Kiss and Kill by Ellery Queen

need?”
    â€œMillions.”
    â€œNo kidding. A hundred thousand?”
    â€œWe’re getting into fantasy.”
    â€œOkay,” he said. “Just don’t keel over when I cover this body of yours with thousand-dollar bills.”
    She laughed. “I’ll sew them into a bikini and wear it to the beach.”
    â€œWith a ten-carat diamond in your navel.”
    They got a little squiffy that afternoon. The Mexican woman killed a chicken and fried it, and Claire wished that she could stop time forever; joy existed only here, beside this little lagoon in the jungle. They slept that night on a straw mat in a thatched hut. The bugs would have eaten them alive if they had not rubbed each other repeatedly with insect repellent.
    The next morning the group came chugging upriver, some of them worried, the others merely curious. At first there was a tendency to giggle and leer at the fact that Johnny and Claire had obviously spent the night together. But Claire’s glow and Johnny’s possessive calmness soon killed the awkwardness. The visit turned into a celebration. It was late afternoon when they all returned to the hotel.
    That night at dinner the food stuck in Claire’s throat. She caught Johnny’s eye and walked out to the beach. He came up behind her and kissed her neck.
    â€œI got a room by myself tonight,” he said. “Mosquito netting over the bed. It’s like a little bower.”
    â€œWhat have you done to me, Johnny?”
    He grinned. “If you don’t know by now, you’d better see your analyst.”
    â€œYou know what I mean. You make me feel as if I’m about to explode.”
    He fondled her. “We’ll trigger it.”
    â€œDamn you! Leave your door unlocked.”
    Three nights later in the crummy hotel in Guadalajara, Liz said: “I think I’ll get my own room from now on.”
    Claire looked at her. “Why?”
    â€œYou never sleep in it. You’ll catch your death running through the corridors at night in your pajamas. Let him come to you.”
    â€œLiz, I’ve never done this before—” She felt the pink tide again.
    â€œYou don’t have to explain to me. You might as well move in together. He’s a damned attractive man. Sex personified.” Liz shrugged. “I’m happy for you, only …”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHe’s so … obscure, so mysterious about what he does for a living. Look, it’s none of my business. Why don’t I shut up?”
    Claire stared at the fly-specked ceiling. It was bothering her, too. Johnny grew vague and flippant when she brought the subject up, and she had stopped doing it. His evasions gave her a funny feeling. And it annoyed her with herself. After all, what difference did it make? When the tour was over, they would part and go their separate ways; they would probably never lay eyes on each other again.
    There was another thing: Now and then he would vanish like smoke, and Claire would find herself pacing the lobby, waiting for him to rematerialize. Oaxaca … Taxco … Cuernavaca … Was he tiring of her already? Had he found another girl?
    Once Liz said: “Don’t fret, Claire. He’ll be back. He went scouting for a seafood restaurant.” And Claire felt a jealous anger because he had told Liz and not her.
    â€œYou’d have wanted to come along,” explained Johnny when he showed up. “I had to be alone for a while.”
    â€œWhy?” murmured Claire, already melting.
    â€œSo that I could forget what you looked like. Now I’ve the fun of discovering you again.”
    She could never get serious with him; he immediately dodged into flippancy. When Johnny sat next to Liz at the corrida in Mexico City, Claire was furious.
    â€œI came in late,” Johnny pointed out. “You were sitting between Rod Aiken and Mrs. Barton. What should I have done, booted one of them off the