The doorbell rang right on time. Leroy had been looking out the window and saw him coming up onto the stoop.

"He's here," he called to Billie. "I think you should find someone else to rent the apartment.  He's... uhm.. "

"He's uhm what?" she asked.

"Too... too!" Leroy replied as the doorbell rang.

Billie halted with her hand on the doorknob.  "Too what?  You haven't even met him yet."

"He's slick. I can tell," Leroy replied, frowning.

Billie scowled.  "It's DC.  Everybody looks slick.  Now behave," she said as she opened the door.  She turned and smiled and then her smile got brighter.  "Hi honey, I'm Billie Jo.  You must be  Sebastian?"

His smile was wide and friendly. "Yes. Sebastian Markham.  Call me Sam everyone does. My initials.  Sebastian is a bit much don't you think?"

"It has a certain old world, cultured appeal," Billie said, letting him enter.  "This is Leroy Saunders."

Sebastian held out his hand to Leroy once Billie finally let it go. "Pleased to meet you."

Leroy scowled. "You British?"

"No, Bermudan. But I've been living in the States for some time. The accent is a bit hard to lose, though."

Billie nudged Leroy, frowning at him.  Then she gestured vaguely.  "I can show you around first if you'd like and then answer your questions.  You said you needed a short term lease, six months?"

"Yes, if that's possible. I understand you want some stability in your arrangements."

She nodded.  "My sisters and I own the house.  We've lived here for a long time.  I'm on the top floor with Leroy and Bobbie's in the middle.  This was Betty's apartment until she moved to England.  So while we'd like that, it's more important to us who we rent to."

"Ah, well, if it's your family's house that makes a lot of sense. I'm pretty quiet, don't throw wild parties.  So if I seem to be all right to you so far I'd like to see it."

Billie ignored Leroy and nodded.  "It's a one and a half bedroom, which really means there's a small room that you can use as a spare bedroom or a den, up to you.  And one and a half baths," she explained as she led him towards the back of the apartment, pointing out the closet space, the roomy bathroom, the large bedroom and then back towards the living room and the kitchen.  "The fireplace works, and there's a laundry room in the basement and extra storage space down there as well.   Parking is whatever you can find around here.  And there's a cleaning lady who comes in once a week who'd be happy to stay on if you'd like."

He looked around, checked the closets, stepped around Leroy, and commented looking out the windows that overlooked the street. "Looks like a nice quiet neighborhood. Good location for me. I'm a consultant working with the UK embassy at the moment.  The cleaning lady would be great."

"Consultant huh," Leroy commented. "Consulting on what?"

Sam looked at him and said, with a hint of a smile. "Cultural affairs."

"Ah, so that's why the fancy suit?" Leroy asked.

Sam shrugged.

"The rent, as the ad said, is two thousand a month furnished.  That includes utilities," Billie said, giving Leroy a look that promised retribution.  "The security deposit is two months rent."

"Will you accept a check, or do you prefer cash?"

"Well," Billie said, "What I'd really like are two personal references, two professional references including one where I can verify employment and income, and your social security number or the Bermudan  equivalent because I'm going to run a credit and criminal background check.  Nothing personal," she added.  "If all that checks out then a check is fine."

"I understand. No problem."  He pulled a fountain pen out of his jacket pocket and a small monogrammed leather notepad.  He jotted down two names and phone numbers, . "I'll leave you my card so you can contact me. I'll write the number at the Embassy on the back for you. I assume someone there will serve as a professional reference?  Will my passort do for the ID?"  he handed her the paper and his card and then pulled out his passport. "I just flew back from home so luckily have it with me. Listen, if you'd prefer not to rent to a foreign national I'm fine with that."

"She didn't say that," Leroy huffed. "It's ... we just like knowing who we're dealing with."

"Ah, I see. Well, if you decide not to rent with me once you've run my name past Homeland Security, do let me know. At the moment I'm dossing down on a sleeper sofa and three rugrats wake me up at dawn. My friend thinks he's doing me a favor and I'm reluctant to tell him it's torture rather than kindness."

She smiled.  "I'll call and let you know one way or another tomorrow afternoon probably," she said.  "And if everything checks out as I imagine it will you can move in as soon as your check clears.  Does that work?  Oh and you'll need to meet Bobbie first too, but that shouldn't be a problem."

"Bobby? Your brother?"

"No, my sister.  My mother named us after the sisters on Petticoat Junction, an old TV show...Betty Jo, Bobbie Jo and Billie Jo," she said, laughing.  "Betty and Bobbie are twins."

"Ah. How delightful. And you, Leroy? Your accent seems a bit different."

"I'm dating Billie," Leroy replied his eyes narrowed. "And I live here."

"Ah, I see."

"With Billie," Leroy clarified.

Billie frowned, looking from one to the other.  It had to be some obscure guy thing.  "So is there anything else I can tell you?" she asked, turning the frown upside down.

"Listen, it seems perhaps this is not the best situation for me. I'll just keep looking."

She was going to kill Leroy just as soon as she sorted this out.  "I do hope that's not true," she said, giving him a smile that lit the room.  "So at the risk of more frankness than might be usual let me just say that Leroy is having a bad day so you shouldn't mind him.  He's much nicer after he's been fed and changed."

"It's also that some of our friends have had a pretty bad time lately and I'm just a tad paranoid about safety, but then I'm a cop so maybe that explains it," Leroy said, looking at Billie a bit belligerently.

"Oh? Well, if your family has been recently hurt, then that perhaps explains it. A cop?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Leroy replied.

"No uniform?" Same asked pointedly looking at Leroy's too long jeans, and his worn sweatshirt that said Arkansas Razorbacks.

"We work for the feds," Billie said.  "They don't go in much for uniforms.  They don't pay all that much either, so we shop at the Goodwill a lot."

Leroy sputtered, then glared at Billie.

"I'll leave you two to sort things out then, shall I? Please. If I don't hear from you by tomorrow close of business I'll assume I was found wanting. Good day. It was, I admit, quite an experience to meet you. Both."

"I'll just show you the door," Leroy offered and led Sebastian to it.  He shut it securely once the Bermudan was gone. "There, that's done."

"What's your problem?" she demanded, "behaving like that?"

"There's something about him that rubs me the wrong way," Leroy said, his bottom lip sticking out like it did when he was feeling stubborn.

She reached out and put her index finger on the pouting lip, tapping it like she was working out with a punching bag.  "It's your overactive imagination.  He's a typical mid level diplomatic type, smooth and polished.  They take classes in it along with etiquette, protocol and which fork to use when."

"Yeah? There are special forks?  And that suit. It ain't off no rack. Ian wears shit like that.  I don't think a mid-level diplomat could afford something like that."

""The only way he could afford this place is if he does have his own money.  We set the rent high to weed out the undesirables.  I thought we should be asking twenty-five or more, but Bobbie said no."

"Here gimme those notes. I wanna check him out myself," Leroy said. "I may even go to the Embassy."

She handed them to him.  "You're seriously worried about this guy aren't you?  Why not lift a print or two and run those as well just in case?"

"Look. After what happened to Betty Jo... I'm scared to death of something like that happening to you. Or Bobbie, of course."

"Honey I know.  And I appreciate it, truly.  Which is why I meant it.  Lift the prints and run them," she said.  "I'm okay with that.  What I'm not okay with is you treating him like something the cat dragged in on no evidence.

"All right. I'll lift the prints. I'm sorry. It wasn't my place either."

She frowned at that and put her arms around him.  "It wasn't not your place, sweetie.  You've as much right as Bobbie or I to worry about who moves in here."

"Yeah? Okay, I promise. If he turns up clean I won't act like a shit again."

She kissed him.  "You really are sweet."

"No I'm not. But if I got you fooled I'm happy."

Bobbie looked around Betty's apartment and sighed.  "It still seems so odd not having her living here."

"I know," Billie said.  "But I'm glad she's so happy, even missing her so much.  And I'm glad she's doing so good after what happened.  I'm hoping she'll be back to work soon."

The bell rang at that point and Bobbie went to answer it.  Sam had his back to the door when she opened it, looking out over the quiet neighborhood. He turned when he heard the door.  A slow smile spread across his face as he saw Bobbie. "No, you are definitely not a brother. Hullo. I'm Sam. Sebastian Andrew Markham.  Bobbie?"

"Yes," she said.  "Bobbie Jo DuBois, to be exact.  Won't you please come in?"

"Thank you," he said as she showed him in. "Hullo, Ms DuBois," he added as he saw Billie. "I take it I checked out fine?"

Billie laughed.  "Please, it's Billie.  And yes, you checked out perfectly, I'm delighted to say."

"I'm relieved to hear it. Especially as the Embassy also ran extensive background checks on me. I'll be sure to let them know their findings have been confirmed. I've your check here."

"I'm sure they were much more thorough than we were," she said accepting the check.

"Billie tells me you do something with cultural affairs at the British Embassy?  It sounded almost James Bond-like when she said it," Bobbie said, from the sofa.

Simon walked in until he was a bit closer and smiled down at her. "It should be so interesting. Mostly I arrange pleasant sojourns on Bermuda for millionaires. You've no idea how boring that can be."

"And here I thought travel agents had glamorous jobs," she said, a twinkle in her eye.  "All those places on the posters, that sort of thing."

"Have you been to my country?" he asked.  "I'd love to show it to you properly."

"No," she said, "I haven't."  She paused for a moment.  "I hope you enjoy the apartment.  Betty left everything you should need, but if she or we missed something, do let us know."

"I will be certain to do so. Please, let me know when my check clears. I'm rather eager to sleep in a real bed again."

Billie nodded.  "I'll take it to the bank in the morning.  They were real nice to down there and said they could tell me when I deposited it," she said.  "So I expect you'll hear from me tomorrow."

Sam grinned. "You've no idea how I look forward to hearing from you. And it was very nice meeting you, Ms Dubois," he added bowing to Bobbie.

"Thank you," she said.  "It was nice meeting you."

Billie smiled.  "I agree," she said.

"Until tomorrow then," Sam said and made his good byes. The girls watched him saunter down the street. He smiled to himself.  When he was certain he was out of sight around the corner, he pulled out his cell phone and punched a speed dial number. When it was answered he reported, "I'll be in place tomorrow. With luck I'll have a good idea how to get to it in a week or so."