in the same house? Shoot, girl, your mother gave it to you free and clear. You’d have been nuts not to take it. And I fail to see any rut. You’re running not one, but two, businesses. Both turning a profit, I might add.”
    â€œBarely,” Maxine muttered. She sighed, dunked herdough nut and took a big soggy bite. When she finished, she dropped the first of her two bombshells. “Web page design is getting boring, Stormy. To tell you the truth, I’m thinking about drop ping it.”
    Stormy blinked. “Dropping it?”
    â€œClosing it down.”
    Setting her coffee mug on her desk, Storm got to her feet. “Why would you do that? That’s where you earn most of your income.”
    â€œYeah, but it was never my life’s work. I mean, it’s okay. I’m good at it, but it’s not my dream job. Never was.”
    â€œSo what are you telling me? They’re hiring over at Spies-R-Us?”
    Max shot her a quick glance. “Don’t even joke about that.”
    â€œThen what?” Storm threw her hands in the air, turning in a slow circle and searching the ceiling for an explanation. “I thought this side business of yours was enough to satisfy your inner snoop, Max. I mean, hasn’t it been?”
    â€œNo, it hasn’t. If anything, it’s only whetted my appetite.” Max had kind of stumbled into the realm of Internet crime investigations when one of her Web clients asked her advice in dealing with a cyber-stalker a year ago. Since then, she had helped track down a half-dozen others by tracing them through their super-anonymous, supposedly untraceable screennames. She had even helped to bust up several hoax rings revolving around so-called paranormal sciences. Scam artists who went online hawking everything from psychic readings to ghost-busting powders. Which was perfectly legal until you tied them to their partners, who harassed andsome times frightened gullible people into believing they needed otherworldly help, then fed information to the scam artist, who used it to convince the client he was really in touch with “the other side.”
    All of this had given Max the opportunity to touch base with her favorite cop now and then. Not that that had any bearing on her decision to move into this line of work.
    â€œSo what would you say if I told you I was thinking about embarking on another little enterprise?” she asked.
    Storm turned to face her, searched her face warily. “A third business?”
    â€œI’m dropping the Web designing services. So it would only be a second business. And, in fact, it would be more like taking the existing one to a new, higher level.”
    â€œWhat do you have in mind?”
    Max wiped the doughnut sugar from her fingers onto her jeans and went to her desk. She opened a drawer, took out a sheet of paper, slid it across the surface. “Take a look at this and tell me what you think.”
    Storm came closer, leaned over it, reading aloud. “Maxine Stuart, Licensed Private…” Then she looked up. “Licensed private investigator? Since when?”
    â€œIt just came today. I sent in the application months ago.”
    â€œMaxie…”
    â€œLook, I know. It sounds way over the top, but if you think about it, it’s what we’ve been doing anyway. Just in cyberspace instead of real time.”
    â€œThey can’t shoot you in cyberspace.” Storm rolled her eyes. “Who else knows about this?”
    Max shrugged.
    â€œMaxine Stuart, who else