Full Tilt

  Max waited until the fire was under control before he took off toward the window. He literally jumped through it and landed hard on the ground outside. He quickly scanned the yard. Putting out the fire had only taken a few minutes, but it had given the intruder time to flee.

  Acres of land were lit up like a baseball field. Lights shone from trees and poles and fence posts. Security men raced past him, some with bloodhounds yelping loudly. The men swapped information on walkie-talkies as they shone flashlights in every direction. Grabbing a spare from one of the guards, Max skirted the property where tall red-tipped hedges concealed an electric fence.

  Finally, Max stopped running. He stood there for a moment trying to catch his breath. In the distance he heard sirens.

  Tim Duncan, head of security, hurried over. "Did you see anything?"

  Max shook his head. "I think we lost him."

  "We're not giving up yet."

  "I need to check back at the house," Max said. "The fire department is on its way." He turned and started back toward the house as the men continued to search. As he walked, Max shone his light toward the bushes. He stopped short when he spied something that had been caught in the brush. "Over here!" he shouted.

  All at once, he was surrounded by security men and dogs. A gloved hand yanked a yellow and blue bandana from a bush and pressed it against the dogs' noses. They cried out, as though in agonizing pain. The man lifted the bandana to his nose and winced, even as the dogs continued to wheeze. "Ammonia. Shit."

  Max and Duncan parted the bushes and shined their lights. "The fence has been cut," Max said dully. "He's gone."

  Duncan got on his walkie-talkie once more. "I want every vehicle we got circling the property," he said. "The guy is probably on foot, but he has to have driven out here somehow. Find him."

  The sirens closed in, fire trucks and police cars with flashing lights turning onto the property and pulling in front of the house. A few seconds later, Wrangler Jeeps and pickup trucks combed the road outside the property line, lights pointed in every direction.

  An hour later they were still searching. Frankie and Lamar Tevis joined Max. "How the hell did he get away so fast?" Frankie asked.

  Max sighed his disgust. "He tricked us, that's how. He set us up."

  "What do you mean?" Lamar asked.

  "I think whoever did this was here earlier. He cut the fence and purposely left the rag behind where we'd be sure to find it. Tonight, he entered and exited the property from another location." Max paused. "Unless he's still here."

  Lamar glanced around quickly. "You thinking what I'm thinking? That maybe the person responsible is pretending to be on our side?"

  "It's possible."

  "Well, if that's true, it's going to make my job a whole lot harder." Lamar shook his head and walked away.

  "How's everybody inside?" Max asked Frankie.

  "Jamie, Beenie, and Phillip are trying to reassure Deedee who, in turn, is trying to reassure the staff. The fire marshal is inspecting the house for damage, but at least we kept it from spreading. I'm thinking we should tell Deedee it was a prank."

  "That's not going to fly. Not even with Deedee."

  "I don't want to worry her."

  "She should be worried. You've received threatening letters, Jamie and I have been shot at, someone put dynamite in my car today, and somebody else just threw a Molotov cocktail through your window. Hell, even I'm worried."

  "Back up," Frankie said. "What's this dynamite business? You didn't mention it."

  "This is the first chance I've had."

  "Damn, Max. You and Jamie could have been killed."

  "I think that was the plan."

  Frankie wiped his hand down his face. "I don't know what to make of it."

  "Doesn't make sense to me, either," Max said. "Think about it. Bombs and high-powered automatics are designed to kill. If the person who threw the burning bottle through the window wanted to kill one of us, he was certainly close enough to use a gun."

  "He would have come closer to killing us if he'd thrown the bottle of kerosene through the window after we'd all gone to bed. It would have been less risky for him as well."

  "The smoke alarms would have awakened us," Max said, "and we still would have had time to get out. As for risk, if this person is somebody we're accustomed to having on the property, the guards wouldn't pay attention to him."

  "The only person who came on and off the property was my campaign manager. And Phillip, of course."

  "Who just happened to arrive only minutes after the fire started."

  Frankie shook his head. "Phillip is like family. Besides, he would never do anything that might endanger Jamie."

  * * * * *

  Deedee jerked her head back so hard it would have given an older woman whiplash. "Beenie, would you get that nasty stuff away from me!" she cried, wheezing, eyes watering. "What is that!"

  "It's smelling salts, sweet pea. All Southern women use it when they get the vapors."

  "Someone almost burned down my house. I deserve to have the vapors if I want them. What the heck is a vapor?"

  "I don't know, but it sounds dangerous to me."

  "You're the one who's going to be in danger if you put that stuff near my nose again."

  Jamie decided it was time to cut in. They had moved into the library so the fire marshal could investigate, but the acrid smell of smoke lingered through the house. "Women in the South are more sophisticated today," she said. "They don't get the vapors anymore. If they get upset they have a couple of tequila shooters."

  "Sounds good to me," Deedee said.

  "And they call it something like a Magnolia Blossom tonic so it doesn't look bad," Phillip added with a smile.

  Deedee's face was flushed a bright red. "Lord, I'm so hot I could die. Could someone turn on the air conditioner before I spontaneously combust?"

  Phillip hurried toward the thermostat. "It's already on sixty. If I turn it any lower it'll freeze."

  "That's what I need. Ice."

  "Is there anything else I can do?" Phillip asked. When Deedee shook her head, he started from the room. "I'm going to see what's happening out back."

  "Oh, God, I hope Frankie and Max are safe," Deedee cried.

  "Take this, Deedee," Beenie offered.

  "What is it?"

  "Just a little nerve pill. It'll calm you down."

  Jamie stepped closer. "Wait a minute, Beenie. Let me see that."

  "It's Xanax, honey. I take them when I get anxious."

  "Aren't they habit-forming?"

  "I'm only giving her one, love. She's not likely to end up on some street corner selling sex for another fix. It'll take the edge off."

  Deedee pushed his hand away. "I don't need a tranquilizer, Beenie. I need you to get out of my face so I can breathe. Why don't you check on Choo-Choo? The poor thing is probably hiding because of all the commotion."

  "I'll get him for you, and then I'll make you a Frappuccino. That'll cool you off."

  "Are you okay?" Jamie asked her, once Beenie hurried away.

  "I feel like a train wreck right now. I never thought something like this would happen just because Frankie decided to go into politics. Now, we're not safe in our own beds. I can't even leave the house. How am I supposed to shop? Not that there's any place to shop in this godforsaken town. I'll be reduced to shopping from catalogs. What fun is that?"

  "You can shop over the Internet."

  "It's not the same, Jamie. I enjoy sitting on those dainty little sofas drinking champagne while women model the latest fashion. I like the smell of designer clothes. Sometimes, I wish Frankie had never laid eyes on this town."

  Jamie tried to reassure her, but the fire had left her shaken as well. She wondered if Max was okay. Had he not acted so quickly when the fire had started, the house would have very likely burned down over their heads.

  "I hope Max didn't hurt himself jumping out that window," Deedee said as though reading Jamie's mind. "I've never seen anyone
do that except on TV, and it's usually a stuntman."

  "Some actors don't use stuntmen," Beenie said, coming through the door with the Frappuccino in one hand, Choo-Choo running behind him. "I don't think Clint Eastwood ever used a stuntman."

  "Does Harrison Ford?" Deedee asked, scooping up her dog. "No, don't tell me, I'd be too disappointed if he did."

  Jamie wasn't listening. She wondered how someone had managed to get onto the property and so close to the house with all the security surrounding it. Of course, the estate was huge, and the men couldn't patrol every inch of it, but they were obviously dealing with someone cunning enough to slip on and off the property unnoticed. Unless it was one of the servants; but she couldn't imagine anyone on the staff trying to hurt Frankie or Deedee. They were kind and generous to a fault when it came to their employees.

  "I'm willing to bet half my salary that Brad Pitt uses a stuntman," Beenie said. "Not that I'd blame him, what with his looks. That Jennifer Aniston is one lucky lady." Beenie sighed, raised his forefinger to his lip and tapped it. "What a man."

  The housekeeper appeared at the door. She looked shaken. "Would anyone care for something since dinner has been held up?"

  "I couldn't eat if someone put a gun to my head," Deedee said, then winced. "Gee, with the way things are going that might be a distinct possibility. Jamie, would you like something?"

  Jamie didn't have much of an appetite, either. "I'm fine."

  Phillip stepped into the room. "They're still looking," he said, "but I'm willing to bet the culprit is long gone."

  "I wish they'd come back inside," Deedee said. "What if that deranged person was trying to lure Frankie outside so he could—" She paused and shuddered.

  "Frankie and Max are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves," Jamie told her. She suspected Max could hold his own in any situation. She had seen how fast his mind worked, and despite being irritated with him much of the time, she had to respect him for taking control of matters as quickly as he did.

  "Jamie's right," Phillip said. "They seem to have everything under control. Try to relax."

  Frankie entered the room, his eyes going directly to his wife. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

  Deedee leapt to her feet. "Did you find him?"

  Frankie hesitated. "They're still looking."

  Deedee gazed at her husband, her eyes bright with fear. She turned away. "I can't live like this, Frankie. I know how much this election means to you, but I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt—" She paused and swallowed. "Or worse."

  Frankie stepped closer and took his wife's hand in his. "Do you want me to pull out of the race, Deedee? I will if that's what you want."

  She met his gaze. "I just want my husband and friends to be safe, that's all."

  Max joined them a few minutes later. "I spoke with the fire marshal. He and the others are getting ready to leave. He said he'd call you tomorrow."

  The chef appeared at the door. "I'd like to go ahead and serve dinner now before it's ruined."

  "Yeah, sure," Frankie said, offering Deedee his hand. She gave her guests a brave smile, but it didn't quite reach her green eyes.

  Everyone was quiet as they entered the impressive dining room. Jamie wondered why they even bothered. Food was the last thing on her mind. As if sensing her unease, Phillip patted her hand but waited until they'd been served bowls of lobster bisque before speaking.

  "In all the commotion, I forgot to ask you how things were at work today," he said.

  "A little tense at first, but I think everything is going to be okay."

  "I tried to reach you a couple of times at the end of the day, but you'd already left."

  "Max and I had to run by my place so I could grab some clothes."

  Phillip turned to Max. "I appreciate your keeping an eye on my fiancee," he said. "I'm trying to reschedule my workload so I can be available at all times."

  "There's no need, Phillip," she said. "I don't need you or Max baby-sitting me. I can take care of myself." Jamie realized all eyes were on her, and she wished she hadn't used such a curt tone with him. "I'm sorry," she said, looking from Phillip to Max. "I guess I'm a little anxious after what happened."

  "You know it's all over the news," Phillip said. "The TV station has interviewed Lamar several times. Mother was shocked when she found out the kind of weapon that was used."

  Jamie and Max exchanged looks. Frankie shifted uneasily in his chair.

  "It was a deer rifle," Deedee said.

  Phillip laughed. "Hardly."

  "Let's change the subject," Frankie suggested.

  "What kind of gun was it, Phillip?" Deedee asked.

  Phillip glanced around the table as if sensing he'd said something he shouldn't. "You don't know?"

  "What kind of weapon was it?" Deedee repeated, this time firmly.

  Phillip hesitated. "Some kind of automatic weapon," he said. "The police aren't releasing anything else on it at the moment."

  Deedee gasped. "Are you sure?"

  Phillip looked at Jamie as if hoping she could somehow fix his mistake. "That's just what I heard, Deedee," he said. "You know how the media is. They tend to blow things out of proportion."

  Deedee whirled around in her chair and looked at Frankie. "Why didn't you tell me?" she cried. "Deer hunters don't use those kinds of weapons and you know it."

  "I didn't want to worry you."

  "Worry me? How could you keep something like that from me, Frankie? You've always been honest with me."

  "Calm down, big sister," Max said. "The truth is, nobody knows anything yet, not even Chief Tevis, so we're wasting our time speculating." He glanced around the table. "Surely we can come up with better dinner conversation than this." He smiled at Jamie. "Why don't you tell us how your wedding plans are going?"

  Jamie shot him a look that could have killed a raging bull. "I'm afraid you'd have to ask Phillip's mother. She's handling most of it."

  "Are you planning to wear white?" Max asked, a teasing hit in his eyes.

  Phillip glanced at him curiously. "Why wouldn't she?"

  "Max is just being funny, darling," Jamie said. "Ignore him and maybe he'll go away."

  Phillip relaxed. "You should come to the wedding, Max. I'll see that you get an invitation."

  "Hey, I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'd like to see Jamie all gussied up. I may even spring for a wedding gift."

  "Deedee, I'd really like your opinion on my wedding gown," Jamie said, hoping to get her friend's mind off her worries.

  "Of course," Deedee said, but she didn't sound as enthusiastic as she usually did when it came to discussing clothes.

  Tension was thick throughout the rest of the meal, and nobody seemed particularly interested in food. Deedee didn't touch hers, despite Frankie's coaxing. Finally, she stood. "I don't wish to appear rude," she said, "but I need to go to bed. I have a splitting headache."

  Chapter Seven

  Frankie slumped on the sofa, looking at Max. "What do you think I should do?"

  "I've already given you my opinion. You pull out now and you're going to let a lot of people down, the same people who are counting on you to make a difference in this town."

  He sighed. "I know. I talk to people all the time who are struggling to make ends meet because there are no jobs to be found in this town. Some of them are living on unemployment, and these are proud people who are accustomed to supporting themselves." He shook his head sadly. "This town needs more industry so we can put people to work."

  "I don't know what I'd do in your predicament," Phillip said. "I wouldn't want to jeopardize my family's safety either, but I know you're devoted to this town."

  "I couldn't go on without Deedee," Frankie said miserably. "She's my whole life."

  Jamie was touched by his words. She had never met a couple so close, and she wondered if she and Phillip would ever reach that level. "That's so sweet, Frankie."

  Phillip looked at Jamie. "Are you planning to stay here tonight?"
>
  She nodded. "I want to be here for Deedee."

  "I understand." He checked his wristwatch. "It's getting late so I'll run and let you folks get to bed. Frankie, thanks for a great meal."

  "I'll walk you out," Jamie said. She followed him to the door.

  "Now, you be careful," Phillip warned. "I don't want anything happening to you." He kissed her softly and headed for his car.

  Jamie returned to the living room. "Do you want me to look in on Deedee?" she asked Frankie.

  "No, I'll check on her," he said.

  Max waited until he and Jamie were alone before saying anything. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah."

  "He slipped right through our fingers, Jamie."

  "Do you think it could have been one of the security guards?"

  "Anything is possible."

  Jamie shivered.

  "Are you cold?"

  "Well, that's pretty much a given in this house, but I'm okay. It frightens me that someone was able to get that close unseen."

  Max studied her. "I didn't mean to scare you. I probably said too much."

  "I'm not Deedee. I don't want information held back from me. I'm in this, too."

  As if to comfort her, Max put his hand on her knee. Jamie felt his warmth seep into her skin. She shifted on the sofa. Max hesitated a moment before pulling his hand away. "We should talk."

  His voice was low and intimate, making the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

  "We are talking," Jamie said, trying to shift the direction in which he was traveling. "We have to figure out this thing."

  "Which thing? There is more than one thing going on here at the moment."

  "I'm perfectly aware of that." She stood and crossed the room, but she could still feel his touch. She didn't have to look at him to know how handsome he was in the white shirt and brown linen slacks he wore, how his dark eyes seemed to take in everything at once, even though he seemed entirely focused on her.

  There was no denying the attraction she felt for him, and she only had to look into his dark eyes to know it was mutual. Lately, she found herself gazing at his handsome face when she thought he wouldn't notice. She wished she could touch his hair because she could only imagine what it would feel like. She also wondered what it would be like to feel his arms around her, and she immediately felt guilty. She had promised herself to Phillip, and she had no right to think about another man.