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This could be the guy.Entering the cabin, Phelps seized his binoculars and, from the security of his hidden position, focused upon the woman once again through a tiny vented window. Ah, God. This one was superb! Who was she? Was she alone at the hotel? The woman's bathing suit was tasteful, even understated, but her behavior at the pool had seemed subtly seductive. There were no men nearby who could be seen admiring her, but Phelps knew that behind the darkened plate glass windows near the pool the hotel's restaurant might contain dozens of admirers. In all likelihood, the woman at the pool knew this as well. Her movements were slow and sensuous, well-calculated to attract.Phelps' blood was stirring. He couldn't just sail away to his temporary hole in the wall twenty miles downriver. This woman was too exceptional to ignore.He would have to explore the possibilities."The creepy son of a bitch," Madeleine thought. "He's in there, looking at me, right now." She couldn't see him, but. Thejoke was on him because I'd actually continued coming here ever since.Coming here for class was about the only acceptable excuse for missingmy dinner curfew and arriving home late, and even that was somewhatbegrudging.As I walked towards the door, I saw the sign in the window that said'Learn to defend yourselves. Great for women'. This was the sign thatDad had seen and which had made him sign me up for the classes here.Apparently he'd never read the smaller signs, much less went in andtalked to the instructor. Ironically if he had, he probably would havesigned me up for classes here anyway, just not as a joke.There was a smaller sign above the door, which Dad had obviously missed.It said 'Frankenstein's Self-Defense'. That alone should have given Dada clue that this wasn't the kind of place that he'd expected.I went inside and saw the instructor standing in the middle of the openand padded floor. "Greetings sensei," I said giving him a bow."Don't give me that sensei crap,".
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