Jamie gave a huge sigh. Suddenly, her thoughts took a drastic turn, and she snapped her head up. Holy cow! Destiny Moultrie had warned her she would be talking to a man in a uniform, and it would be bad. She had been right on the money. Jamie picked up the telephone and dialed the woman’s number. Destiny answered on the first ring.
“We need to talk,” Jamie said.
“I DEMAND TO KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON,” VERA said, standing in the doorway of Jamie’s office. “And I’m not going to take no for an answer.”
Jamie noted the determined look on Vera’s face. “You’re not armed, are you?” she said.
Vera pressed her lips into a grim line and ignored Jamie’s question. “You’ve never kept secrets from me. Why was Lamar Tevis here? What’d you do now? Are you in trouble with the police?”
Jamie gave a sigh. Why did the woman always assume she’d done something wrong? “Luanne Ritter was murdered.”
Vera’s brows shot up in surprise. “No kidding? Well, I’m sure she had it coming.”
“Vera!”
“Nobody liked her anyway. Folks only borrowed money from her when they were desperate. And Luanne liked to talk. If someone’s credit rating was low, she blabbed it all over town. Why, I heard that one of Luanne’s employees roughed up a couple of customers who fell behind on their payments. And to think, Luanne’s husband, God rest his soul, was such a nice man. If he knew how Luanne treated her customers, he’d have reached right out of his grave and snatched her bald-headed.”
“Well, now, that’s something to think about,” Jamie said, not knowing how to respond.
“I’m telling you, that woman was no better than a loan shark. So why did Lamar come to you?”
Jamie didn’t meet her gaze. She didn’t like lying to Vera. “Um, Mike was on the crime scene, and Lamar doesn’t want vital information printed in the paper.”
Vera suddenly looked indignant. “Why didn’t Mike call me? I’m the assistant editor. I should have been there to take photos.”
“I suppose he felt he had to move fast since it was a murder investigation.” Jamie was proud that Mike had made it to the scene. He was a good editor, but his poor time-management skills and sexual exploits had interfered with his work in the past. He now made a concerted effort to get to work on time.
Vera didn’t look placated. She sniffed, a definite sign of annoyance. “Well, I have to leave for a hair appointment,” she said. “Helen is going to cover the phones. Besides, I want to be the first to tell everybody at the beauty shop about Luanne.”
Five minutes later, Mike rushed into Jamie’s office. As usual, his clothes looked as though he’d slept in them. His light brown hair was mussed, as though he’d finger-combed it on his way out of the house. “Have you heard the news?” he asked.
“Yes. Lamar was here earlier.”
“I’m going to get right on the story. We’re going to have a kick-butt headline. Oh, and you’re not going to believe this one. They were hauling Luanne out of her house on a stretcher, and the body bag slipped. Luanne hit the ground.”
“Oh, geez. Please don’t mention it in your article.”
“Lamar almost had a stroke.”
“So did Vera when she found out you didn’t call her to take pictures.”
“Uh-oh. Maybe I should leave town for a couple of days,” he said. “By the way, are you going to Frankie Fontana’s birthday party tomorrow night? It’s the talk of the town, what with him being the new mayor and just turning fifty and all.”
“Yeah, I’m going.”
“You should take me with you. I could get pictures for the society column.”
Jamie hadn’t thought of that. Frankie’s wife, Dee Dee, would go all-out for the party, and the photos would fill up space. With the exception of Luanne Ritter’s murder, there just wasn’t enough going on in Beaumont these days. “You’d have to rent a tux.”
“I’ve already got one. Come on, Jamie, I need a night out. My life is as boring as yours.”
“My life is not boring.”
“Whatever. So, what do you say?”
Jamie pondered it. At least it meant she wouldn’t have to show up alone. Not that she’d ever let that stop her before, but this was different since she’d already told Max she had a date. She had to save face. “Okay, you can go as my escort.”
“Your escort? Oh, I get it. You couldn’t find a date.”
Jamie gave him a look.
“Hey, I understand. It’s not like I’ve never had to scramble to find someone to go with me at the last minute. It’s harder for women to go alone, though. They tend to look desperate.”
Jamie drummed her fingers on her desk. “Mike, don’t you have an article to write?”
“Hello?” a voice called out.
Jamie looked up to find Destiny standing in the doorway. Mike looked, as well. “Well, hello to you,” he said, straightening his tie and squaring his shoulders as if to make himself appear taller. “May I help you?” His eyes were fixed on her breasts.
“I’m here to see Jamie.”
He went on as if he hadn’t heard. “I’m her editor, Mike Henderson.” He rubbed a hand over his head, smoothing out his rumpled hair. “You’ve probably seen my byline.”
“Destiny Moultrie,” she said in her husky voice. “And, no, I haven’t had the pleasure of reading your articles. I’ve just moved to Beaumont.”
“You just moved here?” he repeated. “Well, then you probably haven’t had a chance to dine at our best restaurants or see the sights. I could—”
“I don’t eat out much,” Destiny said. “I’m a vegetarian.”
Mike smiled broadly. “A vegetarian? Well, now, isn’t that a coincidence. It just so happens I’m a vegetarian, too.”
Jamie tried to suppress a smile. Mike lived on fast food and probably wouldn’t recognize a zucchini from a cucumber. “Um, Mike, about that article—”
“Yeah, yeah.” He reached into his pocket. “Here’s my business card, Miss Moultrie.”
“Call me Destiny,” she said, taking the card.
“If you should find yourself in need of a tour guide, I’m the man for the job. Oh, and use my pager. That’s quicker.”
“Thank you, Mike.”
He was still smiling as he backed from the room and closed the door.
“Nice man,” Destiny said to Jamie.
“Yes, Mike can be very, um, charming,” Jamie said. She motioned for Destiny to take a seat. “Thank you for coming right over,” she said. “I have something I want to discuss with you.”
“Have you decided about the job?”
“I’m still thinking about it.” She paused. “Something terrible has happened.” Jamie debated whether or not to tell her about Luanne and decided to hold off.
Destiny leaned forward. “Oh, my, what is it?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
Destiny shook her head. “I haven’t had any more visions if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Nothing about the man in uniform who was supposed to question me?”
“No, nothing. Why?”
Jamie leveled her gaze on the woman. “I was questioned by the chief of police this morning about a murder that took place last night.”
Destiny simply looked at her. “I’m not surprised. Who was the victim?”
Jamie told her what she knew.
Destiny listened carefully. “I’m not getting anything on it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t come to me later.” She suddenly glanced behind her. “Ronnie, I asked you to wait in the car.”
Jamie looked up at the vacant spot behind her. “Your dead spirit came with you?”
“Sorry. Just ignore him.”
Jamie nodded as though it were an everyday occurrence to have a dead spirit in her office. “Destiny, I don’t know anything about psychic ability; in fact, I don’t really believe in such things.”
“I know that, but I hope you won’t let it stand in the way of giving me a job. I
am perfect for it. I have feel for what people really need help with. I can help them, Jamie. I’ve done this sort of thing before with a lot of success.”
Jamie considered it. If an advice column pulled in more readers, it could only mean more revenue for the newspaper. “Tell you what. I’ll announce the new column in an article and see if we get any responses. If we get a significant number, the job is yours. As long as you realize I have editorial control on what goes out,” she added.
“Are you going to announce to your readers that I’m psychic?”
“The jury is still out on that one.” Jamie wasn’t sure how the citizens of Beaumont would accept it.
“Don’t forget, I want to be referred to as the Divine Love Goddess Advisor. I think it’s catchy, don’t you?”
Jamie didn’t have a clue. Probably folks would laugh her right out of town. “You realize I’m going out on a limb here.”
“I won’t let you down,” Destiny promised.
VERA WALKED THROUGH THE DOOR TWO HOURS later. Jamie sat back in her chair and stared, her mouth agape. “Wow!” The gray was gone, and her hair cut in a flattering style.
Vera preened. “Susie colored it, added a light frosting, and then cut it. She says this haircut is the rage in Hollywood. Susan Sarandon and Sharon Stone are wearing this style. Mitzi, the cosmetologist, did my makeup. Of course, I ended up buying fifty dollars’ worth of foundation, powder, and eye shadow from her, but she showed me how to use it to enhance my best features.”
“You look great,” Jamie said and meant it. “In fact, you look ten years younger.”
“That’s what everyone said. It sort of made up for the fact they already knew about Luanne Ritter. News travels fast in this town.” She paused. “Um, Jamie, would you mind if I kept the Mustang for a few more days? It’s going to cost a fortune to fix my old car.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Don’t ask.”
“It’s the engine, right?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean your psychic friend is on the up-and-up.”
“You’re saying it’s just another coincidence?” Jamie asked.
“I’m saying my car is old, and the engine was bound to give out sooner or later.”
Jamie just looked at her.
“Frankly, the car is not worth what it would cost to replace the engine so I need to look around, see if I can find something affordable.”
“You’re welcome to keep the Mustang as long as you need it,” Jamie replied.
“You’re a doll. By the way, I hear your friend Dee Dee is throwing a big birthday party for Frankie tomorrow night. You plan on going?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Who are you going with?” Vera asked.
Big pause. “Mike.”
“Our Mike? What’s wrong, couldn’t you find a real date?” She didn’t wait for Jamie to respond. “Well, I don’t blame you for not wanting to go alone. Not with people still talking about your broken engagement and all.”
Jamie felt her ego plunge to her toes. “That wasn’t my fault.” Which was true. She’d broken up with Phillip Standish because his mother had been the ringleader of the town’s corruption scandal. “Besides, I didn’t love him.” That was true, too. She’d simply wanted to belong to a real family for once. Security and predictability had been important to her at the time. Seemed those days were gone forever. Her life was about as predictable as a tornado. And that tornado had a name: Max Holt.
“Oh, nobody is blaming you,” Vera said. “It’s just, well, I don’t want folks feeling sorry for you. I wish you could have found a better date than Mike. I mean, he’s so young. He can’t be more than twenty-four or five.”
“I’m hoping he’ll look older in his tux,” Jamie said.
“I’m hoping he’ll remember to wash behind his ears.”
Leave it to Vera to make things worse, Jamie thought. “It’s not a real date, okay? He’s just acting as my escort. Besides, he wanted to go so he could snap some pictures for the society column.” Jamie regretted the words before they left her mouth. Snapping pictures was supposed to be Vera’s job.
“I’ve already heard about the birthday cake your friend Dee Dee chose for Frankie,” Vera said, as if she were more interested in the latest gossip than she was in snapping pictures. “Lyle Betts baked it if that tells you anything.”
Jamie leaned back in her seat. “Oh, yeah?”
“The way I heard it, Lyle has an adults’ only book to order from. The cake is supposed to be of a naked woman.”
Jamie chuckled. It sounded like something Dee Dee would do; she could be outlandish at times. Which was why some of the more genteel families had had trouble accepting the couple when they’d first moved to Beaumont. Dee Dee had arrived wearing rhinestone outfits, and Frankie had shocked the town when he’d invited his old wrestling buddies for a visit. Jamie had taken them under her wing and invited them to all the social events, and the two had become a hit. It was a known fact they could liven up even the dullest party with their presence. And when Frankie had run for mayor, promising to clean up town corruption, he’d won hands down.
“And get this,” Vera said. “People are lining up at Lyle’s bakery to buy brownies. Wouldn’t surprise me if half the women in this town ended up pregnant before long,” she added with a knowing look.
Jamie promised herself to steer clear of the brownies.
THE FOLLOWING NIGHT, JAMIE SLIPPED ON HER blue silk dress, and checked herself in the mirror. Her makeup and hair were perfect. She had taken a long bubble bath, slathered herself with lotion from head to toe, and then given herself a manicure and a pedicure. She tried to convince herself it had nothing to do with Max.
She’d even tried to convince herself that her trip to Maxine Chambers’s lingerie shop had nothing to do with Max, but beneath her clothes she wore a body suit that was designed to make a man’s tongue fall to the floor. The fact that she’d spent close to two hundred dollars in the shop had almost caused her to swallow her own tongue.
The doorbell rang at precisely six forty-five. Jamie opened the door and found Mike on the other side. He wore a baby-blue tux that was outdated, and at least one size too small. Ruffles peeked out from his sleeves. “Oh, geez,” she said.
“I know it’s a little snug,” he told her. “My parents bought it for my high school prom. I guess I’ve filled out.”
“You look fine,” Jamie told him, not wanting to hurt his feelings. She knew he tried to help his parents financially from time to time, and odds were he couldn’t afford to rent a tux. Probably nobody would notice his white socks anyway. Besides, it wasn’t a date. Mike was going as part of his job.
“Hey, you look gorgeous,” he said, taking a long look. “You should dress up more often, and you wouldn’t have so much trouble finding a date. Hey, speaking of gorgeous, what’s your friend Destiny doing tonight? I’m here to tell you, that woman is hot. You should fix us up.”
“Don’t you think she’s a little, um, mature for you?” Jamie asked.
“Age is not an issue with me. I’m taking you out, aren’t I?”
Jamie shot him a dark look. “May we leave now?”
JAMIE DID NOT SEE MAX AMONG THE CROWD OF people when she and Mike came through the door at Frankie and Dee Dee’s, and her heart sank. What if he’d been unable to get away? Or maybe he’d had a better offer in the way of female companionship. Max Holt would naturally have his share of offers. Jamie pushed the thought aside. Max would not renege on a promise to be at his brother-in-law’s fiftieth birthday party. She craned her head, trying to see above the tall heads in the room.
Max spotted Jamie the minute she stepped through the front door. He smiled at the sight of her so-called date, who immediately headed toward the dining room where the buffet was set up. His smile broadened when he noticed she was looking for him, but he was hidden from view at his place beside one of the round, floor-to-ceiling columns inside the house. He simply stood there for a mo
ment watching her. Finally, he moved toward her until he was standing directly behind her.
“Looking for someone?”
Jamie felt the hairs stand on the back of her neck at the sound of his voice. Every nerve in her body sprang to life as she turned and found herself looking into Max Holt’s handsome face. For a moment all they could do was stand and stare at each other. It was as though all the people in the room had evaporated.
“Hello, Max,” she said, trying to sound cool. But cool wasn’t easy, what with her heart beating like a conga drum in her chest. Damn, he looked good in his black tux, which, unlike Mike’s, was simple and elegant and probably tailor made. Of course, the man looked good no matter what he wore.
Max was all male—sinewy muscle, gorgeous olive complexion, hard jaw. He was as polished as they came, with an underlying air of danger that oddly made her feel safe in his presence.
His smile was slow and lazy as a winding river. “You amaze me, Swifty. I thought you couldn’t get any prettier. I was wrong.”
Jamie offered him a benign smile, meant to make him feel as though she were immune to his charm. “Thank you, Max. Coming from a world-renowned womanizer I consider that quite a compliment.”
He grinned. “So, who’s the boy?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your date?”
“You know Mike Henderson. I hardly think he qualifies as a boy. He’s, um, not exactly a real date, he just escorted me. He’s here to take pictures for the society column.”
“If he were any younger, I’d have to report you to the authorities.”
“Same old Max.”
“Tell you what, Swifty. I’m going to be a gentleman about this, seeing as how you probably think I took you for granted. I assumed you wanted to see me as badly as I wanted to see you. But let’s get something straight.” His tone dropped, and there was a slight huskiness to it. “You leave the party with me.”