“Yeah.”
“He’s a car salesman.”
Jamie laughed. She had finished her doughnut and was debating having a second, but she wouldn’t rush. She didn’t want Max to think she lacked discipline. She sipped her coffee, counted to ten.
“Just get the doughnut and be done with it,” he said, as though reading her mind. “I bought extra.”
Jamie got up, grabbed the bag and carried it to the table. “I don’t normally eat more than one, but—”
“Save it, Swifty. This is me you’re talking to. I’ve seen you go through a dozen doughnuts in two days flat.”
She frowned at Max but took a bite from the second doughnut nevertheless. “I was under a lot of stress at the time. So the guys you mentioned seemed to check out okay?”
“Yeah. Their ages vary, but most of them just want to meet someone who likes to go to a movie or dine out, that sort of thing.”
“Um, what about the guy Destiny and I thought was so cool. You know, the ad that read ‘Deeper Than the Night’?”
“I was waiting for you to ask about him. What do you know about Samuel Alister Hunter, or Sam Hunter as he’s called?”
Jamie arched both brows. “I didn’t recognize the name until just now, but then I’m not used to seeing his full name. And I can’t tell you much about him except that he was a hunk in high school. Unfortunately, I was in middle school at the time so I didn’t stand a chance. He went off to college, and eventually went to work on Wall Street. I haven’t seen him since. I had no idea he’d returned to Beaumont.”
“He just moved back. He’s semiretired after making his money in the stock market, but he’s looking to buy land which he plans to develop.”
“No kidding? I wonder if he’s still a hunk.”
“Control yourself, Swifty. You’re hot for me, remember?”
“I should probably try to set up a date with him,” she said. “Just in case he’s the murderer,” she added.
“You’re a brave and admirable woman,” Max said, “to put yourself in harm’s way in order to protect others.”
“That’s me, Max, brave and admirable. Willing to risk life and limb for the safety of others.”
Max leaned back in his chair and regarded her with a half-smile. “You didn’t sound so brave last night when we were discussing the supernatural.”
“I hope we’re not going to get on that subject again,” Jamie said.
Fleas scratched at the back door. Jamie let him in, gave him a doughnut and poured him a bowl of milk.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Max said. “He should be eating meat.”
“He has a cheeseburger every day for lunch.” Jamie put on a fresh pot of coffee, hoping it would ease her throbbing head. She leaned against the cabinet.
“Back to the subject of Sam Hunter,” Max said. “We don’t really know much about the guy, and he returned to Beaumont three days before running his ad.”
“Why would a guy with his looks be interested in someone like Luanne Ritter?” Jamie pondered aloud.
“Maybe he didn’t know her.”
“That’s hard to believe, everybody knew Luanne.”
“What did she look like?”
“She was so-so,” Jamie said, trying to think of a nice way to describe the woman.
“I’ve got all the addresses, information, everything. We need to check these people out. You’re going to have to arrange a date with them. Quickly,” he added.
“I can’t date all these men that fast,” Jamie said.
“You’re only going to contact the ones who allowed their phone numbers to be printed,” Max said. “Unless you want to tell them that you were processing their ads at the newspaper office and liked what you saw. Maybe we can enlist Destiny. She can contact half of them. Besides, she already knows what’s going on.”
“That’s a great idea,” Jamie said, sarcasm slipping into her voice. “Ronnie can chaperone.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll have to talk to her about bringing Ronnie. We don’t want to spook these guys. But I think between the two of you, we’ll be able to get the job done quicker. I’ll be close by, of course.”
“We’re not going to be able to find out who the murderer is in one date,” Jamie said.
“You’re right. We’re going to have to watch them. If I have to call in some of my people, I will.”
“We don’t have a minute to waste, Max. We need to get to work on this immediately.”
He stood, crossed the distance between them, and pulled Jamie against him. “It’s still early. We could toss out that shirt.”
Jamie’s stomach fluttered in response. He had a point there. It wasn’t even eight o’clock. Murderers usually waited until after dark to strike. She was about to respond when the doorbell rang several times.
“So much for that idea,” Max said, releasing her with a sigh.
Jamie hurried into the living room and peered through the peephole. “Oh, damn. It’s Vera,” she called out to Max. “She’s probably already heard the news. Myrna works fast.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
JAMIE REACHED FOR THE DOORKNOB AND OPENED it. “Good morning, Vera. Max and I were just having coffee and doughnuts. Won’t you join us?”
The woman stepped through the front door. “I just ran into Myrna Hobbs at the Piggly Wiggly. Were you really drunk and doing the hootchy-kootchy in one of her suites last night?”
“Aw, Jamie was just having a little fun,” Max said, coming up behind her. “Mrs. Hobbs overreacted.”
“Yeah, I was just having a little fun,” Jamie echoed.
“At least you’re being honest with me,” Vera told her, “which is a good thing. I couldn’t bear the thought of your being a slut and a liar.”
Jamie rolled her eyes. “I’m not a slut. There aren’t enough eligible men in this town for me to be a slut, even if I wanted to.”
Vera looked at Jamie. “Well, for your information, I slapped Myrna’s face and told her she’d better never make another derogatory comment about you as long as she lived.”
“Good for you,” Max said.
“You actually slapped her?” Jamie asked. “In the Piggly Wiggly?”
“Yeah, the security guard threw me out of the store, threatened to have me arrested if I didn’t leave. I can’t afford to go to the slammer because I have to teach Sunday school for Agnes Aimsley tomorrow. She’s still in shock after seeing all those unmentionables hanging in the window of Sinful Delights.” Vera had to pause to suck in a deep breath.
“Myrna Hobbs will think twice before she decides to pull me over in frozen foods and start talking trash about you. I told her it was okay if I called you a slut, but she’d better keep her fat mouth shut.”
“Thank you for defending me,” Jamie said. “I think.”
Vera shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Look, I know you’re all grown-up, but if you insist on sleeping around you’re going to have to be discreet. I hope you’re on the pill and practicing safe sex. I probably should have had this talk with you long before now. I probably shouldn’t have fed you all those brownies.”
Max regarded Jamie. “You never mentioned you were promiscuous.”
Jamie pressed the ball of her hand against her forehead. “Vera, could we talk about this later? I have a small headache.”
“She’s hungover,” Max said. “She mixed wine with Kahlúa.”
“Yeah, Myrna mentioned you had an alcohol problem,” Vera said. “You might want to get help with that.”
Fleas came up beside Jamie and nuzzled her leg as though he sensed she was in need of his support. Jamie sighed. “Would you guys give me a break? I have less sex than this dog, and he’s been neutered. And I’m not an alcoholic.”
“She’s in denial,” Max said, obviously enjoying the whole thing.
Vera turned to him. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I want you to come outside and look at this Ferrari I’m test-driving. I thought maybe you’d take a ride w
ith me, see what you think.”
Max shrugged. “Sure.”
“You’re test-driving a Ferrari?” Jamie said incredulously. “Why?”
“Because I’m thinking of buying it. I can buy a Ferrari if I want to.”
Jamie had just realized Vera was wearing Capri pants. Vera, who never wore anything other than dresses. “Do you have any idea how much they cost?”
“Yeah, but it’s ten years old, and the guy is going to cut me a deal. I’m thinking I need something a little sporty. I’m thinking I need to reinvent myself. I’ve signed up for a class on line dancing. I might meet someone. All the men at church are on their last legs.” Vera started out the door, then paused and glanced over her shoulder at Jamie. “You might want to change into something else. That shirt you’re wearing isn’t very flattering.”
BY THE TIME MAX RETURNED, JAMIE HAD SHOWered and changed into shorts and a cotton T-shirt. She wore only a hint of makeup, and had pulled her wet hair into a ponytail. Luckily, her headache had dulled.
Max paused when he saw her. “Damned if you don’t have the best set of legs I’ve ever seen on a woman. No wonder you have such a reputation with men.”
Jamie gave him one of her looks. “Tell me Vera isn’t really going to buy a Ferrari,” she said.
“I think I convinced her not to. The mileage was too high, and it’s kind of beat-up. I told her I could probably find her a good deal on a car if she’d give me a few days, but I think she’s having a good time looking. Now, why don’t we get to work?”
“Okay, I’ll call Destiny and see if she can help,” Jamie said, although she wasn’t thrilled at the prospect.
DESTINY ARRIVED AN HOUR LATER. “HERE ARE THE ground rules,” Max said, addressing both women. “You meet the guy in public, and you carry a cell phone that I will provide for each of you, complete with a GPA.”
“What the heck is a GPA?” Destiny asked.
Jamie answered. “It’s a device that lets Max know where we are at all times.”
“You two have done this sort of thing before, haven’t you?” Destiny asked.
Jamie nodded. “Yeah, and we always get the bad guy in the end.” She paused. “Um, Destiny, Max and I didn’t want to bring this up, but it might be distracting if you start talking to Ronnie on your, um, dates.”
Destiny turned to the empty chair beside her. “Did you hear that, Ronnie? We’re trying to find a killer. You’re going to have to keep your mouth shut.” She paused. Finally, she turned to Max and Jamie. “He promises to cooperate if I’ll hang out with him at the bowling alley afterward. That’s Ronnie’s idea of a good time.” She rolled her eyes.
“Okay,” Max said. “Muffin, my assistant, was able to get much of the information we need. The guy with the ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ ad is a minister. We just found out he does a lot of marriage counseling, even has a little wedding chapel and provides everything a couple needs for the auspicious occasion, right down to the flowers and catering. He’s very antidivorce and insists on counseling couples for an extended period of time before he’ll agree to marry them. He accepts fairly large donations for the sessions, and the use of his chapel. I think Jamie and I should check him out just in case. We could pose as an engaged couple.”
“That’ll never work,” Jamie said. “He’ll see right through us.”
“Not if you act like a real fiancée,” Max said. “You’re going to have to be nice to me, hold my hand, and simper at me a lot. That’s what engaged couples do. It isn’t until after the marriage that they learn to dislike each other.”
Jamie just looked at him. Leave it to Max to make marriage sound like a prison term.
“Aw, come on, Swifty, it’ll be fun,” Max said, as though he hadn’t realized he’d made a blunder. He reached for a cell phone in his pocket and punched a button. “Muffin, why don’t you see if the Reverend Heyward can schedule us after lunch,” he said. “In the meantime, Jamie and I are going to check out one Larry Johnson, author of ‘Offer Good for a Limited Time.’ ”
“I’m on it,” Muffin said. “What else?”
“Just hold tight.” Max turned to Destiny. “I want you to call the dentist. He takes Saturday-morning appointments. Can you fake a toothache?”
She shrugged. “I’ve faked orgasms, that’s gotta count for something. Besides, my wisdom teeth have been bothering me for months. I can kill two birds with one stone.”
LARRY JOHNSON OWNED AND OPERATED BEAUMONT Used Cars and reminded Jamie of a weasel with his beady, close-set black eyes. He held a hand-flex exerciser in one fist and pumped it furiously as he questioned Max about his Porsche look-alike. “That didn’t come off an assembly line,” Johnson said.
“You’re right,” Max said. “I had it custom designed.”
Johnson changed the flex device to his other hand before taking them on a tour of the lot.
“My therapist advised me to use this,” Larry told Jamie when he caught her staring. “I work out every morning at the local gym. It’s supposed to help with stress.”
“Does it?”
“No.” He chuckled. “The only thing that works is a double shot of scotch straight up.”
Jamie and Max pretended to find his words amusing. “I can certainly relate to that,” Jamie said, thinking it was a good way to break the ice. They needed to get a fix on the guy, and in order to do that they needed good rapport. “I prefer Kahlúa,” she added with a grin.
Larry smiled at her but didn’t let up on his flexing. “That’s a girlie drink.”
She batted her lashes, something Dee Dee would have done with ease but which she found taxing. “So, I’m a girl.”
Larry paused and gave her a long, hard look. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “So, do you folks see anything you like?” It was obvious Larry had seen what he liked.
“I want to take a second look at the white Chevy Corvette convertible,” Max said.
Larry nodded. “Good choice. Just so happens that’s my old car, and I took damn good care of it. Low mileage, too,” he added. He hitched his shoulders high. “Just bought me a brand-new one. Unfortunately, it’s about the only nice thing I own since my divorce. Child support payments, you know? But I’m real proud of it. Got a security system on it that’ll wake the dead.”
They walked over to the used Corvette, and Max climbed in. “You mind if I take it for a test drive?”
“No problem, pardner.” Larry dropped the keys into Max’s hand. “It runs like a charm.”
“I’ll stay here and wait for you,” Jamie said, giving Max one of her looks. She glanced Larry’s way. “I might just find something on the lot I like.”
The comment seemed to fly right over Larry’s head, Jamie noticed, but then he probably thought she and Max were a couple. Jamie figured she could change that easily enough. She looked at Larry. “You got any coffee inside?”
“Sure.”
Max took off in the Corvette, and Jamie followed Larry inside a small building. The dark paneled walls were adorned with pictures of race cars. Jamie noted a nondescript woman sitting before a computer. “This is my secretary, Mabel,” Larry said. The two women nodded, and Mabel handed Larry several messages. “Come into my office and I’ll pour you a cup of java,” he told Jamie.
“Actually, Larry, I don’t care for coffee,” Jamie said once he’d closed the door behind them.
“Well, then, we’ll just chat until your, um”—he glanced at Jamie’s ring finger, which was bare—“until your significant other returns.”
Jamie sat on a fake-leather couch. “Max and I are just friends. You know, good buddies.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice.” Flex, flex. “You can never have too many friends in this crazy world,” he said. “Me? I’m a loner.”
“Sometimes it’s good to have someone to talk to after you’ve ended a relationship. I speak from experience.”
“Sorry to hear that, Jamie. Is it okay if I call you Jamie?”
She nodded. “I know what you’re
feeling right now because I’ve gone through it. The pain and emptiness.” She sighed heavily. There were times she thought she would have made a damn good actress. “The loneliness,” she added.
He was flexing triple time. “I can’t imagine a woman with your looks being lonely. Maybe you should get out more.”
Jamie gave a grunt of disgust. “Most of the men in this town are either married or downright ugly. It’s not every day a woman meets a guy who owns his own business and is attractive to boot.”
He nodded. Finally, he jerked his head up as though a lightbulb had just gone off inside. “Oh, were you talking about me?”
Jamie wagged her finger and made a tsking sound with her tongue. “You’re playing games, Larry. I don’t like games.”
He sat up straighter in his chair. The man’s eyes registered interest. “Maybe you and I can get together for a drink sometime. Soon,” he added, after a few seconds.
“How about this evening?” Jamie asked.
He looked surprised. “Well, sure. I usually leave here around six. I could meet you in the lounge at the Holiday Inn around six-fifteen. They have happy hour until seven-thirty. Free food, half price on drinks.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “That’s usually where I eat my dinner. Not that I can’t afford to take a lady someplace nice once in a while and buy her a real meal,” he added quickly. “Why, we could—”
“The Holiday Inn will be fine, Larry. Six-fifteen,” she added.
The Corvette reappeared, and Max climbed from it. Jamie watched him walk toward the building. She wondered if Max had any idea just how good-looking he was, how no men came close in comparison.
Jamie and Larry rejoined Max. “What’d you think of the car?” Larry asked.
“I like the looks of it,” Max said. “Let us talk with our friend. If she’s interested, we’ll bring her over.”
“I look forward to hearing from you,” Larry said. He winked at Jamie. He seemed so excited at the thought of meeting her later that he didn’t even bother with a sales pitch.
Max and Jamie climbed into Max’s car and pulled from the car lot. “I’m meeting Mr. Johnson for a drink at six-fifteen,” Jamie said. “The lounge at the Holiday Inn.”