Janet Evanovich - Full Scoop

* * * * *

In the kitchen, Zack tried to explain his position. "I didn't feel it was a good time to discuss my stepfather with you."

"That makes me feel pretty dumb since I shared everything with you." Maggie suddenly felt very sad, and it showed on her face. "But then, you already knew my secrets when you signed on for this job." Maggie marched to her bedroom, picked up her phone and dialed the number she'd left on her bedside table. She suspected McKelvey was en route to Savannah, but she could leave him a message. She was surprised when he picked up.

"Bad news," he said. "The plane has been delayed due to some kind of problem with the electrical system. I may have to take a flight into Charlotte, North Carolina, and fly to Savannah from there. I'm so sorry."

"I understand," Maggie said.

* * * * *

Maggie stepped out on the front porch a few minutes later. Max and Jamie shared the porch swing; Queenie sat nearby in an old rocking chair, one foot pushing it back and forth as though she were priming it to shoot right off the porch. They were quiet.

Maggie put her hands on the porch rail and leaned forward. She closed her eyes and sucked in fresh air. "Sorry 'bout that, guys," she said.

Max grinned. "I'll go in and stitch his wounds." He went inside, leaving the women on the porch. Jamie's phone rang. She grabbed it from her purse and answered it. "Hello, Vera. Yes, we watched CNN. Saw the whole thing." She paused and listened. "You're not serious!" Jamie shook her head. "I'll explain it when I see you."

"What was all that about?" Maggie asked.

"Destiny is in love, might not be coming back. Abby Bradley has already applied for a job as a gossip columnist to fill Destiny's place."

All three women just shook their heads, and Maggie was reminded that no matter how badly somebody was hurting, life went on around them.

She looked out onto the quiet street of her neighborhood. "I've always felt safe here," she said. "Even as a little girl." She knew the bus would have been by already, but she didn't see any of the neighborhood kids playing. She wondered if parents were keeping them inside because of Carl Lee Stanton.

She glanced across the street at Ben and Lydia's house and was surprised to see the drapes closed and the morning newspaper still in their yard. "I don't like the looks of that," she said.

Queenie followed her gaze. "Ben and Lydia's place? They must be out of town."

"Ben's not well," Maggie said. "I can't imagine Lydia taking off or putting him in the hospital without telling me. And I can't believe she hasn't called to see how I am. The police knocked on everybody's door this morning. She has to know. Something strange is going on over there. I'm very worried, but Lydia doesn't want me to interfere."

"That doesn't sound like Lydia," Queenie said. "She and Ben are like family."

Maggie nodded sadly. "They're like a second set of grandparents to Mel," she told Jamie. "When their little granddaughter visits, Mel acts like the big sister, and when Lydia wanted to decorate the small guest room for the girl, Mel and I pitched in. We decorated the room in Barbie. Everything is Barbie, right down to the drapes, sheets and bedspread, and rugs."

"The bedspread?" Jamie asked.

"Yes. Barbie faces all over it."

Jamie felt a chill run through her as she stared at the cloaked windows and thought about what Maggie had just said. She looked at Maggie. "I know where Mel is!"

* * * * *

"It's too dangerous," Zack said.

"It's my choice," Maggie told him. "I have no idea what my daughter is going through over there, I don't know if she's hurt, I don't even know if she's alive. Bob and Lydia could be dead. I'll do it with or without your help."

"I'll need time to get things in place," he said sharply.

"I suggest you move quickly."

* * * * *

"There is no phone service going into that house," Max said, "and Southland Phone Company can't find a problem, which means—"

"Stanton cut the phone lines," Zack finished for him, as Maggie grabbed her address book, searching frantically for Lydia's cell phone number.

"I've got it." She picked up her telephone and dialed.

* * * * *

Lydia had just come downstairs with the tray when her cell phone rang. Carl Lee had guarded it carefully by putting it in his pocket. "Only a few people have my cell number," Lydia said.

Carl Lee pulled it from the pocket of his jeans and read the number on the caller ID. "How interesting," he said, his words slurred. "Maggie Davenport." He pointed his gun and handed Lydia the phone. "One wrong word and you're dead."

Lydia pressed the button. "Hello, Maggie," she said, her voice surprisingly calm. She put her hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Carl Lee. "It's for you."

* * * * *

The seconds ticked by slowly as Maggie waited and wondered if Carl Lee would answer. Her heart pounded so loudly that she feared she wouldn't be able to hear him. She didn't seem to be getting enough air; she felt as though she were living the nightmare all over again, locked in the trunk of his car. Finally, he spoke, and Maggie steeled herself. Her anger was enough.

"You have my daughter." Her tone was cold. "I want her back. Now."

Silence. "Why would I do that, Maggie?" he finally asked. "The longer you feel pain, the better I feel."

She could tell he had been drinking, and she didn't know if that was good or bad. "If you want revenge, take it out on me. She doesn't deserve it."

"I didn't deserve what you did to me," he shouted. "I've spent fourteen years thinking about it and wanting to kill you, but that's too easy. There are worse things than death, Maggie. Don't you agree?"

Maggie felt as if she were going to be sick. Her jaw muscles ached; she tried to swallow back the urge to throw up. She weighed her options.

"She's your daughter."

"You're a lying bitch."

"Look at her closely, Carl Lee. Then tell me you don't see her resemblance to Kathleen. It's too obvious to miss."

"But here's the thing, Maggie. I don't care if she's my kid or not, you got it? I don't care."

"I can get you out of here alive," Maggie said. "Otherwise you don't stand a chance." Max grabbed the notepad she kept by the phone and scribbled on it. "I will go with you," she added. "I'll be your damn hostage! I'll do anything."

"I love it when you beg, Maggie."

Max shoved the slip of paper in front of her. She read it quickly. "I have a friend here, Carl Lee. His name is Max Holt. He has a special car that we can use. It's bulletproof."

Carl Lee laughed.

"Ask Lydia and Ben about him," Maggie said.

"I'm done talking, Maggie. You send one cop to this door, I'll shoot him on the spot, and I won't stop shooting until everybody in this house is dead, you got that?"

Maggie jumped at the loud click in her ear. She looked up at the anxious group waiting to hear. "He doesn't care," she said, as her stomach lurched. She covered her mouth and ran to the hall bathroom.

* * * * *

Carl Lee shoved the cell phone into his pocket and pointed his gun at Lydia. Her eyes were sunken from fatigue. "What do you know about a guy named Max Holt and his wonder car?"

Lydia recounted everything she'd heard about Max.

"Upstairs," Carl Lee said. "And don't give me any trouble. Everybody knows I'm here so gunshots no longer matter."

Lydia hesitated. "I heard what you said on the phone. You can't kill your own daughter."

"Really?" He looked amused. "I sat in a courtroom fourteen years ago and listened as a psychiatrist testified that I had no conscience. I think he may have been right."

Upstairs, Mel flinched as Carl Lee yanked the tape from her mouth. He grabbed her jaw, turned her face toward him. "Well, now, aren't you something?" he said, his tone mocking. "Your mother is right. You look just like my sister. I don't know how I missed that." He pulled his hand away.