Full Tilt (7 page)

"I'll bet you know everything that goes on in this place."

She hesitated, some of the light left her eyes. "Yeah."

"How hard would it be to get me a copy of the city budget and audits? Say the last three years?"

"It's public knowledge, but it'll take time for me to print it out."

"You do that for me, and I'll take you to lunch at the best place in town."

"That's not good enough," she said.

Max leaned on the counter that separated the lobby from the offices. "Playing hardball, huh? Okay, name your price."

"I want an autograph for my ten-year-old son. He gets off on that sort of thing."

"You got it." He grinned. "I'll bet you're a tough mom, huh?"

"Damn right. I've been saving since he was born to get him into a good college. This kid is going places."

"With you as his mother I don't doubt it for one minute."

She looked proud. "Now, how about I fix you a cup of coffee and start printing that budget for you?"

* * * * *

Jamie caught up with Max at the end of the day when she pulled into Frankie and Deedee's long drive. Max was in his car, talking to Muffin and taking notes.

"Find out anything?" Jamie asked, sliding in on the other side.

"Muffin is checking on something for me. I had a nice visit with Alexa Sanders today."

"Oh, yeah? She's divorced, you know."

"She told me all about it. Good thing she got rid of the jerk. Lovely woman. And obviously way overqualified for her job."

"I would think she's a little different from the women you prefer."

"I think all women are beautiful, Jamie."

"So I've heard. But you wouldn't go out with someone like Alexa Sanders."

"As a matter of fact, I took her to lunch and had a great time."

Jamie couldn't hide her surprise. "No kidding?"

"The auditor is so old he should have retired when Elvis was still popular. Alexa claims he gets confused easily, which means she has to go over his work carefully, which means

Swamp Dog swaggered off as though he hadn't a care in the world.

"Jesus Christ," Duncan said.

Max sighed heavily. "Frankie, please take Jamie inside."

The big man looked toward the cars. "Yeah, sure." He started off.

"Who is he?" Max asked Duncan.

"Vito Puccini." He rolled the dead man on his side and pulled a wallet from his back pocket. He flipped it open and handed it to Max. "One of the guys I just hired."

Max glanced through the man's identification. "You say he checked out?"

"Clean as a whistle. Came with a letter of recommendation from his last employer, some hotshot preacher who travels with bodyguards."

Max looked up sharply. "Harlan Rawlins?"

"Sounds familiar," Duncan said, "but I'd have to check my files. I've got a lot of men on this job."

"I want to see everything you have on Puccini."

"No problem. Oh, there was another guy traveling with him. Lenny Black. They both worked for this minister."

"Where is Lenny Black now?"

"I posted him at the front gate. Naturally I plan to question him."

"Please find him immediately. And round up the other new men, as well. I'll meet you at the back of the house in five minutes. And call nine-one-one."

Max hurried into the house where he found Snakeman guarding the front door. "The boys and I have been watching the doors all day," he whispered. "We're armed."

"Does Deedee know?"

He shook his head. "Frankie wants us to keep it under wraps as far as she's concerned. Probably not a bad idea considering she's, uh, hormonally challenged."

Max nodded and headed for the living room where everyone had gathered, including the staff and two of the security guards. "Everything's okay," he said. "Duncan is calling the police."

"Is he really dead?" Deedee asked, shuddering. Frankie stood next to her.

"Yeah."

"I understand he took a shot at you and Jamie," she went on.

Max nodded and looked at Jamie. She was comforting Beenie who was not taking it so well. He mopped tears with a jewel-accented handkerchief while Choker looked on in disgust.

"Who was he?" Jamie asked.

"Vito Puccini. Anybody recognize the name?"

Big John perked. "Heavyset guy?"

"Yeah."

"I spoke with a man named Vito earlier. He and another guard were having lunch together when I went out to get something from my car. Said he was a big wrestling fan. Had a Jersey accent."

"What did the other guy look like?"

"Tall and skinny. Longish hair. Brown, I think. He had it tied back. He didn't have much to say, but this Vito was pretty talkative."

Deedee's voice trembled. "You think these guys are the ones who have been after us?"

Max hesitated. "We're looking into it. I seriously doubt the other man is still on the property."

"I don't like it," Frankie's campaign manager said. "This has gone too far. I'm thinking we should definitely pull out."

Frankie looked at him. "I thought we agreed not to."

"There's a guy out there with his throat cut. Who's to say one of us won't be next?"

"Are you throwing in the towel?" Deedee asked.

"After I've already decided I will make a great mayor's wife?"

The man's shoulders sagged. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"Well, I'm not quitting," she told Frankie, matter-of-factly. "After being stuck in this house for so long I realize I need to get out and do something. I'm not about to let that hoity-toity Annabelle Standish get all the credit. Besides, Beenie reminded me I would be expected to ride in all the parades with Frankie." She looked at her husband. "I'll need new clothes, of course."

Frankie took Deedee's hand. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

Max, Frankie, and Big John met with Duncan and four other men, none of whom matched Big John's description. "Lenny Black is missing," Duncan said. "We're searching the grounds now. You want me to add another man inside the house?"

Big John spoke. "Don't bother. Me and the boys will kill the person who tries to get by us."

As soon as they were alone, Frankie pulled Max aside. "This Swamp Dog person. He saved your and Jamie's life, right?"

"Looks that way."

"I want him close by at all times."

"Frankie, I have to level with you. Right now I don't trust anyone."

Max knocked softly on Jamie's bedroom door a few minutes later. She opened the door, a portable phone to her ear. She motioned him in.

After a moment, she hung up. "I wanted to check messages at my office. Seems like Mike and Vera have everything under control."

"You sound disappointed."

She gave a self-effacing smile. "Well, naturally I'd like to think they can't run the newspaper without me."

Max glanced around the bedroom. "It smells like you in here."

"I don't wear perfume."

"You've got your own scent. I've spent enough time closed up in the car with you to know."

Jamie had memorized his scent as well. She was certain she could pick him out of a crowd with her eyes closed.

"Jamie, I need to talk seriously with you for a moment." He sat on the edge of the bed. She joined him, eyes curious. "It may not be safe for you to stay here anymore," he said.

"You think I should go home?"

"No, I don't want you to be alone right now, and I know you don't want to stay with the Standishes. Is there anyplace else you could go for a few days?"

"I have a couple of girlfriends, but I would be afraid I'd be putting them in danger."

"I don't think you're the target here. In fact, I'm sure of it."

"Then who?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. It could be Frankie or me or both, but anyone around us could become a casualty. I'd like to get Deedee out of here, as well. Maybe the two of you could visit that spa she mentioned."

Jamie rolled her eyes. "Get real, Holt. Do I look the spa type to you?"

He grinned. "No, you're definitely not the type."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When I think of you I think of lazy Sunday mornings and rainy afternoons. You don't want to hear the rest."

"Go ahead," she said, intrigued.

"Promise you won't punch me in the jaw?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

He studied her for a moment. "I visualize you with mussed hair and long T-shirts, wearing absolutely nothing beneath them."

She arched one brow. "Actually, that's exactly what I sleep in."

He groaned.

"Lately, though, I've been wearing all this frilly stuff of Deedee's. I don't think I'm the frilly type."

They sat in silence for a moment, simply looking at one another. Jamie wondered what it was about the man that drew her to him, even when he was at his most irritating. She knew exactly why women flocked to him. Max Holt was larger than life. He'd traveled all over the world numerous times, and he rubbed elbows with people she'd only read about.

He was the one people came to when they were in trouble. He could be counted on.

"What are you thinking?" Max asked.

"I was thinking how different we are."

"You and I have more in common than you think, Jamie."

"Oh, yeah? I'll bet you've never shopped at an outlet or secondhand store. You've never eaten canned soup for a week because you were low on grocery money."

"You're right, I haven't. But if the need arose I could. I easily adapt to situations." He paused. "It has always been easier for me to pay someone to shop for clothes and food and whatever else because it frees me up to do what I think is important. I like to think I've made contributions to this world."

Jamie suddenly felt foolish. Max Holt
had
contributed to the world. One only had to pick up a newspaper to learn how his technological know-how and financial support had made life easier both in the States and in third-world countries. He might have an ego the size of Mother Earth, but he was a generous man.

"I'm not criticizing you, Max," she said. "I'm just pointing out our differences. It would explain why we have so many, uh, disagreements."

One corner of his mouth lifted. "I can think of other reasons, but you don't want to hear them."

She knew the direction he was traveling and changed the subject. "I don't want to leave," she said. "Deedee would be crazed with worry over Frankie if we left under these circumstances."

"And you? Would you worry about me?"

"Of course I would. I'd be worried sick about everybody." She noted a flicker of disappointment in his dark eyes. It wasn't the answer he'd been looking for.

Max stood. "If you change your mind

Jamie sat on one side of Deedee, Frankie on the other, as they waited in the visitor's lounge of the ER for word on Beenie. Deedee had cried on and off since the ambulance had awakened her to more bad news.

"I'm so scared, Frankie," she said. "I can't lose Beenie. He's like a sister to me."

Max almost smiled in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "He's got a lot going for him, honey. He's young and healthy. That helps."

"We'll find the person responsible for this," Lamar said, having arrived at the hospital only minutes after Beenie had been taken into the emergency room.

Deedee turned to him. "You haven't done anything useful so far," she snapped. "My husband is the one who has hired all the security. What the hell are you people doing? Do I have to arm myself in order to be safe in my own house?"

"We're following leads, Mrs. Fontana. I have extra men working the case."

The metal doors leading inside the emergency room suddenly opened, and a young doctor came through. Everyone stood, waiting for the worst.

"I'm Dr. Cox," he said.

"Is Beenie dead?" Deedee blurted.

The doctor looked surprised. "No, ma'am. He's going to be fine. He has a moderate concussion, but we found no signs of swelling around the brain. His injuries are superficial; he looks worse off than he really is."

"Oh, thank God," Deedee said.

"I'll have to warn you, though, he's got one heck of a headache, but I don't want to give him any pain pills because he needs to stay awake for the next twelve hours."

"Oh, Jeez," Frankie said. "Can you give
us
anything to take?"

Cox smiled. "I'm going to release him, along with a treatment plan, but you have to understand he's confused and disoriented right now." The doctor smiled. "Don't worry. He's on the mend. He's flirting with all my nurses. In fact, I think he has a date with one of them tomorrow night."

"With a nurse?" Deedee asked. "A
female
nurse?"

Dr. Cox chuckled. "We
do
have some pretty nurses here." If he noticed the group was staring at him in disbelief, he didn't say anything. "He should be ready to go in an hour."

* * * * *

"What I need right now is a rare steak and eggs," Beenie announced once he was settled inside the limo, flanked by Deedee and Frankie. Jamie and Max sat across from them.

Deedee blinked. "You don't eat red meat, Beenie. And why are you talking in that John Wayne voice?"

He looked at her curiously. "Why do you keep calling me Beenie? Sounds kinda fruity if you ask me."

Max studied him closely. "Have you forgotten your name?"

He paused. "Please tell me it's not Beenie."

"It's just a nickname," Deedee said. "Do you know who
we
are?"

He looked at her. "No, but I like the car, and the fact I'm sharing it with two drop-dead gorgeous women." He looked from Max to Frankie. "No offense intended."

"He has amnesia," Max said.

Beenie looked startled. "I do?"

"Maybe we should take him back to the hospital," Deedee said.

"No way am I going back there."

"I don't think he's in any physical danger," Max said. "His MRI looked good. Like the doctor said, he has no internal bleeding or swelling. The amnesia's probably temporary. There's not much they can do to treat it." He grinned. "I vote we just take our patient home. I suspect he'll be back to his old self again soon enough."