Janet Evanovich - Full Scoop

"Damn, Maggie, what did you do, shoot her favorite dog?"

"I kept the truth from her, Zack, and the truth is Carl Lee Stanton is Mel's father." Maggie was afraid to look at him and see the disgust on his face. Instead, he put his arm around her and pulled her against him.

"I know, babe."

Maggie jerked back and stared at him. His expression was relaxed, laid-back. "You know?" she said. "How do you know?"

"There's no marriage license or certificate of marriage to back up your marriage claims, Maggie. There's no certificate of death on your so-called late husband, and no record anywhere of a man named Tom Davenport dying in a car accident around the time it supposedly happened. Not even for the entire year," he added. "I did find records where you had your last name legally changed to Davenport, your great-grandmother's maiden name." He shrugged. "Other than that, all you have are newspaper clippings provided by Jamie and her father. Which I thought was pretty clever, by the way."

"You left no stone unturned, as they say, when you checked me out. Is there anything you don't know about me?"

He gave her a lazy smile. "Oh, yeah."

"Don't you think you went overboard, Zack? This isn't about me; this is about Carl Lee Stanton. Unless you were just curious to know what kind of girl would fall for a cold-blooded killer," she added, feeling a little hurt and put off.

"Yes. And I apologize for that."

"But why did that matter? You came here to protect Mel and me. Did you feel I deserved less protection because I was his ex-girlfriend?"

"Of course not! That's a crazy thing to ask." He shrugged. "I guess I wondered why your parents practically moved you out in the dead of night and why Queenie packed up and went with you."

"I was sick a lot during the first few months of my pregnancy, that's why. Queenie's children were grown and had moved away so she decided to help me with the baby while I went to college and med school. But why does that matter?"

"I guess I wondered why Stanton picked this particular time to escape," he said. "Was it a simple case of opportunity? It wasn't that long ago that another prisoner managed to escape using a similar method; only he got caught on the run. Or was it the newspaper clippings that reminded him of how much he hated you? Or the young girl in those clippings who bore a strong resemblance to him?" Zack added.

"But you said there was no mention of that in Carl Lee's psychiatric notes. Carl Lee would have said something."

"I wasn't impressed with McKelvey's file on Stanton if you want to know the truth. He treated Stanton for three years, which is how long McKelvey has been with the prison system. The weekly visits were dated, but there were few entries."

"Then we don't know if Carl Lee suspects Mel is his daughter or not," Maggie said, her body tensing all over. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I wanted to do more checking after McKelvey called here. He has had some problems."

"What kinds of problems?"

Zack hesitated. "He drinks. It cost him his family and his private practice. One or two patients filed complaints. Do you really want to worry about his troubles when you have enough of your own?"

They were quiet for a moment. Maggie thought about the call she'd received from McKelvey earlier, and she suspected he had not contacted the police and wouldn't. She hoped he was getting help for his problems because she sensed he was genuinely concerned that Carl Lee might kill someone if he had no one to reach out to. Surely it was a good thing; police trying to catch Carl Lee and McKelvey trying to reel him in.

"Maggie?"

She looked up, startled.

He grinned. "We're going to look back on this one day and laugh."

She laughed just hearing him say it. "Madden, you need help, you know that?"

"You're about thirty-six years too late, pretty lady." He pulled her back into his arms, cupped the back of her head and fit it in the hollow between his shoulder and neck.

"You laugh and joke because it helps you deal with the hard things you see in your job," she said softly.

"It was either that or get drunk a lot." He stroked her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead. He kissed her eyelids. "Maggie," he said, her name slipping between his lips on a sigh.

Maggie liked hearing her name whispered from his lips. Being in his arms wasn't bad either. "Zack?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this, um, part of your job?"

"Uh-huh. How'm I doing?"

She looked up, and their gazes met briefly before he lowered his head. The kiss was slow and lingering. It reached down deep and awakened her tired muscles and weary nerve endings and even her organs; although she would have thought it medically impossible for a kiss to send her liver aquiver.

His tongue explored her mouth, his hand caressed her breast, and she felt the first wave of arousal. She kissed him back. She kissed him with meaning. She kissed him until her lips were numb. Warm stuff flowed through her body and met low in her belly as he stroked her with one hand.

She touched him back, and he moaned and reached beneath her blouse. Found her nipple; rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger.

He began unbuttoning her blouse. "Not here," she whispered no louder than a thought.

"Where then?" he asked.

"Upstairs." They stood, and she linked his hand in hers. "I'll lead the way. I know this house like the back of my hand." She started forward and immediately stubbed her toe on the leg of an armchair. She tripped and fell against it, and the chair scooted several inches, shoving the table beside it. The furniture scraped the wood floor; and the noise sounded as loud as a squawking parrot in the still house. Zack caught the lamp before it hit the floor.

They came to a dead stop; waited and listened. No sound from Mel's room.

Finally, Maggie gave his hand a gentle tug. "Watch out for the chair," she whispered. They moved to the stairs. "The fifth step creaks," she warned.

"Is it the fifth step going up or the fifth step coming down?"

She shushed him, and they climbed the stairs slowly, using the night-light to guide them. In the guest room they undressed each other in the almost non-existent glow of yet another night-light. Maggie was thankful for Zack's no-lights rule since she hadn't gotten naked in front of a man in longer than she would admit even to her reflection in the mirror.

Zack pulled the covers aside on the bed, and they sank onto it, hands and mouths searching. Fingers roamed intimately, skin touched skin. Bodies ached.

Maggie guided him inside her, and the pleasure was so incredible and intense that she felt her eyes cross. Every touch, every kiss, every movement was beautiful and sensuous and golden.

And then everything changed and became sexier and pulse-pounding. Kisses turned hot. Anticipation turned to urgency.

Ecstasy in its purest form.

Maggie exhaled a long sigh of contentment as they lay side by side. She had a smile on her face and a song in her heart. She felt sexy and desirable and feminine. She felt like buying a thong.

Propped on one elbow, Zack gazed down at Maggie's seductive body and wanted her all over again. He noted her soft smile and smooth forehead, no longer creased with worry lines. She had one leg draped over his. "Another satisfied customer," he said proudly.

Maggie punched him.

"So what do you think, Dr. D.?"

Maggie stretched and gave his body an appreciative look. "I think all of my five senses like you. And I think I was an idiot to give up sex." She yawned. She felt warm, her arms and legs weighted and relaxed. "Well, I didn't really give it up," she corrected. "I just—" She looked thoughtful. "Refused to settle," she said.