“You’re usually friendlier. Even to people you’ve just met.”
“I think it had a lot to do with her kooky dog.”
“You don’t like her.”
Jamie didn’t respond because he was right. It could have been her imagination, but she hadn’t appreciated the way Barbara had looked at Max. But then, he always drew stares from the opposite sex.
Oh, geez, she had been jealous. She had all the symptoms of being in love. She could try to convince herself otherwise, but she knew better.
Problem was, Max probably knew, as well. That was the worst part.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAX FOLLOWED JAMIE INSIDE THE HOUSE WITH the bag of doughnuts. “About last night,” he began.
“I’d rather not discuss last night,” Jamie said, avoiding eye contact. “We’ve got a murder to solve.”
“I’ll grant you that, but we probably need to discuss what’s going on between us.”
Jamie looked at him. “And what is going on between us, Max?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Funny, that’s the same word I’d use.”
“I have very strong feelings for you, Jamie. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
“Save it, Max. I think I know where this is going.”
He stepped closer. “I don’t think you do.”
“Then tell me.”
He hesitated. “I don’t want to lose you. But I’m not sure what our future holds. I spent most of the night thinking about you. I need time.”
Jamie knew better. Time would not change anything. “I really have a lot on my mind right now,” she said, wanting to change the subject. Max did not have to spell it out for her.
“I know,” he said softly. He was quiet for a moment. “So, you were going jogging, huh? You look like you’re in pretty good shape to me.”
She shrugged.
“I have doughnuts,” he said.
Damn the man. He knew doughnuts were her weakness.
“Would you rather I leave?”
That was the last thing she wanted. “No.”
Max offered Fleas another doughnut. The dog inhaled it. So much for her plan for the two of them to start eating healthy, Jamie thought.
The doorbell rang, and Jamie stood. Max looked at her. “What is this, Grand Central Station? Don’t you ever have time to yourself?”
“Vera’s test-driving another car,” Jamie said. “She called earlier, wants me to have a look.” Jamie opened the door before Vera had time to ring the bell a second time. The woman was dressed in a purple pantsuit and hot-pink scarf. It was obvious she’d taken a lot of time with her hair and makeup.
“What do you think?” she asked Jamie, turning around so Jamie could get a better look at her outfit. “My preacher’s going to have a hissy fit when he sees me coming down the aisle for communion this morning.”
“You look great,” Jamie said.
“I feel great. I figure age is just a state of mind, know what I mean?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Quick, come check out the cool wheels I’m test-driving. I don’t have much time because I’m going to the early church service, then a bunch of us girls are attending the singles breakfast. Let the guys get a load of me in this outfit. ’Course, they’re too old to do anything about it if you get my drift.”
Jamie glanced past Vera and found herself looking at a white Jaguar. “Oh, geez.”
“It’s eight years old,” Vera said, “but you’d never know it. Isn’t it beautiful? The dealer said he can give me a really good deal on it.”
Jamie looked at her. “Why can’t you buy something sensible?”
“Because I don’t want to ruin my new image,” Vera said. “Besides, I can afford a car like this as long as it’s not brand-new.”
“I think you’d better have Max look at it,” Jamie said. She turned, almost bumping into an amused Max.
“A Jag, huh?” he said to Vera.
“Yeah. Would you mind taking a look at it?”
Max followed her outside where he spent a few minutes checking it over before Vera pulled away.
“I shouldn’t have lent her the red Mustang,” Jamie said. “I’ve created a monster.”
“She’s just having fun,” Max said. “Speaking of which, why don’t you and I spend the day investigating a few of the guys, then have dinner tonight.”
Jamie wrestled with the thought. It was tempting.
“Say yes, Jamie.”
She wanted to go in the worst way. “What should I wear?”
“Something a little dressy,” he said. “And wear that black thing underneath it.”
Jamie’s stomach fluttered. She was playing with fire, and she was likely to get burned.
DESTINY ARRIVED AT JAMIE’S HOUSE AN HOUR later.
“I’m sorry if I sounded rude last night,” Jamie said. “I still don’t believe in all this otherworldly stuff, but we do need your help.”
Destiny shrugged. “Like I said, I’m used to it.” She looked at Max. “I drove by Larry’s car lot on the way over and saw the new Corvette you mentioned parked beside the building so he’s obviously working. I also picked up a pair of binoculars.”
Max handed her a photo of Johnson. “This should help.”
Jamie arched a brow. “How’d you come up with such a good picture in so little time?”
“Holt Technology, Swifty.”
“Why aren’t you going to the police with your suspicions?” Destiny asked.
“And tell them what?” Max said. “We don’t have anything on him. Yet,” he added.
“He’s very angry,” Destiny said. “I sense that about him even though I haven’t seen him.”
“You’ve got that right,” Jamie said, then realized it was the first time she had agreed with anything Destiny said.
“Oh, by the way,” Max said, “I’d like for you to try and meet with the chef today if you have time.”
“What excuse is she going to use?” Jamie asked.
Destiny smiled. “I’ll come up with something. I don’t have trouble meeting men.”
“Dumb question,” Jamie said.
Max grinned. “I’m going to have Jamie pretend to have car trouble so we can get a look at the mechanic, then we’ll try to set up a meeting with John Price, the accountant.”
“What about the other guy? Mr. ‘Deeper Than the Night’?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been saving him for you,” Max said. “Why don’t you call him today and see what you can work out?”
“Tell me this,” Destiny said. “If he’s rich and good-looking, why would he run an ad in a personals section?”
“He just moved back to town and is obviously looking for a way to meet women. He appears clean, but the fact that Luanne Ritter died only a week after he moved back to Beaumont makes him a suspect. If the murder had anything to do with the personals section. Plus, I have his cell phone record proving he and Luanne talked. She must’ve written to him the minute his ad hit the paper. I suspect she contacted everyone who ran an ad.”
“She must’ve been very lonely,” Destiny said.
Jamie spoke. “They could have met for drinks or dinner, but Sam decided she wasn’t his type.”
“Not a very good reason to kill her,” Destiny said. She suddenly looked annoyed.
“What is it?” Jamie asked.
“Oh, it’s just Ronnie being a pain in the ass as usual. Like I told you, he doesn’t like the fact that I might actually meet a man and find him attractive. It’s like I’m supposed to be content hanging out with spooks all the time. This Sam Hunter sounds like a real catch to me.”
“If he’s not a killer,” Max reminded.
Destiny nodded. “Yes, well, a woman has to draw the line somewhere.”
“We have to work out a plan so that I’ll be available at all times for each of you,” Max said. “The rules remain the same. You each carry cell phones, and you avoid being alone with these men at all costs.” He looked at J
amie. “Understood?”
She nodded.
Max checked his wristwatch. “Jamie, I’m going to need the keys to your car. I’m going to pull it out of the garage and make a few adjustments under the hood so you’ll have a reason to call the mechanic.”
“I’m confused,” Destiny said. “Why can’t Jamie just call him, like I did the dentist?”
“This guy didn’t list his telephone number in the ad,” Max said, “so my, um, assistant had to find him through other sources.”
“John Price didn’t list his phone number in his ad,” Jamie pointed out.
“We’re going to use a different angle. You’ll tell him you own the newspaper and that you were intrigued by his ad.”
“Is that what you told Larry Johnson?” Destiny asked.
“No. He thought we were looking for a car.”
Jamie went for her car keys while Destiny called the chef and made a date for later that day. When Jamie returned, she called the mechanic, who promised to be there in an hour, mentioning there would be an extra fee for coming out on his day off.
Jamie then called John Price, explained she owned the Gazette and had gotten the information from his ad. At first he was cool toward her, but he finally agreed to meet for coffee later in the day. “I don’t think Mr. Price appreciated me contacting him the way I did,” she said after she hung up. “Perhaps I should have written him via our post office box.”
“That would have taken too long,” Max said. “What other impressions did you get?”
“He sounded very cautious. I have a funny feeling he’s hiding something.”
BY THE TIME JAMIE WALKED INTO THE DOWNTOWN Café for her meeting with John Price, the mechanic, a good old boy by the name of Carl Edwards, had made the necessary repairs to her car and had asked her out. She’d taken his phone number and promised to get back to him. “Edwards might be a flirt,” she’d told Max once the man left, “but he didn’t come off as a murderer.”
Max had shrugged. “Since when do murderers wear signs?”
John Price was in his mid to late fifties, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in neat slacks and a golf shirt. He looked embarrassed when Jamie approached the table.
“I was afraid of this,” he said, standing until she was seated.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I thought you sounded a little young on the telephone. I probably should have asked your age.”
“Is age an issue with you?”
“It is when the woman you’re meeting for coffee is the same age as your daughter.”
“I doubt that,” Jamie said. “I’m thirty years old, not exactly a kid.”
The waitress appeared and took their order for pie and coffee. “So, you own the local newspaper,” Price said.
“Yes. It has been in my family for years.”
“I’m sorry if I sounded rude to you on the telephone, but I was very surprised to get your call since I hadn’t listed my number in the newspaper.”
“I took it off the information you sent with your ad,” Jamie said. “I didn’t mean to infringe on your privacy,” she added, “but I was intrigued. Your ad said you were open to new experiences. What exactly does that mean?”
He chuckled. “My doctor has accused me of showing signs of a midlife crisis,” he said. “First thing I did when I turned fifty was buy a brand-new Harley and start dating younger women. My second wife was fifteen years my junior. Bad move on my part; we’ve since parted ways.” He quickly changed the subject. “Now, I’m thinking of taking flying lessons.”
Jamie noticed he had an easy smile. “Sounds interesting,” she said.
The waitress appeared with their order.
They talked for an hour. Finally, John picked up the check. “Jamie, I had a delightful time, but I suggest you try meeting someone your own age. With your looks, you shouldn’t have any trouble.”
She glanced up in surprise. “Am I being rejected?”
He laughed. “No, but I would feel silly dating a woman twenty-five years younger than me. Please don’t take it personally.”
They said goodbye with a handshake. Max waited just down the street at Maynard’s Sandwich Shop. “Mr. Price dumped me after the first date.”
Max shrugged. “That’s okay, you still have me.”
Jamie didn’t respond.
Destiny showed up later that afternoon. “The chef is about a hundred pounds overweight. Naturally, he’s looking for a long-term relationship. I think he’s already found one in food. I spent the rest of the day watching Larry Johnson. He didn’t leave his car lot. He was the only one working today. I’m not surprised, since it’s Sunday.”
The three sat around the table discussing their findings and brainstorming. Finally, Destiny left.
Max stood to leave a few minutes later. “I need to go back to my hotel and make some calls,” he said. “How about I pick you up around six?”
“Sounds good,” Jamie said. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Jamie walked him to the front door. He paused and looked down at her and for a moment she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he turned and headed for his car.
She sighed and leaned against the doorjamb. Now, why, when the timing had been perfect, hadn’t he kissed her? She looked at Fleas. “See what I mean? I never know where I stand with that man.”
Fleas responded by walking over to the refrigerator and glancing up at the freezer. “You’re right,” Jamie said. “When the going gets tough, the tough eat ice cream.”
MUFFIN WAS WAITING WHEN MAX CLIMBED INTO the car. “I’ve taken care of everything you requested for your date tonight,” she said. “Your plane will be here within the hour, and I made reservations at your favorite restaurant in New York City. Once you get off the plane, a limo will be waiting to take you there.”
“Thanks,” Max said. “You think Jamie will be impressed?”
“I think Jamie would be happy eating a barbecue sandwich at a local restaurant,” Muffin said, “but if this is the way you want to play it, go for it.”
Max was quiet. “You think I’m going overboard?”
“Hey, what do I know? She’ll either think you’re showing off or she’ll be flattered. And since when do you worry what a woman thinks?”
“This is different.”
“If I know Jamie, she’ll be touched by your efforts.”
“Were you able to get anything else on Sam Hunter?”
“I found nothing to indicate the man is not who he seems to be. No police record.” She paused. “I’m beginning to wonder if Luanne’s murder had something to do with her business. She had a lot of enemies.”
“Lamar Tevis is checking into it.”
“Which means we could be looking in the wrong place.”
“I hope you’re right, Muffin, but if you’re not there’s a good chance we’re going to have another murder on our hands before long.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
JAMIE WAS READY AND WAITING FOR MAX BY QUARter of six. She wore a simple black dress with spaghetti straps, matching heels, and carried a small purse. The see-through body suit beneath it, her purchase from Sinful Delights, was strapless and hugged her tightly. After her talk with Max she wondered why she was wearing it.
She was taking a big chance, and she knew it. She was risking a broken heart. Max Holt had made it plain he didn’t know what their future held; he had not promised her happily-ever-after. But he had a hold on her heart, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
“How do I look?” she asked Fleas, who was napping in front of a kid’s TV show since she did not allow him to watch anything with sex or violence. He didn’t budge, didn’t bat an eye. Jamie knew he was pouting because she was going out. It didn’t take a genius of a dog to realize she didn’t wear her best black dress every day.
And Fleas was no genius.
“Okay, be that way,” she said, “but I deserve a night out once in a while. I
t’s not like I don’t try to take you with me everywhere I go. Lord, you even go to work with me.”
Still Fleas made no movement.
“And I was going to give you another bowl of ice cream before I left. That’s two in one day for you, pal.”
Fleas suddenly raised his head. He might not be a genius, but he had learned to recognize the words ice cream and doughnuts.
“I knew that would get your attention,” she said.
He thumped his tail and pulled himself into a standing position. Jamie watched him make his way into the kitchen where he sat down in front of the refrigerator and waited.
The doorbell rang. Jamie had been so busy trying to get a response from her dog that she hadn’t heard Max pull up. Her stomach did a series of tiny flip-flops as she opened the door. Max stood on the other side looking like something off a magazine cover in a dove-gray suit and blue shirt and tie.
Several seconds passed before either of them said anything.
Finally, Max spoke. “Are you wearing anything under that dress?”
Of all the questions he might have asked, Jamie had not expected that one. “Um, not much.”
“You know, Swifty,” he said, stepping inside, “we could always stay in and order takeout.”
“You look pretty good yourself, Holt.”
“If we don’t leave soon—”
“I just need a couple of minutes,” she said. “I promised Fleas he could have ice cream.”
“Of course.”
Max followed her into the kitchen where Jamie dipped out a healthy serving of butter pecan ice cream into Fleas’s bowl. The dog never took his eyes off her. Finally, she set it down before him. “There now. He’s had his dinner, and I let him out, so he should be okay until I get back.” Jamie grabbed her purse, and they started for the door.
“Aren’t you going to turn off the TV?” Max asked.
“No, he likes having it on while I’m gone. It helps with his separation anxiety.” Max shook his head sadly as they stepped outside. He took the keys from her and locked her door while Jamie waited, then he walked her to his car. She was nervous. This seriously smacked of a date, and she and Max weren’t in the habit of dating. What did it mean? Was she reading more into it than she should? Max was right. She did too much thinking. Couldn’t she for once allow herself the luxury of enjoying herself without all the what-ifs? Just for once?
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