“Oh, crap,” Jamie said. “I completely forgot about them. They ran an ad with me a couple of weeks ago offering free phones for those who signed up. Muffin’s right, they just opened for business. As a matter of fact, they’ve got salesmen going door to door.”
“They obviously convinced Price to try their service because that’s who he’s using,” Muffin said. “But I’ve been saving the best for last. Price was in touch with Luanne Ritter only three days after his personal ad hit the newspaper. She must’ve written to him immediately, probably the same day his ad came out.”
“Bingo,” Max said. “What about Maxine Chambers?”
“No record of a call placed to her number, but he could have called from another phone. I haven’t found her name listed with any service provider in the area. As hard as it is to believe in this day and age, she must not have had a cell phone.”
“Anything else?”
“I followed up on the dentist, the chef, and the mechanic. The dentist and chef checked out fine, but the mechanic, Carl Edwards, had had a run-in with the police. Seems he and another guy got into a fist-fight outside a bar a couple of years ago. Nothing serious; just a couple of good old boys who had too much to drink and one of them accused the other of cheating in a pool game.”
“How come it didn’t show up on his record?” Max asked.
“I suspect the cops just talked to them and sent them on their way because neither of them was officially charged. I found the information by checking on calls made to the dispatcher in the last three years. They list complaints in the computer, even if there are no arrests made.”
“Good work, Muffin,” Max said. “From here on out I want you to make Price your top priority. Find out why he left Atlanta so soon after the murder in his neighborhood.”
“Will do.”
“By the way, did you happen to get anything else on Sam Hunter?”
“Nothing looks suspicious. No police record, not even a parking ticket. He kept the same job for ten years. His cell phone records indicate that he was somewhat of a ladies’ man, but all his ex-girlfriends are alive and well and working in New York City. Max?”
“Yeah?”
“After we figure out who committed these murders, I’m taking some time off. I don’t feel so good.”
“Muffin, you are not pregnant,” Max said. “You’re just having the symptoms because Dee Dee fed you the information.”
“Then why are my hormones acting up?”
Max sighed. “You don’t have hormones, you’re a computer.”
“Yeah, and you programmed me to have emotions. I do too have hormones. Just ask my friend at MIT. He’s accused me more than once of having PMS. Just this morning, as a matter of fact.”
“I thought the two of you broke up.”
“You know how it is, on again, off again. I can’t get him to make a commitment. I think I intimidate him, but what can I say? Besides, he’s just a laptop, and he’s not being fed information from experts around the clock like I am. He needs an upgrade; somebody needs to install more memory in him.”
“Let’s just try to concentrate on the case, okay?”
Muffin sounded testy when she spoke. “I’ve never once let my personal feelings get in the way of my work, but I do need a life.” With that she was gone.
Max looked thoughtful. “I’ll inform Lamar about Price, but I think it would be a good idea to drive by his house tonight and see if there’s any activity.”
“Only if you promise not to break in again,” Jamie said. “I don’t think my nerves can take it.”
“Deal,” Max said.
“Well, Destiny will be relieved that Sam looks clean,” Jamie said, changing the subject. “I think she has a crush on him.”
“Don’t get her hopes up,” Max said. “Until we find the murderer, everybody is a suspect.”
MAX AND JAMIE WORKED THROUGHOUT THE DAY, breaking only for lunch, which consisted of sandwiches at Maynard’s.
“Is it me or does Vera seem to be in a really good mood today?” Jamie asked as they left the sandwich shop and walked back to the office.
Max grinned. “Maybe she’s getting laid.”
“Max!”
“Well, you asked.”
THEY LEFT THE OFFICE AT SIX P.M., ONLY TO FIND that the night had not cooled.
“This has been the hottest summer I can remember,” Jamie said. “No wonder people are acting kooky in this town, Vera included. There’s definitely a change in her.” Jamie was almost certain the woman was wearing padded bras.
They arrived at Jamie’s house and found a note from Dee Dee saying she had made up with Frankie and gone home. “Well, that’s one less thing to worry about,” Jamie said.
“Frankie must’ve taken my suggestion and bought something nice for her,” Max said with a grin.
“I don’t think Dee Dee is as materialistic as you think, Max,” Jamie said. “She genuinely loves Frankie. Twenty years is a long time to stay married these days.”
“Not if two people work at it,” Max said. “Do you think you’d want to be with somebody that long or longer?”
Jamie couldn’t have been more surprised with his response. Had Max Holt just made a favorable comment about marriage and commitment? She felt like pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, and then realized he was waiting for her answer. “I wouldn’t get married unless I was prepared to do just that,” she said.
There was plenty of food in Jamie’s cabinets and refrigerator, thanks to Dee Dee. Once they’d eaten, Jamie took a shower and changed into shorts while Max made calls to Holt Industries. They waited until dark before getting into Max’s car. “We’re going by John Price’s house,” he told Muffin.
“Speaking of Price, I discovered a few more things you might find interesting,” Muffin said. “His divorce a year ago was less than amicable.”
“Most divorces aren’t real friendly,” Max said, although his had been, thanks to his generosity.
“Yeah, but listen to this. Price swore out a warrant shortly after the separation, claimed his ex was stalking him. The police checked into it but no charges were filed for lack of proof.”
Max looked thoughtful. “How soon can you get me a complete file on her?”
“I’m about to send it through the printer now. She has an apartment in Atlanta, but her employment history is spotty. She obviously quit work after she married Price because I can’t find anything after that.”
Max was thoughtful. “If Price thought she was stalking him, that might explain the guard dogs and the expensive security system.”
“I wonder if he’s afraid she’ll find him,” Jamie said. After a moment, she changed the subject. “We should probably check in with Destiny.” Max made the call. He was frowning when he hung up. “Larry Johnson is there with a woman.”
Jamie felt a chill race up her spine. “I hope she’s armed.”
“Sam Hunter is sitting at the bar. Destiny says they’ve really hit it off.”
“I wonder what Ronnie is making of Destiny’s crush on Sam,” Jamie said, if for no other reason than to lighten the mood. She could see that Max had a lot on his mind. “Maybe Ronnie will finally take the hint and be on his way. Toward the light,” she added with a smile.
They drove by John Price’s house twenty minutes later and found it dark. Max frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Jamie asked.
“Something doesn’t seem right here. I get the feeling we should be someplace else.”
JOHN PRICE ARRIVED AT VERA’S HOUSE AT PREcisely seven o’clock carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Oh, John, how thoughtful,” she said, as she put them into a vase with water. Vera had put the pot roast in a Crock-Pot that morning before leaving for work, then cut up new potatoes, carrots, and onions and placed them in the pot on high so they’d be ready in time. Although her house was kept neat, she’d dusted and vacuumed before freshening her makeup. It was obvious she’d wanted to make a good impre
ssion.
“May I offer you a glass of sweet tea?” she asked John.
“I would love something cold after coming in from that heat,” he told her, wiping his brow. “I took a shower before I left the house, but I was perspiring before I got to my car.”
“This has been the hottest summer we’ve had in years,” Vera said, “and the humidity doesn’t help. I dread seeing my power bill because I’ve used my air conditioner so much this season. Now, why don’t you take a seat on the sofa, and I’ll get us both something cold to drink. Dinner should be ready soon.”
“I’m in no hurry,” John said. “I’d much rather get to know you better.”
“I’m afraid my life would sound boring to you,” Vera said, returning with two tall glasses of iced tea with lemon. She took the chair opposite him. “I’ve lived in Beaumont all my life. Never traveled more than a couple of hundred miles away, and that was with my church friends. I’m sort of a homebody.”
“I used to do a lot of traveling with my job,” John said. “My ex-wife didn’t like my being gone so I tried to cut back as much as I could.”
“She obviously missed you while you were gone.”
John shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “She was somewhat, um, possessive. She liked being able to put her finger on me at all times.” He took a sip of tea. “I’m sorry; it’s rude of me to discuss her with you.”
“Oh, no, I don’t mind. How long were you married?”
“A year.”
Vera looked surprised. “That’s all?”
“The marriage was doomed from the beginning, but I fancied myself in love. She was quite a bit younger than me. Plus, it was a second marriage. I hadn’t been divorced all that long before I met her. I was married to my first wife for twenty-seven years. I regret that we drifted apart.” He sighed. “Anyway, I married Celia less than three months after I met her. I guess I was just lonely after the divorce and wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Do you have children?”
“Oh, yes, a beautiful daughter by my first wife. She studied business at college and graduated with honors, and then decided she wanted to go into nursing. She graduates in the fall.” He glanced around. “Your place is very cozy. You have a real eye for decorating.”
“Thank you. I study the latest magazines for ideas. Luckily, I sew,” she added proudly. “I was able to make the slipcovers for the sofa and I made all the draperies, as well. But you’re probably not interested in hearing all that.”
He smiled. “On the contrary,” he said. “You sew, you cook, you decorate, and you’re a devoted employee. I’m beginning to think there’s nothing you can’t do.”
Vera blushed. “Oh, I have my faults,” she said. “I’m a very impatient woman. I want things done right away because I don’t believe in wasting time. People at the office will tell you I can be quite demanding at times.”
Price nodded. “You’re obviously a hard worker.” He paused. “Vera, I’d like to continue to keep our friendship discreet for a while longer.”
She gave him a funny look. “Well, of course, if that’s the way you want it.”
“Maybe we could continue to meet privately for a while,” he said.
“I suppose so.” But Vera was frowning as she got up to check the vegetables. “Dinner is ready,” she called out. “I hope you’re hungry.”
BUSINESS WAS SLOW IN THE LOUNGE AT THE HOLIday Inn, which didn’t seem to bother Destiny at all since Sam Hunter was the only one at the bar.
Sam watched Destiny closely, as though trying to size her up. His eyes followed the way her short skirt lifted each time she reached high for the bottle of Johnny Walker Red which two men at a nearby table were drinking, to the way her oversized breasts bounced as she washed glasses. Finally, Destiny sashayed toward Sam, took one of his hands in hers, and turned it over so that she was looking at his palm. “I didn’t tell you I was a palmist, did I?” she asked.
He smiled, showing off his good looks. His thick brown hair had not begun to gray at the temples like that of a lot of men his age. “You failed to mention it,” he said.
“I’ll be happy to give you a reading,” she said. “No charge, of course.”
He chuckled. “Of course.”
“This is your lifeline,” she said, tracing one of the lines that ran across his open palm. “It shows that you’re going to live a long life.”
“That’s good to know.”
“And this line—” She paused and gave him a coy smile. “It says you’re going to meet a beautiful woman. You will quickly become smitten with her.”
Sam smiled and captured her hands in his. “I think I already have. What time do you get off?”
Destiny didn’t respond. If Sam noticed her staring across the room at the couple leaving, he didn’t say anything. “Would you excuse me,” she said. “I need to make a quick phone call.”
MAX’S CELL PHONE RANG, AND HE PICKED IT UP. Destiny spoke from the other end. “Damn,” he said. “How long ago?” He listened. “Okay, thanks.”
“What is it?” Jamie asked.
“Larry Johnson just left the Holiday Inn with a woman. I hope Lamar is doing his job.” He looked thoughtful. “Maybe we should drive over.”
“And do what?” Jamie asked. “We can’t exactly knock on his door.”
Max looked thoughtful. “If he took her to his place, I think she’s relatively safe. Johnson isn’t dumb enough to try anything at his apartment. My concern is he’ll take her home. That might put her in danger. We might be wasting our time, of course,” he added. “I think Johnson suspects he’s being watched. If that’s the case, he’s not going to take any chances.”
“Unless he gets drunk enough and lets down his guard,” Jamie said. “Then anything is possible.”
“VERA, THAT WAS THE BEST POT ROAST I’VE EVER had,” John said. “I can’t believe you never married, what with your looks and cooking skills.”
Vera waved off the remark. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Wait until you see what I’ve made for dessert.”
“Dessert? I’m already busting out of my pants from that meal.”
Vera got up and cleared their dishes away before cutting them each a slice of Key lime pie and filling two cups with coffee. She carried them to the table on a silver tray.
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble,” John said.
“It wasn’t any trouble. I love to cook.”
John waited until she sat down before he spoke. “Tell me something,” he said. “How come you never married?”
Vera shrugged. “I was in love once, but he wasn’t able to make a commitment.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Vera looked sad for a moment. “I wasted a lot of years hoping he’d change.” Finally, she shrugged. “But I had a job with the newspaper that I loved, and I was always busy with church activities so it wasn’t like I sat around moping about it.”
John shifted in his chair. He suddenly looked nervous. “You didn’t mention our date to anyone at the Gazette, did you?”
“Of course not.”
He looked relieved as he took a sip of his coffee. He watched her closely from over the rim of his cup. He didn’t make a move for his pie.
“Aren’t you going to eat your dessert?” Vera asked.
“Could you make it to go?”
“Oh, are you leaving so soon?”
“I’m afraid my day has caught up with me,” he said. “I was at the office before six, and what I need right now is a good night’s sleep. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Well, of course not. Actually, I was thinking of turning in early myself.”
John left a few minutes later after promising to call the next day. Vera locked up after him, and began cleaning the kitchen. The phone rang, and she answered.
There was no response.
“Is anyone there?” she said after a moment.
Finally, a click.
“Well, now, that was odd,” sh
e said to herself as she hung up.
She was in the process of preparing for bed when the telephone rang for the third time. She picked it up. Once again, no answer. “Listen, I can hear you breathing, what do you want?”
Nothing.
“I’m sick and tired of you calling this house. Don’t call me again, do you hear?” She slammed the phone down. “Probably a bunch of kids playing pranks,” she said.
“I HAVE MORE NEWS FOR YOU,” MUFFIN SAID AS Max and Jamie headed for Larry Johnson’s apartment. “It concerns John Price. Do either of you know a Barbara Fender?”
“That’s my new neighbor’s name,” Jamie said. “Why do you ask, Muffin?”
“Bad news,” Muffin said. “Barbara Fender aka Celia Brown Price is John Price’s ex-wife.”
Max and Jamie exchanged looks. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Am I ever wrong?” Muffin asked.
Jamie stared at Max in disbelief. “She followed John from Atlanta.”
“I don’t like what I’m thinking,” Max said.
“Tell me anyway.”
“John Price filed charges that his ex was stalking him, but there was no proof so they were dropped. And later, he was questioned about a woman murdered two houses down from him. I’m willing to bet he was involved with her.” He sighed. “It never occurred to me that the killer could be a woman. What I don’t understand is why she’s doing it. Unless she’s insanely jealous,” he added.
Jamie felt the familiar sense of dread. “Or maybe she’s trying to set him up for a murder rap. She must really hate him. This is scary, Max.”
“We need to talk to Price right away.”
“Problem is, he isn’t home, and he could unknowingly be putting someone else at risk,” Jamie said. She had begun to fidget with her hands. “Assuming he isn’t the killer.”
“First we need to find out if Barbara Fender is home.” Max whipped his car around and headed back to Jamie’s house, making the drive in record time. Barbara Fender’s car was not in the carport.
“This isn’t good,” Jamie said.
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