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Authors: Janet Evanovich

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BOOK: Full Tilt
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"Then work with me instead of against me."

He wiped his brow. "This is not a good time for us to talk," he said. "I haven't slept all night, and for all I knew you were dead. I need time to calm down, I guess. I'll call you later." He climbed into his Mercedes and pulled away.

Jamie watched the car disappear around the bend. When she looked up she found Max standing there. "Looks like you need a ride," he said.

They climbed into Max's car after agreeing to meet the others back at the house.

"Good morning, Muffin," Max said as soon as the bars had closed over them. "Did you miss me?"

"It's about time you got back," she said in a terse voice. "I was so worried I almost rebooted my system. Did you meet Swamp Dog?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking of fixing you up with him."

"I'm not in the mood for your jokes, Max. Besides, I'm involved with a laptop at MIT, but every time we get into a really good chat you beep me, and I have to brush him off. Which proves I'm not supposed to have any sort of personal life. Your staff is worried about you. They think I'm not doing my job. That doesn't look good for me."

"Tell them I'm okay, and there's nothing to worry about."

"I'm doing so as we speak. I have to tell you, Max, there's too much stress in this job. I should give my notice. I want to work for someone who lives a normal life."

"Nobody is normal, Muffin. Besides, you'd get bored. What do you have for me?"

"So it's business as usual," she said.

"Okay, I'm sorry I caused you to worry."

She sighed. "From now on I'm keeping my personal feelings to myself. I don't care if you want to roller-skate naked down Mount Everest, you got that? Just don't tell me about it ahead of time."

"The information, Muffin."

"Does the name Harlan Rawlins mean anything to you?"

"Sounds familiar."

"He's a big-time tent revivalist from Tennessee."

"I don't attend many tent revivals, but now that I think of it, I've read about him."

"Harlan was one of several who put in a bid for your television network."

"My broker handled the sale."

"Harlan has a huge following, and from what I gather he's a fanatic. Crazy, too."

"Aren't most fanatics?"

"Anyway, seems he wasn't happy that you chose to sell the network to someone else. He was counting on using it for his ministry so he could spread the good word."

"He has that kind of money?"

"Like I said, he put in a bid, but your broker sold it to an educational company instead so Rawlins lost out. I hear some of his followers are big on grudges."

"Just how big
is
this ministry?"

"We're talking hundreds of thousands of people. He comes off as this small-town minister who's barely making ends meet. He uses fear tactics on his congregation. You know, fire and brimstone and all that. He's got a radio spot three days a week, including Sunday. I listened to one of his so-called sermons yesterday. It would give children nightmares."

"Other than that, why is he scary?"

"He's got friends in bad places."

"How bad?"

"Mob connections. And that means professional hit men."

Max was thoughtful. "If that's the case it would explain the type of weapon used at the
Gazette,
but it doesn't explain Frankie's threats."

"These guys could be playing mind games. There's another possibility. Maybe they're using Frankie's political aspirations to throw off suspicion."

Max and Jamie exchanged looks. "Have you found anything out about the missing tax funds?"

"Max, the people who run this town are shady. It's a good-old-boy system, as we suspected. Before city council approves a contract for a new building or park, they set requirements so that only one or two people can possibly meet their standards."

"You're saying it doesn't matter if a bid is overpriced because they're going to give the job to someone in the loop."

"Precisely."

"Have you been able to find out who's on the take?"

"I've checked bank accounts. Everything looks normal. I don't know where the money is going, but it's going somewhere."

"Out of the country probably."

"Deedee mentioned there are three wrestlers staying with them," Muffin said. "How well do you know them and what are they doing there?"

"I've known them since I was a kid. I think they are mostly there for emotional support, but I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to offer their own brand of security."

"We have to consider every possibility," Muffin said.

"Listen, I need a favor

Chapter Eleven

Phillip waited until Max and Jamie were seated before he took his place behind his desk and looked over at Jamie. "You probably think I haven't taken these threats seriously, but I have. I just didn't want to let on and alarm you. I've been riding Lamar hard and heavy every day since someone put bullets through your window, but he seems more concerned about rescheduling his fishing trip. I offered to hire one of the best private investigators in the country, but Lamar was clearly insulted."

"You didn't tell me."

"Like I said, I didn't want to frighten you. I'm at my wit's end, here. We can't afford to offend Lamar; we need his full cooperation. At the same time we can't afford to just sit back and wait for this person to strike again."

"Do you think Lamar is trying to cover for someone?" Max asked.

Phillip shook his head. "He's not the type to take bribes. He's as honest as the day is long."

"How about his deputies?"

Phillip shrugged. "They seem like a loyal bunch, but I don't know them personally." His gaze shifted to Jamie. "I think I should hire the investigator anyway and not tell Lamar."

"Not a good idea," she said. "You can't sneeze in this town without somebody hearing about it. Lamar would find out, and that would make things worse." She looked at Max. "Lamar can be prideful and stubborn."

"I can't just sit here and do nothing," Phillip said, raising his voice.

"You could help us," Max said.

This time Phillip looked surprised. "Name it."

"I'd like to talk to the city auditor. Go over the books."

"That would be Benson Grimby," Phillip said. "He's on vacation. But I may be able to fix you up with his assistant." He thumbed through his Rolodex, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. "Alexa, this is Phillip. I need a big favor." He explained the situation. "You can go over there now," he told Max as soon as he hung up. He looked at Jamie. "Are you free for breakfast or do you plan to go over, as well?"

Jamie looked at Max.

"I'll be fine," Max said, getting up. "I'm sure you'd rather go to breakfast with your fiance than sift through a bunch of old documents."

Jamie didn't argue. She and Max had reached an understanding after what had happened the night before. Or maybe Max was planning to do some snooping around on Phillip as well, and didn't want her to know.

She smiled at Phillip. "Would you drop me off at my house afterward so I can pick up my car?"

"Certainly."

"Then I'm all yours."

Max nodded and left.

Ten minutes later, Jamie and Phillip selected a booth at the Downtown Cafe. Jamie didn't eat breakfast as a rule, but she ordered a blueberry muffin and a cup of coffee and watched in awe as Phillip downed a stack of pancakes. "Good thing you work out every day," she said.

"I'd like to give you a workout," he responded, giving her a soulful look.

"Soon," she promised.

He met her gaze. "I had a reason for asking you to breakfast, Jamie. I want you to come away with me." She opened her mouth to speak, but he held his hand up. "Now, before you start arguing, let me finish. You need to get out of town for a while, that much is obvious. We could go ahead and get married and take a long honeymoon."

"Annabelle would be livid."

"She'll get over it. And start hounding us for a grandchild, of course. It's always going to be something."

Jamie hesitated. When Phillip had proposed, she'd thought she would finally have the life she'd craved for so many years. But what if Phillip
were
somehow involved in the missing tax dollars? Not that she really believed it; after all, he was a good man. But she wanted to know in her heart that he was completely innocent. "I just don't feel right going off and leaving my best friend," she said.

"Frankie will protect Deedee, and I'll protect you. After all, I'm going to be your husband."

"I have a newspaper to run."

"And you've got a managing editor to do it."

"Mike? That's a lot of responsibility."

"How will he ever learn if you're going to keep him tied to your apron strings?" He sat back in the booth. "We could tie up all our loose ends and be out of here by nightfall," Phillip said.

"What about your clients?"

"My secretary will just rearrange my schedule. I don't make a habit of canceling appointments. I don't think any of my clients will fire me for getting married and going on a honeymoon."

Jamie shifted in her seat. "This is not a good time, Phillip. I've got security guards in my building because of the shooting. What would my staff think if I just hightailed it out of town without so much as a farewell?"

"They'd think you were in love and couldn't wait to be my wife."

"And I have to think of Deedee. She has always been there for me, Phillip. She's not handling this thing well. I'm afraid she's going to end up leaving Frankie."

"Jamie, would you listen to yourself?" he said. "What does any of this have to do with us getting married?"

She could only look back at him in silence.

"I'm beginning to feel like you don't want to marry me at all." He paused and studied her. "Is it Max Holt? Are you in love with him?"

"Of course not. I barely know the man."

"But you're with him a lot."

"You know he's my partner."

"You don't have to spend twenty-four hours a day with him. Don't you realize how that must look to other people? It's probably all over town by now that you spent the night with him out in the swamps."

Suddenly, Jamie understood. "Annabelle has been talking to you, hasn't she?" That explained Annabelle's rude behavior toward Max that afternoon.

"My mother is concerned, yes. She doesn't want you to be hurt by all the gossip."

"Are you concerned about it?"

"I've never paid attention to gossip and you know it. But when people start bad-mouthing the woman I'm going to marry I naturally become upset."

"I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you, Phillip. I'm sure this isn't the first time you've had to defend me to your mother."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Meaning she thinks you're marrying beneath yourself." Jamie felt ashamed the minute she said it. Annabelle had always treated her like one of the family.

Phillip glanced down at his coffee cup. "It's no secret my mother can be a bit of a snob at times, but she has always defended you."

"Defended
me?" Jamie asked in surprise.

"Perhaps 'defend' is the wrong word." He wiped his forehead. "Shit, I wish I hadn't said that. I don't even know what I'm saying."

Jamie's feelings were hurt, but she was good at hiding them. She knew people had speculated about her family for years, the fact her mother had run out on her, and her father was emotionally ill and unable to work the last few years of his life. Kids in school had called Jamie's mother all sorts of names, long before Jamie had understood what they meant. There would be those who would question Annabelle about her son's decision to marry someone who didn't come from a good family. And Annabelle, who could trace her blue blood back to the beginning of time, would feel compelled to make excuses for her future daughter-in-law.

"It's okay, Phillip," Jamie said softly. "I know I wouldn't have been your mother's first choice. I'm sorry if my past embarrasses her or you."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm proud to be engaged to you. My mother is ecstatic."

The waitress dropped their check on the table and walked away quietly, as if sensing she'd come at a bad moment. "I've explained the reasons I can't go away with you," Jamie said. "I was hoping you'd understand. Perhaps when this is all over."

"Then my hands are tied," he said. "You refuse to come to my place so I can look after you, and you won't go away with me. I don't know what else I can do." Phillip pulled out several bills and placed them on the check. "I have to go back to work now." He left her sitting there.

Jamie ordered another cup of coffee and pulled out a cigarette. She took a puff and sighed. Then, she stabbed it against the ashtray and left.

* * * * *

Max barely had time to glance at the stack of retirement magazines before the door opened to the auditor's assistant's office. Alexa Sanders stared at Max for a full minute before saying anything. She was a forty-something, plus-size woman in a black dress with a fuchsia scarf. Her dark hair curled under at the ends, barely touching her shoulder.

She swallowed. "I almost fell on the floor when Phillip called me and said you were on your way over. I've never met a celebrity. How can I help you, Mr. Holt?"

He stood. "Call me Max. And you are Alexa Sanders, the lady who runs city hall." He held up the magazine. "And much too young to be reading this."

She looked pleased. "I read
Cosmo.
But we have a few old geezers in the back who pore over this magazine like it holds the secret to life." She rolled her eyes. "My boss being one of them, I might add."

Max smiled. "That old, huh?"

"Not to mention senile. I spend most of my time going behind him and cleaning up his mess. I'm talking too much, aren't I? I'm nervous, that's all. Not used to being around famous people. I'll bet you know Donald Trump personally. And Ted Turner," she added. "I heard you once dated Sandra Bullock."

"You're too smart to believe the tabloids, Alexa." He glanced around. "How long have you worked here?"

"Since college, and I don't want to tell you how long that's been. I was hoping to make auditor one day, but old man Grimby is going to outlive my grandchildren."

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