Full Tilt

  Jamie screamed as Max dove for her, pulling her down onto the floor. Together they rolled against the wall and lay there while the shots continued and everything shattered around them.

  Jamie tried not to move as the firing continued, the noise so loud she feared her eardrums would burst. Suddenly, something painful pierced her leg, and she winced. "Oh, crap," she said. "And I didn't think this day could get worse."

  Max held her fast, covering her with his own body. "What is it?"

  "I've been shot," she said.

  Chapter Four

  The firing stopped as quickly as it had begun, followed by the sound of screeching tires as a car sped away. Max rolled off Jamie and winced at the sight of her leg. An ugly shard of glass protruded from her calf. Quickly, he searched for other wounds. Thankfully, there were none.

  Jamie sat up, took one look at her leg and gave a sigh of absolute disgust. "Would you look at that? I've gone all day without getting a run in these pantyhose. Now I wish I'd gone ahead and bought the store brand instead of spending four dollars more for a name brand." She sighed. "Oh, double damn."

  Max just looked at her.

  "Well, are you going to pull the blasted thing out or do I have to sit here and bleed to death?"

  Max reached for the knot in his tie, undid it and pulled it from his neck. He jerked the glass shard from her leg.

  Jamie sucked in her breath sharply. "Ouch!"

  "I never promised it would feel good," he said as he wrapped the tie around her, binding the wound tight to keep it from bleeding worse. "This should do until we can get help. Call nine-one-one. I need to check outside." He hurried from the room and almost bumped into one of the men from production. They did a little dance as Max tried to get past him, and the other man didn't seem to know which way to move. Finally, Max pushed him out of the way and ran.

  Jamie was already on the telephone, explaining the situation to the police dispatcher. With assurances that help was on the way, she hung up and found Lyle, her production manager, staring at her leg in concern.

  "Miss Swift, are you okay?" he asked. "I came in from the back to go to the bathroom and I heard the noise." He glanced around the shot-up office in disbelief.

  "I'm okay," Jamie replied. "I'll probably have a scar on my leg the size of our parking lot. There goes my dream of competing in the Miss South Carolina beauty pageant. Is everyone in back okay, Lyle?"

  He nodded. "I'm sure nobody back there heard the shots, what with the printing press going at full speed. Do you need me to do something?"

  "The police are on their way."

  * * * * *

  The police arrived ten minutes later, followed by an ambulance. As a paramedic treated Jamie's wound, the police chief, Lamar Tevis, a slightly overweight, sandy-haired man in baggy khakis and a badly wrinkled cotton shirt, issued orders to his men. "Call Bud from the crime lab, and tell him to get over here right now."

  "Yes, Chief."

  Lamar turned to Jamie and Max. "Did either of you see anything?"

  Max shook his head. "They got away before I could get a look."

  "Who are you?" Lamar bluntly asked.

  Jamie introduced Max. Lamar looked impressed. "I've read about you in the newspaper."

  Max handed him a metal casing he'd found in the street. "Looks like it came from a high-powered automatic."

  Lamar turned the casing over several times as though he might find a clue. "We don't see this kind of action down here. Somebody is mighty serious about killing somebody." He studied Max. "Do you have any enemies? Anybody who might want you dead?"

  "I try to conduct business fairly," Max said, "although I'm sure I've made a few people angry in my dealings. I can't think of anyone who'd actually want to kill me."

  Lamar turned to Jamie. "Have you been printing anything controversial in your newspaper?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Well, I did accidentally print that Peggy Block won a blue ribbon for her Wedding Ring quilt, when it was actually Jane Barker."

  Lamar frowned. "Did you print a retraction?" When Jamie nodded, he went on. "Well, then, we know that's not it." At Max's incredulous look Lamar added, "These ladies take their quilts seriously."

  "Obviously," Max said, his voice controlled as though he were trying to practice patience. "But one possibility we might consider is that Jamie is covering the mayoral campaign and has already endorsed Frankie Fontana. Since she owns the only newspaper in town, it won't sit well with his opponent. I'm sure you're aware of the threatening mail Frankie has received."

  Jamie looked surprised. "He's getting threatening mail? I didn't know that."

  Lamar nodded. "Yeah, we're looking into it, but I don't see how the two are connected." He looked at Jamie. "Are you sure you printed a retraction?"

  "Yes, Lamar!"

  "How about your employees? Anybody holding any grudges against you?"

  "Just Vera. She's mad at me because I haven't given her a raise in a long time."

  "She carries a .38, doesn't she?"

  "How do you know that?"

  "My cousin's wife goes to the same beauty parlor. The gun fell out of Vera's purse once." He looked concerned. "Guess I'll have to wake Judge Dobbert so I can get a search warrant. He's not going to like it."

  "You're not going to search Vera's house! Jeez, Lamar, Vera wouldn't lay a hand on me. She loves me like a daughter."

  "Well, that's true." He sighed. "Doesn't look like this is going to be an easy case. Doesn't look like I'm going to be able to take time off for my annual fishing trip, either."

  "Perhaps this was politically motivated," Max said.

  Lamar's expression went blank. "Are you thinking of running for office, too?"

  Max and Jamie exchanged looks. "No, but the attempted hit might have been a ploy to scare off Frankie," Max said. "Nobody can get to him because his place has more security than Fort Knox. Since I'm his cousin they might try to get to him by hurting me. Or Miss Swift since she's a close friend."

  "Well, he did threaten to look into those missing tax dollars," Lamar said. "You might be on to something."

  "And who better to help Frankie with the investigation than his cousin Max Holt?" Jamie said.

  "Man, this puts a whole new light on things," Lamar said.

  Bud from the crime lab arrived. "Holy smoke, Lamar!" he said the minute he stepped into Jamie's office. "What happened here?"

  "Somebody shot holes through Jamie's window."

  "Hell's bells, I figured that out for myself. Does anyone know why?

  "We're working on it. I want you to run this metal casing through ballistics and see if we can get an exact make on the weapon."

  Bud took the casing and looked at it closely. "Man oh man, this here puppy is bad." He looked at Jamie. "I hope you cleared up matters between the quilting-bee ladies. My wife is part of the group, and she was mad as a hornet that somebody else got credit."

  Max turned and looked out the window.

  Jamie suspected Max was growing impatient with the local law enforcement personnel. "Lamar, can we go?"

  "Give me just a sec," he said. "I need to write up a quick report and have ya'll sign it. And I'll have my men board up the front window for you," he added.

  "Would you mind leaving one of the deputies here until my production crew finishes up?"

  "Sure thing. Do you want me to post someone outside your house?"

  "I'm taking Miss Swift to the Fontana place," Max said. When Jamie looked like she might argue, he went on. "Frankie's house is the safest place in town right now."

  Jamie relented. She was bone tired, and she suspected she wouldn't get much sleep if she was home alone.

  "I may as well tell you there's someone from the local TV station outside," Bud said. "I tried to get rid of him, but he's looking for a story."

  "I'll go out with you," Lamar said.

  As soon as they finished the report Jamie followed Max and Lamar outside. Sure enough, a reporter stood outside the door, another man
taping them as they tried to pass.

  A man shoved a microphone in Jamie's face. "Miss Swift, can you tell me what happened here tonight?"

  "I have no comment," she said.

  "Go ahead," Lamar said quietly. "I'll talk to them."

  The reporter faced him and raised the microphone to him. "We're ready, Chief."

  Max and Jamie hurried away. His car was parked on the other side of her Mustang convertible. As Jamie started around her car, she paused.

  "Oh, my God!"

  Max whipped around. "What is it?"

  "They shot a hole through my passenger door!" Jamie knelt on the ground beside her car so she could get a closer look. She felt her throat close up. "I don't believe it."

  Max knelt beside her. "Probably ricocheted off the building. That's too bad."

  Jamie's eyes stung. "You don't understand. I love this car. It's—" She almost choked on the words. She looked up at Max. "You wouldn't understand."

  "Help me."

  "My father gave me this car as a graduation present, it's really all I have left," she added mournfully.

  "I'm really sorry, Jamie. The good news is it can be fixed."

  She swiped her eyes, determined not to burst into tears. To a man like Max Holt, who'd probably spent millions having others design his automobile, her car was just an old Mustang convertible. "It's just a car," she muttered. "Don't worry about it."

  * * * * *

  "You think we got 'em, dude?" Lenny asked, as Vito parked behind the motel and cut the engine.

  "I don't know how we could have missed, but we can't leave town until we know for sure. We don't get paid until it's a done deal." He grunted. "I wanted to get out of here tonight. The cops are probably combing the area as we speak."

  "Nobody knows we're here, man. The motel manager thinks Mitzi is alone."

  Vito nodded. "Yeah, but the sooner we blow this town the better. I've got a bad feeling. Now, be quiet going in, okay? If Mitzi's asleep I don't want to wake her. She'll ask questions."

  * * * * *

  Frankie and Deedee were awakened at two a.m. by the telephone. Frankie picked it up. "Yeah?" He rubbed his eyes and listened. "Let them in."

  "Who is it?" Deedee asked, reaching for the lamp. She turned it on, and the two blinked at one another sleepily.

  "Max and Jamie. What in the world are they doing together?"

  Deedee wrinkled her brow in thought. "Oh, I wish I wouldn't do that," she whined. "One day I'm going to frown, and the wrinkles are going to permanently lock into place." She smoothed her forehead as though checking to make sure they were gone. "Max is sort of her business partner," she finally said.

  Frankie just looked at her. "Why didn't I know that?"

  "Sweetie, I try not to bother you with every little thing. You know Jamie's had financial losses with her newspaper. I asked Max to help."

  Frankie's look softened. "Why am I not surprised? My little Deedee, who always wants to make things easier for people. What I don't understand is why he would bring her here at this hour."

  "I hope he's not planning to nail her. I hope I didn't screw up by asking him to help her."

  "Your intentions were good." Frankie climbed from the bed, shivering from the cold. He reached for his terrycloth bathrobe. Deedee, wearing a tight-fitting gossamer teddy, got up as well.

  "Go back to bed, kitten," Frankie said, his warm breath creating a vapor in the cold air as he spoke. "I'll take care of it."

  "I can't just lie here. Something must be wrong for them to show up here in the middle of the night." Deedee checked her reflection in the mirror over the vanity. "Eeyeuuw, my hair looks terrible. I should wake Beenie."

  "Let him sleep, honey. Your hair looks fine. Besides, Beenie will pitch a tantrum and throw all your hairbrushes in the toilet like he did last time he got angry."

  Deedee slipped on her own bathrobe. "I know he's temperamental, but it's part of his creative nature."

  Frankie shrugged and opened the door, letting her pass through first. "If you're happy with him, that's all that matters. We can afford to buy hairbrushes."

  The housekeeper was in the process of making coffee and preparing sandwiches for Max and Jamie when Frankie and Deedee joined them. Deedee took one look at Jamie's bandaged leg.

  "Oh, no!" she cried. "What happened to you?

  "It's just a small cut," Jamie said. "I'm more annoyed than anything."

  "There was a shooting at the newspaper office," Max said. "Just some drunk with a gun, no doubt. The glass from Jamie's window shattered, and a piece of it hit her leg. The paramedic put a couple of butterfly stitches on it, no big deal."

  Deedee's hand flew to her breasts. "You could have been killed!"

  Jamie knew Max was trying to play it down so as not to frighten Deedee. Frankie was hell-bent on protecting her. There was no way they could pretend it hadn't happened because the local TV station would broadcast news like that for the next six months. Deedee would find out eventually. "Yeah, I figure it was probably a redneck with his grandpa's deer rifle trying to show off. Or maybe the quilting club."

  "You called the police, right?" Frankie said.

  Max nodded. "They're investigating now. I brought Jamie here because I wanted to make sure her leg was okay."

  Jamie nodded. "In case it starts bleeding," she said. "I don't have any Band-Aids at home, and all the stores are closed."

  "That was a good idea," Deedee said, taking Jamie's hand in hers. "I know all about first aid. I took a course. And you don't have to worry about a thing because we'll take good care of you. This place is crawling with security." Deedee looked adoringly at her husband, then at Max. "And we have two big strong men in the house."

  The housekeeper set a plate of sandwiches in front of Max and Jamie. "Would anyone like coffee?"

  All four nodded.

  "So you think the shooting was random," Frankie said.

  "I can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt either of us," Max replied, his eyes making contact with Frankie. The two exchanged silent messages. Frankie seemed to get it, but remained poker-faced.

  "That has to be it," Deedee said. "We read about this sort of thing all the time. I can't believe we have so many psychos running loose."

  Jamie took a bite of her sandwich. She was not the least bit hungry, but she was trying her best to act calm. "Great chicken salad," she told the housekeeper. "You must've known Max and I were starving to death." The woman smiled at her.

  Jamie looked from Frankie to Deedee. "My managing editor's mother was sent to the ER today. Max was kind enough to help me get the newspaper out on time."

  "Besides," Deedee continued as though she weren't listening to the conversation. "Why would anyone try to hurt Jamie?"

  Jamie shrugged. "The only person who dislikes me right now is Vera. I can't afford to give her a raise."

  "Sweetheart, why don't you go back to bed?" Frankie suggested to his wife. "I'll make sure Max and Jamie get settled in."

  "Frankie's right," Max said. "You look exhausted."

  Deedee glanced around the table. "Why is everyone trying to get rid of me?" When they didn't respond right away, she looked suspicious. "Something's going on, isn't it? Something none of you want me to find out about. What is it?" She didn't wait for anyone to answer. "This has something to do with Frankie's campaign, doesn't it? Oh, Lord, I knew it."

  "I certainly don't see a connection," Max said.

  "Oh, yeah? First we get threatening letters, now someone is trying to kill you and Jamie. Why are you keeping it from me?"

  "Now, honey." Frankie reached for her hand and squeezed it. "One has nothing to do with the other."

  "You're getting upset over nothing, big sister," Max said. "Jamie and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

  "Max is right," Jamie said. "We were working in my office, which overlooks Main Street. We were easy targets."

  "Lamar will find the person responsible," Frankie said.

  Dee
dee didn't look convinced. "Well, I don't think Jamie should go back to work until they find this person. What if he returns?"

  Jamie shook her head. "I'm not the least bit worried. Vera keeps a gun with her at all times, and she's mean enough to use it."

  "You're shivering, Jamie," Max said.

  "Oh, my," Deedee said. "She's probably in shock, poor thing."

  Jamie knew Deedee kept the air-conditioning just above freezing because of her hot flashes, but she wasn't about to bring it up, knowing how sensitive her friend was on the subject. She had never been so damn cold in her life. She would have wrestled a bear for his hide right now. "I'm fine," she insisted.

  "Honey, let me take you upstairs and tuck you into bed," Deedee offered. "You can sleep as late as you want."

  Frankie waited until he and Max were alone before he spoke. "Thank you."

  "Don't mention it," Max said.

  The big man settled back in his chair. "Now tell me what really happened."

  Max waited until the housekeeper refilled their coffee cups and went off to bed. "Do you know anyone besides the mayor who doesn't want you to win?"

  "Could be a bunch of his cronies don't want to lose their jobs. They got this good-old-boy system. The people running this town are all either related by blood or marriage. Maybe they're hoping to scare me off."

  "The person responsible for the shooting was trying to do more than scare someone off, Frankie. We're talking attempted murder here." Max described the type of gun that had been used.

  "Don't tell Deedee," Frankie said.

  "I know how protective you are where my sister's concerned," Max said, "but she's bound to find out sooner or later, and she's not going to appreciate your keeping it from her." He chuckled. "It would be just like her to insist on taking shooting lessons."

  "That's what I'm afraid of."

  Max grinned. "She's still a handful. Anyway, in the meantime, I'll help you look into it, if you like. Truth is, it smells like rotten money, and I think the fact that you threatened to investigate the missing tax dollars stirred up a hornet's nest. If someone is willing to kill over it, you can bet it's serious."