Janet Evanovich - Full Bloom

"Absolutely no pictures," Jamie said, "and that's final." She looked at Mike. "You can continue to write the stories, but as we discussed, I have full editorial control."

He nodded.

Max nudged Jamie. "I need to touch base with Muffin. I'll be back before they escort Annie next door."

"Good. She's going to need all the support she can get."

Max hurried to his car and climbed in. "Muffin, are you there?"

"No, I'm sipping a rum and Coke in Tahiti," replied a voice that Max had programmed to sound like Marilyn Monroe. Muffin was Max's high-powered voice-recognition computer that ran his business empire and personal life from the dashboard of his car. Muffin had attitude.

"I need you to run a check," he said.

"Who's the lucky person?"

Max didn't hesitate. "I want everything you can get me on a guy named Wes Bridges."

* * * * *

"Don't make me angry, Lamar," Jamie said. "You owe Max and me."

"I'd listen to her," Vera said. "She's on a diet."

Lamar sighed. "Let me get this straight. You want me to allow a murder suspect to attend her arraignment without handcuffs. What if she tries to escape?"

"Oh brother!" Jamie said.

Vera patted her handbag. "I've got my.38. I'll shoot her in the kneecaps."

Lamar gaped.

"Vera's kidding," Jamie said.

"And we want her taken out through the back way," Max said.

When Lamar hesitated, Vera gave a grunt. "Lamar wants to get his face on TV," she said.

Lamar was prevented from answering when a white stretch limo stopped in front of the building. A moment later, the driver opened the back door and a blond middle-aged man climbed out. He wore a white tennis outfit that showed off his tanned, well-toned body. Reporters immediately surrounded him, but he merely shook his head and made his way toward the front doors of the police station.

"Holy smokes, it's Cal Nunamaker!" Lamar said. He looked at Max. "How in the world did you manage that?"

"I asked politely."

The man pushed through the glass doors of the police station and perused the group with sharp blue eyes. Max stepped forward, shook his hand, and made introductions. "Thanks for agreeing to take the case on such short notice, Cal."

Nunamaker smiled. "I came straight from the tennis court. Nice airplane you got there, Max. How did you know my favorite dish was lobster thermidor?"

"Just a wild guess."

Nunamaker looked at Lamar. "Nice to see you again, Chief Travis."

"It's Tevis," Lamar said, blushing.

Nunamaker checked his watch. "I want to see every piece of paper you have on my client. And don't tell me you've put her in a cell, because that's going to ruin my day."

Lamar cleared his throat. "We've got her in our nicest interrogation room. Matter of fact, we recently had it painted."

"And another thing," Nunamaker said, as though he wasn't listening. "I expect her to be dressed nicely at the arraignment. No jailhouse clothes or handcuffs, you got that?"

"I'm on it." Lamar hurried away.

"So what do you think?" Max said.

Nunamaker shrugged. "From what you said over the phone, all the evidence is circumstantial. There's no confession, no witness, no weapon. Hell, there's not even a body," he added with a wide grin.

"All they've got is probable cause," Nunamaker went on, "but that's all they need to arrest somebody. I called the DA from the plane. He was ready to charge Mrs. Fortenberry with premeditated murder, if you can believe it, but I threatened to make his life miserable, so he changed his mind."

Jamie gasped, suspecting that wouldn't bode well for Annie. "Can you get away with something like that?"

The man grinned. "Ordinarily he'd probably report me to the bar, but we're good tennis buddies, and he wants me to put in a good word for him at the Hilton Head Country Club so they'll offer him a membership. They don't let just anyone in. Do you play tennis, Max? You look awfully fit."

"Not as much as I used to. Do you think the judge will let her out on bail?"

"Normally he wouldn't, but he and I are tight."

"Is he a tennis buddy as well?" Jamie asked.

"No, he's my brother-in-law. I'll still have to argue the point, mostly so I get good press, but I don't foresee a problem. I should warn you, though: the bail is going to be high. Otherwise folks might think he's showing favoritism."

"No problem," Max said. "As long as he'll take a check."

"Hell, you're Max Holt. He'll take an IOU on a gum wrapper. Seriously, you and I should get together and hit a few balls sometime."

Lamar returned with a file folder in his hands, a female officer beside him. "The defendant is changing clothes," he said, handing Nunamaker the folder. "My officer will escort you back in a few minutes."

"You're a good man, Tavis."

* * * * *

Annie paced the room and watched the clock. Only thirty minutes left before she would have to face a judge who would probably throw her in the slammer until she was old enough to use a walker. She wouldn't be able to help Max and Jamie with their wedding. She had let them down, and she had shed more tears over that than she had over being arrested.

She jumped when someone tapped on the door.

The female officer who'd been so kind to her opened the door. "Your lawyer is here, Mrs. Fortenberry."

Annie blinked. "Lawyer?"

A man in a tennis outfit stepped into the room. "Mrs. Fortenberry, at last we meet, and I must say you're about the prettiest little thing I've ever seen. I'm Cal Nunamaker, your attorney. You can call me Cal. May I call you Annie?"

She nodded dumbly. "Did the court appoint you?"

"Oh no. A friend of yours, Max Holt, hired me. I promise I'll get you out of here lickety-split. Do you have any questions?"

"You're saying I won't go to jail?"

"Absolutely not. In fact, you'll be home in time for supper."

Annie couldn't hide her astonishment. "But I've been charged with murder."

He smiled kindly. "We both know you didn't kill your husband."

"I've never killed anyone in my life."

"So I want you to wipe that worried look from your face and give me a big smile."

Annie just looked at him.

"You're not smiling," he said.

She forced herself to smile.

"That's much better. Now, you just sit tight for a few minutes, and I'll be waiting outside to walk you next door to the courthouse."

Annie nodded as the officer let him out. The woman turned and gave Annie a thumbs-up before she closed the door.

* * * * *

"I have never been so humiliated in my life," Annie hissed to Jamie when they exited the courthouse more than an hour later. Annie blinked several times when she saw the crowd that had doubled in size during her brief arraignment, where she had actually been charged with murder and given a court date. Several news vans waited out front, men and women stood on the steps holding microphones, and they raced toward Annie as soon as they caught sight of her. "Oh no," she said.

"Trust me, we want the publicity," Nunamaker whispered. "I'll handle everything." He stepped forward as microphones were thrust at him. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure all of you know me, but for the record, I'm Cal Nunamaker, and I'm representing Mrs. Annie Fortenberry. I am only going to comment briefly on the case, and if you're nice I'll take a few questions." He gave them a movie-star smile.

"Mrs. Fortenberry is absolutely and unequivocally not guilty of the preposterous murder charge that has been brought against her by a police force that is either too stupid or too lazy to perform a real investigation." He paused to catch his breath. "Once this silly matter is behind us I plan to take measures to see that reparations are made."

"Are you saying you plan to sue?" one of the reporters asked.

"I'm planning something more formidable," he said. "My client is an honorable, law-abiding citizen, and I refuse to allow her name to be tarnished by frivolous charges that can't be backed up with solid proof."