The next week I was ready to take a jog around my premises. It was good to get the fresh air in my lungs and get out of that house. It was August 20. Tricia and I were going to go for a jog early in the morning. She came over and met me outside. . .

“Hi, Tricia, ready for a good run?” I asked my aerobically dressed secretary.

“Run, I thought you said jog.”

“Jog, run, what’s the difference?”

“I’d rather jog.”

“Fine.” I responded. We stretched out, and started jogging. My leg had not fully recovered so she had to go a little slower than she planned.

“I thought you were wanting to run. You’re barely jogging!”

“Well, I’m an optimist, see. If I think I can run, I will eventually run.” We jogged by the pond, where I stopped for air. “You know, It’s a pity that that palette was a fake.”

“Yes, but where do you suppose the real one is?”

“Who knows. If I was Matt, I would put it right under our noses.”

“Okay, Sherlock. Where would you put it?”

“Well, if I was Matt and knew that Adam couldn’t swim, I would put it in water.”

“Like this pond? ? ?” She stopped.

“THE POND!!!” I said. Taking off her shoes, Tricia dived into the pond. In about two minutes she surfaced. “See anything?” I shouted.

“Not yet!” She replied, going under again. This time she came up with something in her hand. She swam to shore and I helped her out of the water.

“Here.” I said, offering her my jacket, and taking the package.

“Thanks.” She replied. “If this is what we think it is. . .”

“Right, let’s get inside.” We went in the back door which brought us into the kitchen. Tricia was shivering. Hannah came in the kitchen to talk to Karin, when she saw us.

“Tricia, isn’t it kind of early to go for a swim. You could catch a cold!” She said.

“I think we’ve found the palette!” I exclaimed.

“Well, that’s all well and good, but Tricia needs to get out of those clothes. Come with me.” She said, taking Tricia upstairs. A little while later she returned. “Tricia wants to see you, I had to borrow some of your clothes since mine were too big, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s in the room across the hall from you.”

“I think I’ll go see her, alone.” Just as I was about to limp up the stairs, Karin came around the bend with some soup.

“I’ll take that, if you don’t mind.” I said, taking the soup. I went up the stairs and into Tricia’s room. “How are you feeling?” I asked, approaching, and sitting on a chair next to the bed.

“Not so good.” She stated. I ran my fingers through her hair.

“I have some soup for you.”

“Thanks.” I spoon fed her a little, until she had had enough.

“Is it in there?”

“I haven’t looked. I was waiting for you to come down.”

“Go ahead and open it.”

“All right, I brought it up just in case you said that.” I said, bringing around the package. Opening it, I found the palette inside. We laughed and she coughed. “You’d better stay in bed. I’ll have Hannah look after you until you get better.” I said.

“Thanks.” She repeated, and fell asleep. I walked downstairs, telling Hannah that I wanted her to look after Tricia until she got better. She agreed, and went right away. I spoke to David about returning the Palette, which he did. I was thanked, and so the mystery ended.

But what about those few probing questions? You ask. Your wife that you are supposed to meet in six days. That man in Hawaii. Your memory fade. That strange wedding. Do you ever go back to work? Does Tricia get better. . . The answers lie in the next adventures of Detective Schofield.

The End