Janet Evanovich - Full Scoop

"What does she plan to do with it?"

"She uses the eggs in various ways, depending on what kind of magic she's trying to work. We're better off not knowing."

Jamie nodded toward the bed. "I hear you're on a laundry-folding marathon. You doctors really do lead glamorous lives."

"Yeah, ain't it grand?"

Jamie hesitated. "Um, just so you know; I had nothing to do with what was written about you in the article. As owner of the paper, I take all responsibility, and I—"

"Let's just forget about it," Maggie said. "Besides, it's old news. Abby Bradley has already told everybody. But if you're really feeling guilty you can match these socks for me." She nodded toward the stack.

"I hate matching socks." Jamie kicked off her shoes, climbed onto the bed, and pulled the mound toward her. "Yuk."

Maggie grinned and produced a pillowcase from beneath a pile of sheets. She reached deep inside and pulled out two Tootsie Rolls. "Chocolate?" she offered.

"That's a pretty unique hiding place," Jamie said, taking the candy. She and Maggie wasted no time unwrapping their goodies. "Now, fill me in on the good-looking FBI guy."

Maggie shrugged. "I don't know much about him other than he seems good at his job, and I feel safer having him here." She bit into her Tootsie Roll.

"Wife? Children?" Jamie asked.

"He said his job isn't conducive to family life. I know I wouldn't want to be married to a man who spent most of his time away from home. Plus, I'm sure undercover work is dangerous." She paused. "Speaking of family, how is the baby-making business?"

Jamie shrugged. "Nothing to report."

Maggie could hear the disappointment in her voice. "You know, Queenie claims she has a surefire fertility recipe," she said.

"Really?" Jamie looked up.

"It's so simple anyone can do it. All you need is a rosebush," she added. "You can only use red roses though. They signify desire." She knew Max and Jamie had rosebushes at their new house.

Jamie looked eager.

"You dig up the rosebush at dawn while the petals are still dewy. Before you cover the hole, you drop a shiny new penny inside. Then, you pluck all the petals from the roses. You don't have to measure them out or anything, but you drop half the petals in your bathwater with your favorite bath salts, and you sprinkle the other half on your sheets at bedtime."

"And it's supposed to make people fertile?" Jamie asked.

"That's what I hear."

"Gee, I hope I don't have quintuplets."

"That's fairly rare." Maggie folded one of Mel's T-shirts and smoothed her hand across it like an iron, to get the wrinkles out. "Which is a good thing because you don't want to have five thirteen-year-olds," she said.

Jamie was quiet for a moment, committing the recipe to memory. She looked up, noted the worry lines on Maggie's brow. "I hate seeing you like this."

"Yeah, it's a little tense around here these days." She tried to smile but failed.

Jamie studied her. "What is it you're not telling me?" When Maggie looked surprised, Jamie arched one brow. "You think I don't know you by now? I can tell when you're hiding something. Give it to me, Davenport. Don't make me wait to hear it from Abby Bradley."

"I got a call this morning from the psychiatrist at Texas Federal Prison." She told Jamie about her conversation with McKelvey. "The fact that he would put ethics aside in order to warn me is pretty scary. Carl Lee has newspaper clippings. Mel's picture has been in the paper twice since I returned. The picture you took of the two of us sitting on the trunk and—"

"The art show last year," Jamie said, remembering the close-up she had taken of Mel holding the blue ribbon for the sketches she had been so hesitant to share.

"I'm afraid Carl Lee might have figured out the truth. If he hasn't, his mother probably has. Mel and I ran into her at Wal-Mart six or eight months ago so I know the woman got a good look at her. What if she sent the clippings?"

"Did the psychiatrist mention anything?"

"No. But Zack has seen the file. Carl Lee knows I have a daughter. What if—"

"Okay, time out," Jamie said. "I would think if Carl Lee knows, it would be in the file and Zack would have said something. Don't go borrowing trouble, as Vera would say."

Maggie stood and walked to the closet where she pulled a large hardbound book from the top shelf. "This was in my grandmother's old trunk, along with a ton of other stuff, including incriminating material like love letters and notes from my friends, teen magazines and sexy paperbacks that my parents would never have approved of," she added. "The trunk was in the barn crammed inside a stall with my grandparents' other antiques so it was a good place to hide things." She held up the book. "Remember this?"

Jamie groaned. "Why would you keep our middle school yearbook? Do you remember how crummy our hairstyles were back then?"

Maggie didn't answer. She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. "I'll bet you forgot Carl Lee has a younger sister. She was two grades behind us."

"I don't remember her," Jamie said.

"Well, here she is." Maggie handed Jamie the book and pointed to one of the school photos, a thin girl with bright red-orange hair, freckles, and braces. "Meet Kathleen Francis Stanton," she announced, "who could easily be my daughter's twin."

Police Chief Lamar Tevis pulled the old pickup truck into Maggie Davenport's driveway and parked. He wore a cap adorned with several fish hooks; the words BITE ME were written just above the bill. A blue tick hound sat in the back of the truck, scratching as though his life depended on it.

Zack climbed inside the truck a few minutes later and found Tevis on his cell phone. The chief held up one finger, indicating to Zack the call would only take a minute.

"Now, listen here, Clancy," Tevis said, "I put you on alert the minute I caught wind of Carl Lee Stanton's escape, and you've been jerking me around ever since. If this is your way of getting back at me for winning the last poker game then you need to start spending your Wednesday nights at the senior citizen's bingo parlor."

Zack grinned and leaned back in the seat.

"You're not listening to me," Lamar went on. "I am spread real thin on manpower, Buddyroe, on account of this whole dang town has gone completely nuts on me, and these Elvis impersonators aren't making things any easier. I've got four of them locked in a cell right now for public drunkenness, and if I have to listen to 'Jailhouse Rock' or that hound dog song one more time I'm going to turn my dang gun on myself." He paused for air. "Now, then, I need every fireman and volunteer fireman you got, you hear?" He paused. "What do you mean, they're sitting in the lobby at the station? Since when?"

Tevis looked at Zack who shrugged.

"Well, dang, Clancy," Lamar said, taking on a sheepish tone, "you could have told me you were sending them over and saved me this phone call. Hello? Clancy, are you there?" Lamar hung up. "Well, I guess I can kiss off my free ticket to the next fireman's ball." He gave Zack a thoughtful frown. "Did you or Max have anything to do with this?"

"You underestimate your powers of persuasion," Zack said.

"Yeah, could be." He held out his hand. "Zack, it's good to finally meet you. Sorry it took me so long for a face-to-face; as you can guess, I've been preoccupied." They shook hands. Lamar gave him the once-over. "Who broke your arm and knocked you upside the head? Was it a woman? No, don't tell me, it's none of my business. And speaking of business, let's get to it because these waders are hot."

"Have you been fishing?"

"Oh, no, this is my disguise so Carl Lee Stanton won't know the police are hanging around," Lamar said. "I borrowed this truck from my cousin, and that old blue tick in the back belongs to my neighbor. This cap is mine though."