Full Speed

by Janet Evanovich

  * * * * *

  Max pulled up to the emergency entrance. "Stay put," he told Dave. "I'm going to get a wheelchair."

  "Just ask for a body bag," Dave said.

  Max ignored him and climbed from the car. He hurried inside.

  "Oh, damn," Dave muttered.

  "What is it now?" Muffin asked.

  "I hope they take me right in. I don't like being around sick people. All those germs."

  "You know what I don't understand?" Muffin said. "I don't understand why Max puts up with you. You're the biggest pain in the ass I've ever met. Now why don't you stop sniveling and cut us all a little slack?"

  Max and an orderly were back in a matter of minutes. Max opened the passenger door. "Dave, this is Carter. He's going to help you inside, and the doctor is going to take you right in."

  "Thank God. Where are you going?"

  "I need to call Jamie."

  Dave nodded and allowed them to help him into the wheelchair. "Don't worry about me, Max," he said, offering a tight smile. "I'll be all right. Just make sure Jamie's OK."

  Max arched one brow but climbed into his car. Muffin was waiting.

  "I've already tried Jamie twice," she said. "She's not answering her cell phone."

  "Dammit," Max said. "She probably forgot to turn it on again."

  "You probably scared the crap out of her when you called and told her to leave the cabin."

  "OK, try paging her at Wal-Mart." He chuckled. "If she doesn't answer, tell them to try the mens wear section. She might be looking for a new victim."

  "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

  Max waited.

  "She didn't respond to the page," Muffin said when she came back on. "They paged her twice. I told them it was an emergency, so they're still trying. I'm on hold."

  Max rubbed his hand across his forehead. "Answer the page, Jamie," he muttered under his breath.

  "Still nothing," Muffin said.

  He sighed. "Tell me this isn't happening."

  Max drove on. "Damned if it's not one thing after another." He waited. "Muffin?"

  "She's not in the store, Max."

  "Shit! Where would she be at this hour of the morning?"

  "Maybe she met her friend Michael. I know she likes talking to him."

  Max pondered it. "I can't believe she'd go off with him at this hour."

  "Maybe Jamie was afraid to be alone."

  He was silent for a moment. "What do you know about this guy? This Michael?"

  "They met at Wal-Mart, had breakfast a couple of times, and then went to dinner. I know he drives a Jaguar because Jamie said it was really nice."

  "Wonder where they went for breakfast?"

  "I don't know the name of it, but it's not far from Wal-Mart."

  "Shit." Max pulled from the hospital parking lot. He made good time for a truck that was on its last legs. He drove until he spotted the Wal-Mart store. At the light he took a right. He pulled into the first restaurant he saw. "Wish me luck," he told Muffin as he climbed from the truck.

  A blast of cold air hit him as he stepped inside the restaurant. The lights were blinding, and the place smelled of coffee and bacon grease. A tired-looking waitress handed him a menu.

  "Long night?" he asked her.

  "Yeah. I'm filling in for somebody. Not used to these late hours. You want coffee?"

  "Please."

  She returned a moment later with a steaming mug and set it before him. "What'll it be?"

  "This is fine."

  "You're either out late or up early," she said.

  "A little of both, I guess," Max told her. "Actually, I'm looking for somebody."

  "Yeah?"

  "I'll bet you could help me. I'll bet you know most of the customers who come in here."

  She shrugged. "I work the breakfast and lunch shift."

  "I'm curious about a guy named Michael. He drives a Jaguar. You know him?"

  "Depends on who's asking and why."

  Max raised his hand, exposing a $100 bill. "I think he's seeing my girlfriend. It's over between us, but I'd like to know. Pride and all that."

  "Pretty blonde?"

  "Yep."

  The waitress reached for the money. "Sorry, I don't get involved in Mr. Juliano's personal affairs." She walked away.

  Max sat there for a moment, his expression frozen in place. He stood slowly and made for the door. Muffin was waiting when he climbed inside the truck.

  "That was quick. What'd you find out?"

  Max opened his mouth to speak, but the words didn't come. He cleared his throat. "It's bad," he whispered.

  "Max? What is it?"

  "I know why Nick Santoni has been playing games with us. He wanted Jamie."

  "Max, what are you talking about?"

  "Nick Santoni has Jamie."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jamie opened her eyes and discovered she'd slept almost three hours. She bolted upright, blinked several times, tried to clear her head. She got up and walked into the adjoining bathroom. She almost didn't recognize the woman in the mirror. Fatigue had painted dark shadows beneath her eyes, and she looked pale.

  "If I live through this I'm going to have to start taking better care of myself," she muttered.

  She turned on the cold water and splashed it on her face, but when she reached for a towel, she found none. Her face dripping, she opened the drawer beside the sink. It contained unopened bottles of shampoos, lotions, soaps, and toothbrushes. For overnight guests, she thought. Odd that a man like Nick Santoni would think of something like that. No, it probably was the work of a housekeeper.

  Jamie opened the cabinet door and reached for a towel. Beneath the stack she saw a slender white telephone. She pulled it out, not at all surprised to find it there.

  Nick had known she would find it. He knew she would try to contact Max. Whether he knew she would have suspected as much she could only guess. The only thing Jamie knew for certain was that she had to protect Max at any cost.

  Any cost.

  The phone jack was easy to find. Jamie plugged in the telephone and dialed Max's cell number. He answered on the first ring.

  "It's me," she said.

  "Jesus Christ, Jamie, where are you?"

  Had Jamie not been listening for the soft click on her end, she would not have heard it. Nor did she miss the relief in Max's voice. "I can't give you that information, Max. I only have a second to talk."

  "Jamie, listen to me. Michael Juliano is Nick Santoni."

  "I know."

  "Is he there?"

  "Not at the moment. Max, I've decided to go away with Nick. He wants to make a fresh start."

  Silence. Finally, he spoke. "I see."

  "I knew you would."

  "Are you sure about this, Jamie? Do you know what you're getting into?"

  "Nick wants to make a fresh start."

  "So what the hell do you want from me?" Max's voice was terse.

  "I'm asking you to back off. Give Nick and me this chance."

  "You want me to just forget everything, walk away, and let you screw up your life? The man almost killed us. Dammit, Jamie, I thought you were smarter than this."

  "I'm not screwing up my life, and even if I were, it's none of your business."

  "What about us?"

  "There is no us, Max. How many times have I told you? Back off." Jamie hung up the telephone and returned it to Nick's hiding place. She was pretty certain Max was with the program; he was good at reading between the lines.

  Someone knocked at the door. She stood and crossed the room. She found one of Santoni's men holding a tray of food and a small pot of coffee.

  "Mr. Santoni thought you might want a snack."

  Jamie stepped back, and he carried the tray inside and placed it on a round table beside the chair. "Thank you," she said. "Is the fog lifting?"

  He did little more than look her way. "Mr. Santoni will be in shortly," was all he said before he closed the door behind him.
<
br />   Jamie ignored the small wedge of Brie and fruit and delicate finger sandwiches, instead reaching for the silver coffee server. The china was delicate—white, edged with gold. A linen napkin with Nick's initials covered a small basket of croissants with various jams and jellies.

  Fleas thumped his tail, an expectant look on his face.

  "OK, come here." Jamie fed him three finger sandwiches before she turned to her coffee. She barely had time to finish her cup before someone knocked. "Come in."

  Nick Santoni stepped in and closed the door behind him. Fleas walked closer to Jamie and propped his chin on her lap. Nick chuckled. "I'm glad you were able to rest." He glanced at the tray. "Did you eat or did you feed it to the dog?"

  "I could use a cigarette," Jamie said, ignoring his question.

  Nick pulled open the drawer in the bedside table and produced her brand of cigarettes, a gold lighter, and a crystal ashtray, which he set on the table. He opened the cigarette pack, offered her one, and lit it for her. Fleas's eyes followed his every move.

  "It's OK, boy," Nick said, although he didn't reach out and pet Fleas as he usually did.

  "You obviously planned for my visit," Jamie said, inhaling the smoke. It burned her lungs, and she realized she was going to have to either get used to smoking again or give it up altogether. Neither sounded particularly appealing at the moment.

  Nick sat on the edge of the bed. "Yes. And for longer than you think. At first all I could think of was getting even with Holt. Until I found out about you." He glanced at the pack of cigarettes. "I know you sometimes smoke when you're upset, although you gave it up some time ago."

  "You know a lot about me, Nick."

  "Yes."

  "Why did you check me out?"

  "I was curious. I figured you must be pretty special to capture Maximillian Holt's attention."

  "I'm hardly the first woman Max has taken a second look at."

  "True. But you've certainly managed to hold his interest, haven't you?"

  Jamie met his gaze, a question in her eyes. "You find me appealing because Max likes me?"

  He smiled. "Perhaps in the beginning. Now that I know you personally I can't help but like you."

  Jamie watched as he reached for the coffee server, refilled her cup, and added the amount of cream and sugar she liked. Then, with hands that appeared too large to grip the dainty handle, he offered it to her.

  She sipped as he watched.

  "I need to know your decision," he said quietly.

  She returned the cup to its saucer. "I'm coming with you."

  "Do I sense regret in your voice?"

  Jamie could feel his eyes boring into her. She raised her head and met his gaze. "Don't push it, Nick."

  He stood. "We leave at dawn. The fog should have lifted by then."

  * * * * *

  "What do you think?" Muffin asked Max.

  "I think Nick knows his eggs are fried, as Jamie would say."

  "Could you put that into words that a brilliant computer like me can understand?"

  "His time is up. He's planning to leave the country. He'll probably use the local airstrip to get out of Sweet Pea."

  "I just heard back from Jersey. Leo Santoni was one pissed mother when I woke him."

  "Not my problem. What'd he say?"

  "He'll cooperate."

  Max nodded. "I guess we're going to have to call in the big guns. Call Quantico and find out where Helms is. Tell him I'll need backup. He'll probably have to send someone local. Also, tell him if he wants Santoni, we play by my rules."

  "You're such a hard-ass."

  "Where Jamie's life is concerned you're damn right."

  * * * * *

  Rudy Marconi was waiting for Nick when the man stepped out of the bedroom.

  They didn't speak until they were inside Nick's office on the other side of the house.

  "We couldn't trace the call," Rudy said, "and Holt hasn't returned to the cabin. We've got the place surrounded, but there has been no sign of him."

  Nick began packing his briefcase. "I want him found, Rudy."

  "I've never let you down before."

  Nick regarded him. "Don't let this be the first. I won't rest until Holt is dead." He closed the briefcase. "Oh, that damn bloodhound has to go, too."

  * * * * *

  Two hours later Jamie followed Nick outside and into a waiting Hummer. The man called Rudy loaded Fleas and several pieces of luggage into the back.

  "Good thing I'm traveling light," Jamie muttered, noting her dog barely had room to move around.

  Nick chuckled. "You'll have plenty of time for shopping later."

  Rudy and a man named Victor whom Jamie had seen scouring the premises climbed into the front seat. Nick opened the door to the backseat so Jamie could get in. He slid in beside her. They pulled up to the gate, Rudy said a few words, and it slid open for them.

  "It'll take us about thirty minutes to reach the landing strip," Rudy said.

  "Sounds good." Nick put his hand on Jamie's lap. She didn't move it. Fleas propped his head on her shoulder as though offering support. He obviously sensed a problem; he hadn't left her side all night. "You OK, boy?"

  He nudged her chin in response.

  "Lie down," Jamie said, not wanting the dog to do anything that might annoy Nick. Fleas sank to the floor.

  "He seems agitated," Nick said, patting Jamie's knee. "I wonder if he misses the truck?"

  "I think it has more to do with the big guns your boys are carrying."

  Nick didn't reply.

  Jamie saw they were going down the mountain. They had almost reached the foothills when they came upon a number of cars stopped in front of them. Ahead they saw blue lights flashing.

  Nick frowned. "What's going on up there?" "Looks like some kind of accident," Rudy said.

  Victor opened his door. "I'll check it out." He climbed out and hurried down the road.

  "Where are we going?" Jamie asked.

  "To an airstrip."

  "And after that?"

  Nick smiled. "It's a surprise. You'll love it."

  Jamie thought of her newspaper and the little town in which she'd been born and raised. She wondered if she would ever see Vera again. "Will I be able to write to my friends?" she asked.

  "Darling, we will make new friends. You'll be so busy you won't have time to think of your old ones."

  "Really?" she said, trying not to sound sarcastic. "Well, you just saved me a shit load of money on Christmas cards and postage."

  Victor returned. "It's bad, Boss. Three cars involved, several people hurt. The cops are waiting for an ambulance."

  "Did they give any indication how long it would take?"

  "Said they were trying to hurry things along, but there's glass everywhere."

  Nick leaned his head against the seat. "Call the pilot and inform him we're going to be late."

  In the distance, Jamie could hear the wail of a siren. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes, but her thoughts never stilled. Her door was locked. She assumed there was a master lock by the driver's side, which meant she was not going to be able to unlock her door on her own. Nevertheless, as the siren grew louder, Jamie began to hope.

  The ambulance arrived, and the siren died. Victor opened his door and headed toward the scene once more. He returned a few minutes later. "They're loading people into the ambulance now. Shouldn't take much longer."

  Jamie's heart pounded loudly in her chest as the sirens whined out once more. The ambulance was obviously rushing its victims to the hospital. The car inched its way closer to the scene. When they were less than 100 feet away, Jamie sighed expansively.

  "Are you OK?" Nick asked as though sensing a shift in her mood.

  "I'm wondering if we're going to sit here forever, that's all."

  Nick smiled. "You're an impatient woman."

  "Would somebody turn on the radio?"

  Rudy glanced over his shoulder at Nick, who nodded his OK.

  "Se
e if you can find a good country-western station," Jamie said.

  Nick looked surprised. "I would never have suspected you liked that kind of music."

  "Yes sir," Jamie said. "I like it fast and loud."

  Nick chuckled as a Patsy Cline song came on. Fleas stood in the back and let out a growl.

  "Turn it up," Jamie said.

  Rudy shrugged and turned it up.

  Fleas began to bark.

  Nick turned. "What's wrong with him?"

  "Maybe he has to go to the bathroom," Jamie said.

  "Bad timing, boy," Nick replied.

  Fleas became more agitated. He tried to climb over the seat toward Jamie.

  "Down, boy!" Nick shouted. The dog snapped at him. "What the hell?"

  "He's nervous," Jamie said. "The music will calm him down. Turn it louder."

  Rudy did as he was told, and the car was suddenly flooded with loud music.

  Fleas snarled and bit Nick. Suddenly the dog was all over him. "Let me out of the damn car!" Nick shouted.

  Rudy instantly hit the automatic lock. Jamie opened her door, whistled for Fleas, and ran as fast as she could toward the sheriff's cars. She heard Nick shout her name, but she kept running.

  One of the deputies looked up and frowned at the sight of her. His name tag read: Higgins. "What's wrong, miss?"

  "Listen to me!" Jamie cried. "My name is Jane, and I'm wanted by the police for killing Harlan Rawlins."

  He frowned. "What?"

  "I'm Jane!" Jamie cried. "You've seen me on the news. I killed Harlan Rawlins. I'm pretty sure there's a reward for my capture. Something like one hundred grand."

  The deputy frowned. "I haven't heard of any reward. Lady, are you crazy?"

  Jamie was only vaguely aware that Nick had walked up beside her. He suddenly, and without warning, burst into laughter. "Honey, that is not funny."

  The deputy looked surprised to see Nick. He glanced around, then stepped closer. "I didn't see your car back there, Mr., um, Juliano," he whispered. "Is everything OK?"

  "Fine, Bill. I'm afraid my girlfriend has had too much to drink. How much longer are we going to have to wait? We have a plane to catch."

  "I'll clear the way immediately."

  Jamie gaped at the man.

  "Your hand is bleeding, Nick," Rudy said once Nick and Jamie were inside the car.