Janet Evanovich - Full Bloom

"I don't know what the hell to think, Annie. I'm having a real problem distinguishing fact from fiction."

Finally, she stood. She didn't know if she was angry or hurt at his response. "Fact," she began. "I wouldn't have spent the last few years struggling financially if I'd had that kind of money to fall back on. Fact: if I had found the money and Charles's passport and ticket, I would have immediately suspected something was wrong and gone to Lamar."

Wes looked at her, and the hard lines on his face relaxed. "I'm sorry you had a shit day, Annie, but look at the good side. You were on CNN."

As Annie watched him go in, she pictured throwing her rolling pin at him and it bouncing off the back of his head. Like she needed to be reminded that she had made CNN. The telephone hadn't stopped ringing since the story had first aired, only to be replayed every hour on the hour, as if the staff feared that one person in the town of Beaumont might miss it.

Annie had finally taken the phone off the hook after her mother called from West Palm Beach, having watched the whole sordid thing unfold after headlines announced that the remains of a South Carolina man were missing due to a carjacking. Not only had they mentioned Charles Fortenberry by name; they'd also given a brief history of the case, beginning with the unearthing of his bones. There was a goofy picture of Lamar Tevis standing at the site pointing toward a mound of dirt, followed by footage of Annie at her best, in an old chenille bathrobe, hair out to there, yelling and shaking her fists at a TV camera. The next shot showed Annie trying to duck behind

Cal Nunamaker on the courthouse steps after her arraignment.

"I just want you to know I'm here for you, Annie," Jenna Worthington had said. "I'll catch the first plane out if you need me. I'll even sleep in that godawful house if I have to."

Annie had thanked her but said it wasn't necessary. Still, the fact that she had offered to come had taken some of the sting out of being hauled off to jail that morning.

* * * * *

Annie had been hard at work since dawn, getting things ready for the rehearsal dinner and trying to sidestep Peaches, who obviously hoped something edible would come her way.

Annie looked down and shook her head. "You've already had two cans of cat food this morning. I think you have an eating disorder."

The cat meowed.

"Sorry, all I have is lettuce." Annie resumed her work. A moment later, she heard a noise, turned, and found Peaches digging in her plant.

"No!" Annie said firmly, unaware that Wes was standing at the bottom of the stairs. She hurried toward the plant and, reached for the fat ball of orange fur, but Peaches dived to the floor in the opposite direction. Annie turned so quickly she lost her footing and fell, butt-first on the plant. It toppled over and dumped potting soil on the kitchen floor. Annie sat there for a moment, muttering four-letter words under her breath as Peaches walked to the braided rug in front of the refrigerator, slumped on it, and began grooming herself.

"Problems?" Wes said.

Annie looked at him. "What makes you ask?"

He grabbed a coffee mug, filled it, and sipped in silence. Peaches got up, walked over to him, and rubbed against his leg. Wes reached down and scratched the animal lightly behind one ear, and she began to purr. Finally, he belted down the rest of his coffee, placed the empty cup in the dishwasher, and started for the door.

He paused and looked down at Annie. "Do you need help getting up?"

"Nope. I like it here."

He nodded, unlocked the door, and opened it. "Just so you know, that plant is a goner."

Annie heard him fire up his bike, and a moment later he roared away. He no longer trusted her. At this point, she wasn't even sure he liked her. And she didn't have the foggiest idea how to make things right between them. It was her own fault. She should have told Lamar everything when he'd questioned her shortly after Charles's disappearance. But she hadn't. And that was only going to make things worse.

Erdle arrived home as Annie was serving breakfast, and she and Theenie watched him stagger across the backyard and upstairs to his apartment. "I guess he fell off the wagon," Theenie said.

Annie looked at her. "You think?"

Danny pulled up in his car, climbed out, and walked toward the carriage house, opening the door on the first floor that led into the garage. He emerged a moment later with the rake. "Oh, he's going to tidy the yard for you," Theenie said. "How sweet."

Annie nodded. She would take him a cup of coffee and invite him up for breakfast. "Yeah, he's a good guy," she said. "I don't know what I'd do without him."

"Maybe it's high time you gave it serious thought," Theenie replied. "But I suspect it's too late now, since you've already got it bad for Wes."

* * * * *

Max's plane touched down on the small airstrip that afternoon. Jamie stood beside Max and Frankie as it taxied in while Dee Dee and her personal assistant, Beenie, waited in the stretch limo. Fleas, who'd insisted on following Jamie from the car, had immediately found a sunny spot on a patch of grass next to the building. He was presently sprawled on his back, eyes closed, snoring loudly.

Max glanced at the animal. "I swear I think that dog has sleep apnea."

"He snores louder than Dee Dee," Frankie said, and immediately punched his fist lightly against his forehead. "Please don't tell Dee Dee I said that."

The plane rolled to a stop, and a few minutes later Nick and Billie Kaharchek descended. Billie's children followed them: Christie, a dark-haired beauty in a smart dove gray business suit, and younger brother Joel, who had the same hair color as his sister but obviously lacked her sense of style. He wore khakis, a kelly green dress shirt, and the ugliest plaid jacket Jamie had ever seen. He was a good two inches taller than Nick and had an easy lopsided smile.

Everyone hugged and Nick and Billie praised the smooth flight while Joel extolled the awesome inflight cookie tray and Christie complained good-naturedly that she had probably put on five pounds by eating her weight in brownies.

"You two amaze me," Max told Nick and Billie. "You never age."

Billie laughed. Despite having a little age on her, she had maintained the youthfulness and zest for life that had drawn Nick to her some twenty years ago.

When Max had flown Jamie to Virginia to meet Nick and Billie, she had taken an instant liking to the handsome couple who had practically raised Max. Jamie was equally fond of Christie and Joel. She liked that Billie, was down-to-earth and unpretentious despite having married a multimillionaire.

"Where's Dee Dee?" Nick asked Frankie, who was in the process of checking Joel's muscles and planning their first arm-wrestling match.

"In the limo. She's having problems with her feet."

"I need to give her a big hug," Billie said.

"Just don't tell her she's fat," Frankie whispered to the group.

Billie smacked his arm, and they started toward the vehicle as the last piece of luggage was placed inside the trunk. "I plan to smother her with a lot of TLC while I'm here," Billie said.

Jamie glanced in Fleas' direction. He rolled over, pulled himself up, and shook, his big ears and sagging jowls flapping from side to side. He started toward them in slow gear.

"Check out that cool bloodhound," Joel said. "I think he's following us."

"He belongs to Jamie," Max said. "Although I've agreed to adopt him after we're married."

Everyone paused and waited for the dog to catch up. Christie reached down and stroked his head. "What's his name?"

It was the question Jamie always dreaded. "Fleas."

Instead of jerking her hand away like most people, Christie laughed loudly. "Poor baby," she said. "No wonder you look depressed. Who stock you with a name like that?"