Full Scoop

  “Next time would you try not to take so long?” Mel said, obviously not taking him seriously.

  “Okay, the grilled chicken sandwich, no mayo, no onions, with extra lettuce and tomato goes to the boring person at our table.” Zack passed it to Maggie. “The same person who ordered bottled water,” he added, handing it over as well. “You know, Mel, this is probably going to gross you out, but when I was a kid we drank water right out of the spigot on the side of the house. My mother wasn’t worried, though, because she caught me eating dirt when I was two years old, and that didn’t kill me.”

  Mel regarded him as she grabbed her foot-long hot dog, fries, and milk shake. “You are strange,” she said. “Mom, don’t you think Zack is strange?”

  “Very strange.”

  “Whoa, that’s pretty scary coming from a woman who chants over frogs and scatters grave dirt on sick guys,” Zack said. He unwrapped his double burger with all the fixings. “Nothing like a home-cooked meal,” he said, biting into his sandwich.

  “Zack, my man!” a male voice called out from across the room, drawing a questioning look, not only from Zack, but Maggie and Mel and the entire restaurant as well. He was dressed in a sparkly Elvis outfit. He waved and hurried over, followed by a group of Elvis clones, their capes flowing, rhinestones flashing.

  Mel looked at Zack. “Please tell me they aren’t coming to our table.”

  “I could, but that would make me a liar,” Zack said as the men approached.

  “You remember me, right?” the man said to Zack. “Lonnie Renfro. You gave me a ride.” He offered his hand.

  “How could I forget?” Zack said as they shook hands. “Good to see you again, Lonnie.”

  “You didn’t tell me you had a family, Zack.” Lonnie introduced himself to Maggie and then Mel, who had already slid so far down in the booth her chin almost touched the table. “Meet my new friends,” he said, calling out the names of the other Elvis impersonators.

  Maggie nodded politely. She saw the expression on Mel’s face change and followed the girl’s look as Travis Bradley and several friends stepped inside Harry’s. They paused and stared at the many Elvises.

  “Are you an Elvis fan?” Lonnie asked Maggie.

  “Absolutely.”

  Lonnie grinned at his friends. “Boys, what d’ya say we give Zack and his lovely family a little song? How about ‘Heartbreak Hotel’?”

  Maggie saw the panic in her daughter’s eyes, but there was no escaping the men, who’d formed a solid Elvis wall around the booth.

  Lonnie grabbed the salt shaker off their table and put it to his lips. “Well, since my ba-buh left . . .” he began loudly and the other men followed. People stopped talking. Heads turned.

  Maggie noted the grin on Zack’s face as she forced herself to nod and smile as well. The men were obviously encouraged by their reaction and began swiveling their hips.

  “You so owe me,” Mel said out of the side of her mouth.

  The customers at Harry’s Burgers applauded once the Elvis ensemble finished their song and moved to the counter to place their food order. Travis came over and gave them a big silver grin. “Guess where I’ve been?” he asked Mel, pointing to his new braces.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “The orthodontist?”

  “Uh-huh. Everybody calls me ‘Metal Mouth’ now.”

  “That happened to me too,” Mel said sympathetically. “They’ll stop after a while.”

  “Was your mouth sore in the beginning?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It’ll get better.”

  He grinned at Maggie and Zack.

  “They look great,” Maggie said, and introduced him to Zack.

  “I’m Mel’s favorite uncle,” Zack said. “I’ll bet she has told you all about me.”

  “I heard you were visiting,” Travis said. “My mom knows everything that goes on in this town.”

  “She talks a lot, huh?” Mel said.

  “She isn’t talking right now,” Travis said. “She woke up this morning with laryngitis.”

  “Laryngitis?” Maggie said. “Oh, no.”

  “Actually, my dad says it’s a day for celebration. He even upped my allowance.” Travis glanced back at his table. “Well, I’ll see you around.” He gave Mel a small wave.

  Mel gazed at him dreamily as he walked away.

  “Nice kid,” Zack said.

  Mel turned to Maggie. “I’ll bet Aunt Queenie gave Mrs. Bradley laryngitis. Right after she put a hex on Mike Henderson.”

  “It’s just a coincidence,” Maggie said.

  “Too bad she didn’t lose her voice before she blabbed stuff about you and Carl Lee Stanton all over town. Caitlin said everybody is talking about it. People don’t think the cops will catch him before he gets here. They think he’s more interested in hurting you than getting his money.”

  “I seriously doubt it,” Maggie said.

  “He looks mean. I saw his picture on CNN last night. Paula Zahn was interviewing the warden from the prison in Texas.”

  “What was Paula wearing?” Zack asked.

  Maggie and Mel just looked at him.

  “You can tell me later,” he said.

  “Since when do you watch CNN?” Maggie asked, annoyed with herself for not remembering her daughter had a TV in her room and access to the news. No wonder she had spouted off in the van.

  “I think I should know what he looks like,” the girl said. “They showed a picture of the ATM driver he shot, and that FBI agent he killed. And he just dumped his friend’s body in the woods on the side of the road. That is so sick. Now I’m glad Grandpa bought me that softball stuff last year. I’m going to keep the bat by my bed just in case.”

  “You play softball?” Zack asked as though trying to change the subject.

  “In gym class,” Mel said. “I wasn’t very good at it and nobody wanted me on their team. My grandpa bought all this equipment so we could practice, but he is so impatient. I quit when he got annoyed and said I swung the bat like a girl.”

  Maggie was only vaguely aware of the conversation between the two. She was fuming mad at Carl Lee Stanton for making her daughter afraid. She was surprised that she could hate someone so intensely, that she could despise another human being. But Carl Lee wasn’t much of a human being as far as she was concerned.

  “I don’t want you watching any more news shows,” she told Mel. “I don’t want you to get all caught up in that crap because it will only make you worry more.”

  “Nobody has to worry about anything,” Zack said, “because I am here to serve, protect, and take care of the farm. I gotcha covered, ladies. Stanton doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Mel looked at Zack. “What kind of gun do you have?”

  Zack and Maggie exchanged looks. She gave a slight nod. She trusted Zack to say the right thing.

  “It’s a Glock,” he said. “It’s powerful, and I know how to use it if I have to. You and your mom are safe.”

  “Are you going to kill him?” Mel asked.

  Maggie looked away. She felt frozen and hard. It didn’t matter that Mel’s question was tactless.

  Zack put his elbows on the table and leaned closer to the girl. “Okay, here’s the deal,” he said. “I’m going to be honest with you, but you have to promise to trust me. Bottom line, I am going to do what I have to in order to protect the two of you. Whatever it takes.”

  Carl Lee and Cook hadn’t walked far when an older-model baby-blue Cadillac convertible pulled off the road. The top was down; the driver sat low in the seat.

  “Would you get a load of that car?” Cook said, giving a low whistle. “That sucker’s an antique. It’s in perfect condition. No telling what it’s worth. He keeps looking at us. You think he plans on giving us a ride?”

  “We’re priests,” Carl Lee said. “Of course he wants to give us a ride.”

  The driver backed toward them, swerving from side to side. “Uh-oh, he drives like he’s drunk,” Cook said. “I’m not riding with a drunk
driver. I am totally against driving and drinking. Plus, drunk drivers have too many wrecks. I can’t take being in another wreck today.”

  “Hell, look at him,” Carl Lee said. “He’s not drunk; he’s old. Let me do the talking.” Carl Lee walked toward the car, a big smile fixed on his face.

  The man at the wheel smiled and waved. His face was a web of wrinkles, his bald head speckled with liver spots. White hair sprouted from his ears, one sharing space with a flesh-colored hearing aid.

  “Good afternoon, Fathers,” he said, peering at Carl Lee and Cook over a pair of bifocals that rested low on his nose. He wore an old terry-cloth bathrobe that bore grape juice stains. “Going my way?” he asked.

  “Well, hello there, old-timer,” Carl Lee said as he and Cook stood next to the car.

  “Old?” the man said, drawing bushy white eyebrows together in a frown. “Who are you calling old? I’m only ninety-nine. I’m still as spry as a young rooster.”

  “My mistake,” Carl Lee said. “Where are you headed?”

  “Say what?” The man cupped his ear as he looked from Carl Lee to Cook. “I’m hard of hearing, and I was in such a hurry to get on the road that I forgot my hearing aid.”

  “It’s in your ear,” Cook said loudly.

  “Really?” The man touched it. “Hey, you’re right. I forgot to turn it on.” He fiddled with it. “That’s better,” he said.

  “I asked where you were going,” Carl Lee repeated.

  “Can you fellows keep a secret?”

  Carl Lee nodded. “We’re in the business of keeping secrets.”

  “I’m running away to Canada because my daughter is sending me to a nursing home in a couple of days. She says I’m not in my right mind. She’s seventy-five years old; her mind isn’t as sharp as she thinks it is.”

  “You sound okay to me,” Cook told him, “but I’m still in shock because we were just in a terrible—”

  Carl Lee stepped on his foot. Cook winced but shut up quickly.

  “If you boys need a ride, I could use some help driving ’cause I’ve been at this wheel a while and I missed my nap,” the old man said.

  “How long have you been on the road?” Cook asked, stepping back, obviously trying to avoid Carl Lee stepping on his foot again.

  “About an hour now,” he said.

  “Sure, we’ll help you out,” Carl Lee said. “That’s what we do.” He opened the driver’s door. “Why don’t you relax in the backseat and let me take the wheel?”

  “I’d be much obliged,” he said as Carl Lee helped him out. “My name is Ed White, by the way.”

  “I’m Father Tom, and this is Father Jerry,” Carl Lee said, motioning to Cook. “But you can call us Tom and Jerry. You’re safe in our hands, Ed.”

  “Does anybody need me to make a stop before we head to the farm?” Zack asked.

  “I need—” Maggie sighed. “I need groceries, but I left my list at home.”

  “Do you want me to drive you to the house to pick it up?”

  “No, I can probably remember.” Maggie tried to sound confident, but her mind was racing in too many directions. Ultimately, though, every thought led straight to Carl Lee. Except one, she reminded herself. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Zack’s mouth on hers.

  Inside, the store was crowded with Saturday shoppers. Maggie grabbed a cart and was surprised when Zack did the same. He and Mel took off in one direction while Maggie tried to decide where to start. Her mind drew a huge blank, and she pushed her cart aimlessly for a few minutes before deciding to concentrate on buying the essentials. Milk and bread, she thought. She was always running out of milk and bread.

  Zack and Mel came up behind her a few minutes later. Mel wore a huge grin. “Look what Uncle Zack bought me.” She pointed to the cart.

  Maggie looked at their cart. Potato chips, dips, cocktail wieners, cookies, a twenty-four-pack of Pepsi, several teen magazines, a sketch pad, glitter nail polish, and poker chips? “Wow,” she said.

  Zack wore a sheepish smile. “I know it’s a little over the top, but how many times do I get to spoil my favorite niece?”

  Mel nodded. “Plus, I think we should be able to eat junk food on weekends. All my friends eat junk food, and they haven’t come up with any incurable diseases. And look—” She paused and dug through the cart. “We got you some bath spritzers. You just drop one into your bath water, soak for about an hour, and all your tension goes away. The frown lines between your eyebrows will magically disappear.”

  “I have frown lines?” Maggie asked, touching the area between her eyes and finding the skin puckered. “Gee, I guess I do.”

  Zack pulled into Maggie’s driveway a half hour later with only a few bags since Maggie hadn’t been able to remember all that she’d needed. Zack gave them the code, showed them how to punch it in so they’d know how to arm and disarm it. Maggie and Mel took turns trying it out.

  Mel helped Maggie put the grocery items away before heading toward her room with a handful of cookies. Maggie checked her telephone messages and was relieved to find the lab from Beaumont Memorial had called. She quickly dialed the number, spoke to one of the techs, and learned that the tests she’d ordered on eight-year-old Jimmy Sanders had indeed pointed to lead poisoning. She found the doctor, also a personal friend, who was taking her calls that weekend, and they discussed an aggressive treatment plan.

  Zack came through the door just as she hung up and gave a smile of relief.

  “Good news?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She told him about Jimmy Sanders.

  Zack looked pleased for her. He crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Your grandfather was a doctor,” he said. “Is that why you decided to practice medicine?”

  “Hey, I’ve been practicing medicine since I was five years old,” Maggie said with a chuckle. “Right at this very table,” she added. “My grandfather discussed all of his cases with me. My mother claims my first word as a baby was ‘diverticulitis.’ ”

  Zack grinned. “Was your grandfather disappointed when your father didn’t become a doctor?”

  “You know a lot about my family,” she said, only to get a shrug in return. “He was at first. But my dad had no desire to be stuck inside an office all day, which is why he became a cattle farmer.” She crossed her arms as well. “Since you know about my family tell me something about yours.”

  “I grew up in Richmond where I still live when I’m not out of town on a case. My mom is still there and works in real estate. Each time she finds a house she can’t live without she buys it and sells the old one.”

  “What about your father?”

  “He hasn’t been around for a while.”

  “Oh.” Maggie didn’t pry.

  “I’m an only child like you.”

  “Was it lonely for you?”

  He shook his head, and his smile was nostalgic. “I had a best friend. He’s the reason I went to work for the bureau.”

  Maggie opened the refrigerator and pulled out two decaffeinated sugar-free soft drinks. She offered one to Zack who arched a brow. “They’re not that great,” Maggie said, “but I like to think they cancel out my morning coffee and chocolate.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” he said.

  Maggie put the second one back and closed the refrigerator. “What does your mom think about your working a dangerous job?” she asked, turning in time to see the surprised but troubled look in his eyes.

  He shrugged. “You know how moms are. But my job isn’t as dangerous as it sounds.”

  “Uh-huh.” She clearly didn’t believe him. She opened her soft drink and sat at the table.

  “You just have to know what you’re doing, Maggie. There’s a lot of up-front work, a lot of planning. I don’t just walk in blindly.”

  “Have you ever been scared?”

  “Never.”

  “Liar.” She laughed.

  “Okay, I was a little nervous when the guy broke my arm. I just do my best to act the
part and not flub up my lines.”

  “Like performing in a play,” she said.

  He looked thoughtful. “I guess.”

  Zack was still thinking about the conversation with Maggie an hour later as he cleaned his rifle in the upstairs guest room. When she had likened his work to being in a play, he should have mentioned that he didn’t usually kiss the other characters. Or notice their legs and the way their hips swayed when they walked. Okay, that was a lie. He noticed. He’d fantasized. But he hadn’t touched.

  Chapter Eight

  Maggie folded back a small section of the aluminum foil from the kitchen window and gazed out at the backyard. She knew Zack would insist she recover the window once he came downstairs, but she did not like having the world and the light blocked from view so that it felt as if she were living in a tightly sealed box.

  The shadows, cast by the tall oaks and pines, had lengthened. It would be dark in an hour, making it easier for Carl Lee to slip unnoticed past police who had embedded themselves in the neighborhood woodwork and would go unnoticed by most people. But Carl Lee Stanton was not like most people. He was dangerous and cunning. And he might already be in Beaumont. He could be watching the house this very minute. She was comforted by the sound of Zack’s footsteps overhead.

  She was not comforted by their earlier conversation.

  I just do my best to act the part and not flub up my lines.

  He hadn’t been referring to people like Mel and her, Maggie reminded herself. He was talking about the bad guys who did things like break his arm. She and Mel posed no threat. He did not have to hide behind another character. He was free to be himself, and the real Zack Madden genuinely liked her daughter. He genuinely cared about their safety. Of that she was certain. What she didn’t understand was why he had checked them out beforehand. And where the hell did that kiss fit in? And when it was all over, then what? Would he just fill out his paperwork, stick them all into a file, and stamp it CASE CLOSED?

  Queenie and Everest arrived at Maggie’s shortly afterward. Maggie disarmed the alarm system, and the two stepped inside the kitchen, Everest grasping the handle on a pet carrier that contained a squawking black hen. Mel came into the room and peered inside the carrier.