Montana Fire (14 page)

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Authors: Vella Day

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Medical, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers

BOOK: Montana Fire
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With a cup of coffee in her system, along with a bowl of Frosted Flakes, Jamie trudged
to the window to wait for her ride. She should be elated she wouldn’t have to rely
on Max for transportation anymore, only she wasn’t. The relying on him part she could
do without, but not seeing him after today would be hard. She’d come to enjoy her
time with him. This past week had been rather special. Amber had paired up Jamie with
Max at the wedding for a reason. Now she could see why.

Admit it. I’m falling for him. Hard.

Max’s SUV pulled into her drive, and with her change of clothes in a tote bag, she
rushed out to meet him. Before she could pull open the passenger side door, Max opened
it for her.

“Thank you.”

Max’s jaw slightly hardened. “Have you heard any more from Becky?”

He was the last one to see her. “No. I’ll call her later today to see how she’s holding
up.”

“Good.” Max slid into his seat and pulled his car out of her drive. “I contacted Trent
this morning. He said he’d look at the surveillance tapes to see if he could get a
possible identification of the man following Becky. RHPD has good facial recognition
software in place.”

“Speaking of which, did RHPD ever come up with the names of the men who tried to break
into the clinic?”

He shook his head. “No. Those scum seemed to know where the cameras were located,
and kept their faces averted the whole time.”

“Damn. Did I mention my boss hired a guard to watch the clinic? I know Trent said
they’d have a cop drive by a few times, but I don’t think Yolanda thought that was
enough.”

“Excellent. Will this guard be there during all operating hours?”

That would take a few men. “No. The clinic is open thirteen hours a day. This man
will escort the workers from their car to work, and then he’ll return for another
four hours from five to nine.”

“I’m glad the workers will be safe.”

“Me, too.”

“I’m also glad that I’m your chauffeur. It means you’ll be extra safe.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are too good to me.”

He grinned, as he pulled up in front of the clinic. “Keep thinking that.”

“I’m looking forward to our date tonight.” Her pulse sped up.

“So am I. I’ll call the garage and text you if your car is ready.”


If
it’s ready? You don’t think it will be?”

He shrugged. “Old parts are hard to find.”

Damn. “I can call if you want. It is my car.”

“Jamie.” He gave her his sternest look.

She laughed. “That’s right. You’re a man. You like to do things like that.”

“You got that right.” He winked.

She’d never met a man who seemed to care so much about her needs. She liked it. “Bye.”

Jamie slipped out of the SUV and rushed inside for her shift. Yolanda was off today.
With Dr. McDermott still out, a new physician from LACE hospital was substituting.
Sasha had told her that when that happened, it was up to the nurses to basically run
the show. Unfortunately, Sasha also had the day off, making the clinic feel a bit
more frantic. Lucky for them, they had fewer patients than usual, and Jamie managed
to make it through the day without too much stress. She was even able to push aside
the incident with Becky, and almost succeeded in not fretting about her date with
Max.

At four, her cell dinged. It was a text from Max. Excitement filled her until she
read his message:
Sorry. Car’s not ready. Next Wednesday for sure.
I’ll pick you up at five.

“Something wrong?” Mr. Sanders asked. Her patient was sitting on the edge of the exam
table waiting for her to take his blood pressure.

She shook her head. “My car’s still in the shop for almost another week, but it’s
all good.” There was an upside. It meant more time with Max.

“I know how that can be. Had me an old Ford truck. I babied that thing for over two
hundred thousand miles, but at the end it was in the shop more than it was out.”

He sounded a lot like her dad. “I like the part about the car lasting.”

Close to five, Layla said she’d take the next few patients so Jamie could change for
her date. She’d tried on several outfits last night, and in the end, went with black
jeans, pumps, and a knit top. After her usual application of lipstick and blush, she
added a light layer of eye shadow and a smoky gray liner. A quick dab of concealer
under her eyes, and she was quite satisfied with the result. Instead of dragging her
change of clothes with her on their date, she left them in the break room. She had
more scrubs at home.

As Jamie headed toward the waiting room to meet Max, Layla stepped out of an exam
room, folder in hand. She looked up and her eyes widened. “Wow. Hot, girl. Max is
going to drool.”

“It’s not too much?” Jamie hadn’t been on a first date in years.

“No. You’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Not wanting to keep him waiting, Jamie stepped outside a minute before five.

The air had a bitterness to it, forcing her to tug her collar closed. Right on time,
Max arrived. She opened the door to the SUV before he could get out.

“You’re giving a guy a complex.”

She stilled. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t let me open the door for you anymore.” He sounded like he was flirting
more than acting offended. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part.

Jamie never considered he did it for himself, but rather to be nice to her. “It’s
cold,” she said.

“Just pushing your buttons, honey. Buckle up.”

Honey?
She liked it. They were actually on a real date and she couldn’t wait to get started.

Chapter Eleven

M
ax looked over and smiled. “I guess I should have asked. Is Italiano’s okay?”

“Perfect.”

With the car heat turned to high, Jamie was actually toasty by the time they arrived.
This time, she waited for him to open her door. Max held out his hand and, when she
placed her palm in his, the skin-to-skin touch sent a delicious sizzle up her arm.
From the glint in his eye, he just might have felt the attraction, too.

When they stepped inside Italiano’s, only about five tables were occupied. She’d eaten
there a few times, but only for lunch. The red checkered tablecloths and candles stuffed
in the Chianti bottles screamed the seventies, but the atmosphere was cozy. Without
waiting to be seated, as the sign prominently displayed on the stand requested, he
escorted her to a table near the window. Max didn’t seem to be a rule breaker, so
what was going on?

“You eat here often?” Zoey told her he did, but Jamie wasn’t sure if her friend had
been exaggerating.

“Almost every night.”

Really? He looked so fit. She thought she’d become a creature of habit by eating her
frozen dinners all the time. He was worse off by far.

“Do they save your table for you?”

“They do.”

Must be nice. Elissa, the waitress who’d served her a few times came over. “My, my.”
She grinned, acting like she’d uncovered a safe hidden behind a painting. “
Two
for dinner?” She raised her brows almost if she expected him to explain Jamie’s presence.

“Very good, Elissa,” Max shot back. “Two is the correct number.” The genuine twinkle
in his eye implied this banter was common between them.

Elissa laughed. “What can I get you
two
to drink?”

Jamie liked how she emphasized the word
two
. It meant she wasn’t offended. “Coffee for me.” She wanted to keep her wits about
her.

“Coffee for you, too?” Elissa asked him.

“As always.”

The last time Jaime had been to Italiano’s she’d ordered the homemade ravioli with
the tomato basil sauce. Because it had been so good, she opted for it again. Seconds
later, Elissa returned with their drinks.

“You ready to order?”

“Ladies first,” Max said.

That was new for her. Benny often ordered before her. “Number seven.” She pointed
to the menu item.

“Excellent choice.”

“I’ll have the lasagna,” Max said.

Elissa’s brows rose. “You’re in a good mood.” She smiled, made a note on her pad,
and scurried toward the kitchen.

Jamie leaned forward. “Do you normally order the same thing?”

“I always have some kind of chicken or fish, but I’m in the mood for a change tonight.”

Was it because of their date? She could only hope. “You don’t eat red meat?”

“I do, but when I’m at Italiano’s, I like how they prepare their non-red meat dishes
better. If I go to the Steerhouse, I’ll have steak.”

What an interesting man. As much as Jamie enjoyed learning about him, her mind was
buzzing with what she’d found out about Jonathan. Once she got that off her chest,
she could relax and focus on Max. “I, ah, did some research on what Jonathan said.”

Max’s brows rose. “Do tell.”

“Your explanation of his mentioning
monster truck
made total sense to me. Jonathan probably was referring to the upcoming event. I’m
thinking that perhaps when he was in the service, he went to a rally. When he heard
a show was coming to Rock Hard, he was thinking about it.”

“Sounds reasonable. Go on.”

Elissa brought over the wonderful smelling coffee, and Jamie took a sip, even though
it was piping hot. “I figured the number
forty-seven
didn’t mean anything in and of itself, so I moved on to
concut
.”

Max centered his mug in front of him, but he didn’t drink it. “And?”

“When I put that word in a search engine, nothing came up, but then I remembered what
you said.”

“Me?”

“That it might be an address. I went to the map function and typed in 47 Concut. A
couple of places showed up, but only one with a D in the state’s name.”

Max’s fingers tightened on the coffee mug. “D? You never mentioned a letter.”

His interest seemed to have peaked. “I forgot Jonathan had mumbled it at the end.
I didn’t think it meant anything at first. Guess what came up?”

Max shook his head. “I have no earthly idea. What?”

“It’s a street in Washington, D.C. When I went to the street view, I found it was
the FBI building.”

He whistled. “Really.” He studied her for a moment. “So what do you plan to do with
your information?”

“Go back and talk to Jonathan. Find out what’s really going on.” She picked up her
napkin and placed it on her lap. “From the moment I met Jonathan, I knew there was
something different about him. He was smart. Well spoken. I figured he had PTSD or
something, and that was why he was homeless. When I visited him in the hospital, he
looked quite different. I know they had to cut his beard and shave part of his head
because of the wound, but his skin tone was more olive and…and he was thinner.” She
sucked in a big breath. “Something’s going on. I actually thought he might be some
undercover FBI agent.”

Max pressed his lips together. “There is something going on.” He shook his head and
glanced to the ceiling, indecision crossing his face. Max reached out and clasped
her hand. “I’m sorry, Jamie. There are some things about him that you don’t know.
I want to tell you what those things are, but I’m in the middle of an ongoing investigation,
and that limits what I’m allowed to say. I’m going to ask you to trust me for the
next few days while I file the appropriate paperwork. Then I can tell you something.
In the meantime, can you not visit Jonathan or ask around about him?”

She stilled. “You think it could put me in danger?”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about. And it’s precisely why I need you to trust
me.”

She sank back in her seat. “Oh, shit. Do think those men who chased me, knew about
Jonathan? That they saw me stop and chat with him every day? They might think he told
me something.” Dread oozed through her.

“Did he?”

“No.” She glanced around to see if anyone was looking over at her. Her voice had escalated.
“I told you. We only talked about his bum leg, the weather, and knock-knock jokes.”

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