Janet Evanovich - Full Scoop

"And Abby Bradley has laryngitis," Mel said.

Queenie smiled. "Now that's some good news."

"Like you didn't already know," Mel said.

Queenie crossed her arms and gave the girl her most formidable look. "Are you smart-mouthing your aunt Queenie, young lady? You know I don't put up with that nonsense."

Mel flounced from the room.

"Somebody needs to yank the attitude right out of that girl," Queenie said.

"And another thing," Maggie said, this time her voice little more than a whisper. "Did you go against my wishes and put some kind of spell on Zack and me?"

"What kind of spell?"

Maggie blushed. "Something to make us, um, attracted to each other?"

Queenie grinned. "I knew it! I knew you two were hot for each other. It's well past time you got hot for a man, and that's one hot man."

"If you did something I want it undone," Maggie said. "And don't expect me to try to protect you the next time somebody threatens to report you to the police. I'm a medical doctor. I can't go around removing hexes. I don't even know how to remove hexes, for Pete's sake!"

"First thing, you need some uncrossing oil," Queenie began.

"I don't want to know how to remove hexes," Maggie said. "I have enough to worry about. And while we're on the subject, no more boiling basil or anything else in this house," she said. "And no more making people hot for each other!" she added emphatically.

"How am I supposed to protect you and Mel from that madman if I'm not allowed to use my special talents?"

"That's why Zack is here."

"A gun may not be enough."

A tap on the back door forced Maggie to deal with the alarm system again. Everest stepped inside carrying a lime-green bag with decorative handles. "I don't think Flo likes it out there," he said.

"She's probably used to living in a four-star chicken coop," Queenie told him.

Zack came downstairs. "I heard you down here talking about your new hen," he said. "Where is she?"

Queenie opened her mouth to answer, but the words didn't come out.

"I put her out back," Everest said.

"You shaved," Queenie said. She looked at Maggie. "You didn't tell me he shaved. You are so lucky. I wish I had a crazy killer after me so the FBI would send a good-looking man to my house."

Maggie had no idea how to respond so she kept quiet. Everest handed Maggie the bag. "I forgot to bring it in earlier. I hope you won't get mad at me, but I asked my sister about a rinse for Mel's hair. She gave me the stuff she uses. It has no harsh chemicals, and it washes out after a couple of weeks. It will tone down the orange, that's all. Oh, and my sister put some makeup in there for Mel too."

"Makeup!" Maggie cried. "She's only thirteen years old, for Pete's sake."

"Well, it's not like real makeup. It's a tinted moisturizer, and it's good for the skin." When Maggie looked doubtful, he went on. "I'm telling you, I know all about women's products and how to use them. Who do you think my sister practiced on?" He looked at Zack. "I hope this won't get in the way of me being a big-time FBI agent."

"No problem," Zack said. "Diversity is good."

Mel walked into the kitchen. "Is there any chocolate cake left," she asked Maggie, "or have you already hidden it?" She saw the bag and stepped closer to her mother. "What's that?"

"Hair color," Everest said.

"For me?" He smiled and she squealed in delight. "Yes!"

"I'll color it for you if your mom agrees to let me," he said. "I'm really good at it."

"Please, Mom," Mel said.

"You're sure it will wash out?" Maggie asked Everest.

"It'll take two or three weeks of shampooing, but yes. It won't take me long to put it on her hair."

Maggie saw the eager look on Mel's face. "Okay."

Mel threw her arms around Maggie and hugged her, then exchanged a high five with Everest. "We can use the front bathroom," she told him. "It's plenty big enough."

Maggie shook her head as she opened the refrigerator and began pulling out the condiments. "I hope Everest knows what he's doing," she said.

"He's the one who gave me my perm," Queenie said.

"He'll make a fine agent," Zack said.

Maggie half listened to Queenie sing Everest's praises as she tried to unclog the tip of a squeeze bottle of mustard with a toothpick. When that didn't work, she pulled a case knife from a drawer and struggled to pry off the top.

"Do you need any help over there?" Zack asked. "Looks like that mustard container is kicking your behind."

"I can get it." Maggie gripped the plastic bottle tightly to keep it from slipping from her hands, and she tried once more to free the top. It popped, the lid flew off, and mustard spewed from the bottle and plastered her blouse. "Damn!"

Queenie looked up. "I have a remedy that will get that stain out."

Maggie rinsed the mustard off her hands and wiped her blouse with a paper towel and watched the stain spread. "Excuse me," she said, "while I slip into something less messy."

* * * * *

The phone rang as soon as Maggie stepped inside her bedroom. She closed her door and headed for it, pulling off her blouse as she went.

Dr. James McKelvey spoke from the other end. "Dr. Davenport, I thought I should call you," he said quickly. "Carl Lee Stanton has been in touch with me. Within the last hour," he added.

Maggie felt her stomach give a sudden lurch. "Where is he? What did he want?"

"The call came in on my home phone," McKelvey said. "It wasn't a lengthy conversation, and nothing on my caller ID. But the fact he called is a good sign, although I'll have to admit I never would have expected it."

"Did he say anything that might help police find him?"

"He said if I notified the police he would not call me back," McKelvey stated flatly. "I have to call them, but—" He paused and sighed. "You know it'll leak out. Hell, it'll probably be on the front page of the newspaper within a matter of hours. Carl Lee will find out, and he'll go into one of his rages, probably kill the first person who steps within firing range."

Maggie sank onto her bed. "What are you going to do?"

He gave a rueful laugh. "I need to get out of the prison system and go back to my ritzy practice and listen to rich people bitch about how much they hate their lives. As for Carl Lee, I don't know."

"Why do you think he called you?" Maggie asked.

"Hypothetically?" he asked.

"Of course."

"A man on the run? Police closing in? Feeling trapped and desperate? All of the above? And maybe searching for a voice of reason?" McKelvey added. "Having said that, I really don't have a clue," he added.

"Do you think he'll call you back? Do you think he would listen to you?"

"If he listened to anyone it would be me. I think he'll call back, but I'm not putting any money on it."

"What would you tell him?"

"I'd try to negotiate his surrender," McKelvey said, "and see that he was taken in without incident. I'd promise to be there for him. That's about all I can offer him. That doesn't mean he would agree to it and certainly not in one or two phone calls. I'm just thinking fewer people would get hurt."

"I don't know what to say," Maggie told him. "I can't tell you not to call the police."

"I need to think. I'll let you know. Oh, and we never had this conversation."

* * * * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?" Everest said from the kitchen doorway. "I would like for you to meet the new and improved Miss Melanie Davenport." He stepped aside and Mel swept into the room.

"Ta-da!" The girl struck a pose.

"Oh my God!" Queenie gaped.

Maggie, in the process of carrying the platter of food to the table, almost dropped it. Her daughter had been transformed.