“Well, you just might have to face that fact, so get over it.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I’m being realistic. If you want to spend the rest of your life beating yourself up over something you had no control over, then do it.”
“I shouldn’t have called you. I should have let Lamar handle it.”
“Then why did you call me?”
She hesitated, and her voice broke when she answered. “Because I was afraid Lamar couldn’t handle the job. I knew you could. Satisfied?”
Without warning, Max pulled her against him. For a moment, he simply held her, waiting for Jamie to calm down. He sighed heavily. Finally, he pulled back so that he was looking into her eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I got angry with you, babe, but I was worried as hell. Promise me you won’t try anything like that again.”
“I have to know the truth, Max.”
“And we’re doing everything we can.” He released her. “Did you see anything in his place that looked suspicious?”
She told him about the crowbars. “He carries one in his car. If we could get our hands on it—”
“No way,” Max said. “If he looks like our man, I’ll have Lamar Tevis check him out and send the crowbar to the crime lab. Also, I’m going to have Muffin check his and Luanne’s telephone records.”
“Luanne’s picture was recently in the newspaper. We could take it to the Holiday Inn and show it around. See if anybody remembers her being there with Larry.”
“He might find out, and we’ll blow our cover. We just need to have him watched closely for the next couple of days until we can rule out the others. I suppose I could put Destiny on it.”
“That’s fine.” Jamie had no desire to lay eyes on the man again.
Max checked his wristwatch. “We still have time to make dinner at Frankie and Dee Dee’s.”
Jamie was glad he hadn’t canceled. She needed the diversion after what she’d been through. “I’ll follow you.”
VERA BANKHEAD STARED AT HERSELF IN THE MIRror as she tried on the new dress. On the bed behind her were two new pantsuits she’d purchased, as well.
Vera reached inside the little pocket of her purse and pulled out the ad she had cut out of the newspaper that day. “ ‘Open to New Experiences,’ ” she read aloud. She often talked to herself, a result of living alone most of her life. “ ‘Interested in discreet relationship with woman in fifties,’ ” she continued. “Okay, I’m a tad older, but I look pretty good, and I can be as discreet as the next person. Lord knows I wouldn’t want my preacher finding out that I was responding to a personals ad.”
She hurried into her living room where she kept her old Remington typewriter. She typed the address on a plain white envelope and chuckled. “Jamie will never suspect a thing,” she said.
. . .
MAX AND JAMIE ARRIVED AT FRANKIE AND DEE Dee’s house around eight P.M. to find Dee Dee in tears.
“It’s because of the lobsters,” Frankie said miserably. “We had a tank installed in the kitchen. You may have noticed it when you were here for the party. Anyway, I had a bunch of lobsters flown in from Maine, and we were going to have them for dinner tonight, but Dee Dee—”
Dee Dee interrupted. “The chef was going to drop them live into a pot of boiling water, Max.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“Honey, how do you think they cook lobster?” Frankie asked.
“Well, there are more humane ways to prepare them,” Max said, “but I’m sure your chef knows that.”
“I don’t want to hear about it!” Dee Dee cried, palms pressed to her ears. “I want them sent back. Or find homes for them.”
Max and Jamie exchanged looks. Jamie tried to imagine where one would find a good home for a lobster. It wasn’t like they could drop them off at the local animal shelter and hope someone would adopt them.
Beenie had his arms crossed and was tapping his foot impatiently. “Well, I, for one, had my heart set on a nice lobster dinner, but Dee Dee said there will be no murders committed in this house so we’ll all probably end up eating bologna and cheese sandwiches.”
“I’d rather have a big old rare steak anyway,” Snakeman said. “Come on, Big John. You and me can run to the store and pick up a load of ’em.”
“I guess that will be okay,” Dee Dee said. “Since the cows are already dead.”
Jamie walked over to her friend. Dee Dee looked delicate in a cream-colored georgette dress that fell to her ankles. “Honey, I don’t care what we eat as long as it doesn’t distress you. You’re just feeling a little sensitive now that you’re pregnant, and you have every right.”
Dee Dee sniffed. “I told them I wouldn’t mind eating the lobsters once they grew old and died. I’m trying to cooperate.”
“Does anyone know the life span of a lobster?” Beenie asked sarcastically.
No one had heard the chef come into the room. “This is nonsense, waiting for a lobster to die before we can cook him,” the man said. “A lobster must be alive when you cook him or he’s no good. I can put them in the freezer to numb them before I drop them into boiling water.”
Dee Dee burst into tears.
“Scrap the lobster,” Frankie said. “Snakeman is going to buy steaks.”
“This is a crazy house,” the chef muttered under his breath and pushed through the swinging door leading to the kitchen.
“Would you like to go upstairs and lie down for a while before dinner?” Jamie asked Dee Dee.
Beenie softened at the sad look in Dee Dee’s eyes. “Of course she would. Come on, honey, you need to rest a bit, and then I’ll repair your makeup.”
“The rest of the guys are in the game room playing pool and darts,” Frankie said to Max. “Why don’t we join them?”
BEENIE VERY GENTLY PLACED A LAVENDER-scented satin eye mask over Dee Dee’s eyes as she half reclined on a settee, holding her Maltese, Choo-Choo, against her breasts. “I know everyone thinks I’m being foolish,” she said, “but the thought of killing those poor lobsters is more than I can bear.” She sniffed. “I was beginning to think of them as pets.”
Beenie caught Jamie’s eye and shook his head sadly. “Our Dee Dee has been feeling out of sorts all day,” he said. “Tired and weepy,” he added. “She was real upset over that woman’s murder.”
“That poor woman,” Dee Dee said, removing her eye mask. “It’s all I can think about.”
“We’re all very saddened by it,” Jamie told her, “but I’m sure the police are doing everything they can to find the killer.” She offered Dee Dee the closest thing she had to a smile and changed the subject. “You’ll be relieved to know that Muffin is already doing research on pregnancy and child care. She’s ordered a few books for you. By the time this baby comes into the world we’ll all be experts.”
Beenie did a quick repair job on Dee Dee’s eyes. “I just hope I don’t gain a lot of weight,” Dee Dee replied. “You know how I am about my weight.”
“Oh, pooh,” Beenie said. “For once in your life stop worrying about your waistline. Besides, that new fashion designer I selected assured me you’d be the best-looking pregnant woman in town. In the country, even,” he added. “You know what I think? I think a lot of celebrities out there will have their own designers trying to copy your style.”
Dee Dee seemed to perk up at the thought.
“And of course the baby’s nursery will look like something off a magazine cover,” Beenie said. “I’m talking to interior designers who have been commissioned by the biggest names in show business.”
“It sounds so exciting,” Jamie said. “I can’t wait.”
Dee Dee touched her still flat tummy. “Eeyeuuw, I’m going to look like I’m carrying a giant melon,” she said suddenly. “I won’t be able to let Frankie see me in the buff.”
“I’ve heard that a lot of men find pregnant women very sexy,” Jamie said.
“But some women never totally regain their figures after having a baby,” Dee Dee pointed out.
/> “That’s not going to happen,” Beenie said. “Your plastic surgeon can perform liposuction as soon as you deliver the baby. We’ll have him on standby.”
Jamie suppressed a shudder. It sounded rather drastic.
“And what do I know about being a mother?” Dee Dee said. “I’ve never raised anything but a Maltese.” She sat up. “I have to speak to Muffin.”
“Now?” Jamie asked.
“Yes. She always has the answers to all my questions, and I have a lot of questions.”
“You want me to come with you?” Jamie asked.
“Yes. You can take notes.” She glanced at Beenie. “You want to come?”
“No, I’m going to join the guys. I get hot being around all that testosterone.”
“SO YOU’RE SAYING YOU’VE BEEN EXPERIENCING morning sickness for some weeks now?” Muffin said a short while later.
Dee Dee sniffed. “Yes. It isn’t very pleasant.”
“Your doctor has probably told you to keep soda crackers on your night table, right?” Muffin replied.
“I have trouble keeping them down.”
“The nausea should go away after the first couple of months,” Muffin told her. “There are medications to help you through it if you like.”
“I just hate taking anything while I’m pregnant,” Dee Dee said. “What bothers me even more is the fatigue. I get up in the morning and several hours later I’m ready for a nap.”
“It happens to a lot of women,” Muffin told her. “The first three months or trimester, as it’s called, is the worst. Odds are, once you get into your fourth and fifth month you’ll start feeling better. Of course, you’re going to be the size of a refrigerator.”
“Eeyeuuw!” Dee Dee cried.
Muffin chuckled. “Just kidding.”
“Hey, pregnant women are cool,” Jamie said. “Once you start getting big, everyone opens doors for you and waits on you like a princess.”
Dee Dee seemed to ponder it. “But people already do that.”
Muffin spoke up. “Hey, I’ll bet Frankie will start buying you more jewelry.”
Jamie looked up from her notes. “Muffin, what a materialistic thing to say.”
Dee Dee looked at her. “Maybe if I play my cards right I’ll get that new ten-karat solitaire from Tiffany’s I’ve been wanting.” She looked thoughtful. “This pregnancy thing might just end up being the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and when it’s all over, I’ll have a precious little baby boy or girl. It’s a win-win situation.”
“Do you plan on breast-feeding?” Muffin asked.
“Eeyeuuw, I hadn’t thought of that.” Dee Dee was quiet for a moment. Finally, she looked at Jamie. “What do you think?”
“Don’t ask me, I can’t even raise a bloodhound properly. Maybe you’re trying to make too many decisions at once. You’ve barely had time to get used to the thought of being pregnant, much less buying maternity clothes, decorating a nursery, and deciding whether you should breast-feed. You need to relax.”
“How come Frankie isn’t worried about these things?” Dee Dee asked. “I feel like I’m going through most of it alone.”
Jamie grinned. “He’s too happy to be worried. The woman he loves more than anything in the world is going to have his baby. He’s passing out cigars.”
“Are you happy for me, Jamie?” Dee Dee asked.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s silly, but I just wanted to make sure I had your support. And because I’m a little nervous. I want to be the best mother I can be. I never thought I’d feel like this about a baby. It’s a miracle that I got pregnant after all these years, and I don’t want to botch it.”
Jamie reached across the seat and hugged her. “Dee Dee, you are going to be a wonderful mother. And Frankie will be a great father. I think this is one lucky baby.”
“How far along are you?” Muffin asked.
“Six weeks.”
“Well, that’ll give us plenty of time to learn everything we can about babies,” Muffin said.
Dee Dee smiled almost dreamily at Jamie. “You know, I never thought I would be facing motherhood, but this would more fun if you were going through it with me. I mean, you’re my best friend. We’d have a blast if we were both pregnant at the same time. We could shop together.”
Jamie almost swallowed her own tongue. “Um, maybe I should just concentrate on raising Fleas right now.”
IT WAS SHORTLY AFTER ELEVEN P.M. WHEN MAX and Jamie arrived back at her house. Fleas was spread-eagled on the sofa. He didn’t move as they came into the house.
“That’s some watchdog you’ve got there,” Max said.
Jamie walked up to the animal, hands on hips. “Excuse me, but are you supposed to be on the sofa?” she asked.
The dog didn’t budge.
“Okay, play your games, but Max and I are going to have ice cream.”
One of Fleas’s eyes popped open. He raised his head.
“I figured that would get your attention,” Jamie said, going into the kitchen.
Max followed. “You don’t really feed him ice cream, do you?”
Jamie was already pulling a carton of butter pecan from the freezer. “Yeah. He won’t go to bed for the night without his treat.”
Fleas climbed from the sofa and walked into the kitchen. He sat and waited, watching Jamie’s every move. She dipped ice cream into his doggie bowl, and then put some in bowls for Max and her. Fleas had eaten his by the time they carried their bowls to the kitchen table. For a moment, Jamie and Max enjoyed their dessert in silence. Max looked at her.
“I’m sorry I came down so hard on you earlier,” he said. “I almost lost it when you went into Larry Johnson’s apartment. I think he’s dangerous.”
“Or he could just be angry because he had to give up everything in the divorce. He’s hard to figure, but it’s obvious he doesn’t have much respect for women. Still, I have a hard time believing he’s a cold-blooded killer, but then I can’t imagine anyone murdering another human being.” Not that she hadn’t witnessed killing during their trip to Tennessee, she reminded herself. She’d watched the FBI gun down two notorious mob figures, and she still had nightmares about it from time to time.
“Johnson definitely has two things against him,” Max said. “Anger and booze. That can make for a deadly combination. Also, if he has financial problems, he might have taken Luanne Ritter’s jewelry.”
“Assuming, of course, that he killed her,” Jamie added quickly.
They finished their ice cream. Jamie picked up the bowls and carried them to the sink where she rinsed them out. She didn’t hear Max get up, but all at once she felt his arms slide around her waist.
“I really missed you while I was away, Swifty,” he said, his mouth at her ear.
Jamie tried to suppress the shiver that raced up her backbone and reached for the towel to dry her hands. “I missed you, too, Max,” she said.
He turned her around so that she was facing him, and the two gazed at each other for a moment. Finally, Max kissed her.
Jamie could taste the ice cream on his tongue as he explored her mouth. She slipped her arms around his neck and drew him even closer. She had been waiting for Max to kiss her for most of the evening, and now she opened her mouth wider to receive him.
Max broke the kiss and studied her. “Remember that unfinished business back in Tennessee?”
Jamie blushed in spite of herself. Her with her skirt shoved high on her hips, Max’s mouth on her, tasting. “Yes.” The word was little more than a whisper.
“I’d like to finish it.”
He took her hand and led her to her bedroom. He walked over to the nightstand and switched on the light. At Jamie’s look, he smiled. “I want to be able to get a good look at you.” He pulled her into his arms once more; this time there was a look of sheer determination on his face. Jamie welcomed his hands on her breasts and closed her eyes as her nipples contracted, despite the clothing that sep
arated them. She gave in to the wonderful sensations his touch created.
Max reached around and unzipped her dress, kissing each shoulder as he bared it. He released the garment and it fell to her feet. Jamie kicked off her heels and was left standing there in her bra and panties, the ones she’d bought at Sinful Delights.
“Jesus, Swifty,” Max said, his voice suddenly husky. “I’d like to know where you buy your lingerie.”
She smiled coyly and reached for the buttons on his shirt, but her fingers trembled as she undid them. Finally, she pulled the shirt free, and Max stood there with his chest bare, looking better than anything she’d ever laid eyes on. She ran her hands over him. Her stomach fluttered. If she’d known he looked this good, she would have jumped into the sack with him sooner.
Max reached around and unfastened her bra. He tossed it aside and pulled her into his arms. Skin met skin. Jamie’s body responded immediately.
Max cupped her breasts in his hands and then he lowered his head and kissed the spot between them. Jamie held his head tightly against her as she felt her insides swoop upward. Max’s hands suddenly appeared at her hips. He kneaded the flesh before pulling her against him where she could feel his hardness. Something hot flashed low in her belly.
Jamie whimpered his name as he buried his face against her throat. “Oh, Max.”
“I know, Jamie. I know.” He picked her up and carried her the short distance to the bed.
Jamie reached for his belt, fumbled with it until she was able to unfasten it. “I could use some help, Holt.”
He grinned and pulled off his socks and shoes. Finally, he unzipped his pants. It took only seconds for him to dispense with them. His boxers followed. Jamie’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of his lean but slightly muscular body.
Max joined her on the bed, pulled her into his arms once more, and kissed her deeply. He pulled back slightly. “Birth control?” he whispered.
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