Janet Evanovich - Full Speed

"What the hell?" Max said.

Jamie hit the brake and turned around in her seat. Fleas's teeth were bared. He clawed the glass as though trying to get at Max. "Oh, damn, I forgot. He hates country-western music." She turned off the radio.

Max stared, open-mouthed.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Sit!" she ordered the dog.

Fleas paced for a moment, then sank onto the bed of the truck. Jamie turned and caught Max's astonished look. "He hates country-western music," she repeated.

"I'll try to keep that in mind. Turn right once you pull out of the parking lot."

Jamie did as she was told. The truck bounced along the pockmarked road.

"Where are you staying?" Max asked.

"I found a motel in town."

Max looked surprised. "In Sweet Pea? Dave said there were only two places. One is being repainted, and the other one is a dump."

Jamie offered him a grim look. "That means Dave and I are staying at the same place."

"No, he's staying in Knoxville. I offered him the spare room at my place, but the mattresses and pillows are stuffed with feathers. Dave has allergies. You're welcome to use the spare room, Jamie."

"No, thanks."

"It would be easier if we worked together. We could share information. I have a complete printout on Rawlins, the kind of information you can't get anywhere else."

Jamie looked at him. "I'm not going to ask how many laws you broke getting it. What kind of information?"

"I'll let you look through it if you like."

Oh, he was a cool one, Jamie thought. "I can find out what I need on my own."

"Whatever you say, Swifty."

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"It suits you." His voice dropped. "Especially now that you've got all that curly red hair. And I'll have to admit that skirt does your legs justice."

"Don't start, Max." Nevertheless, her stomach did a quick flip-flop at the thought.

"You're one of those women who look good in everything," he said. "I'll bet you look even better in nothing."

"I should have made you ride in the back with the dog."

Max merely smiled.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. Jamie wondered what kind of information Max had. It would make her job easier if she knew exactly what she was up against, but that would mean playing ball with him again, and that's the last thing she wanted to do. Max Holt played fast and loose, took way too many chances. If that weren't stressful enough, he seemed to have trouble with the word no.

Yes sir, she was better off on her own.

"What did you think of Rawlins's sermon tonight?" Max asked after a minute.

"He certainly has stage presence."

"He has to be good in order to steal all that money. Those poor people are so desperate they'll believe anything."

"People need hope. Harlan gives it to them."

"You're not falling for any of that holy baloney, are you?"

"Of course not. I'm just telling you why he's able to get away with all that he does."

"I saw the way you were staring at him. Don't forget what he tried to do to us."

"If I was staring, it was because I was trying to get a fix on him. I have to be objective here. We don't know that he was responsible for ordering the hit, and we don't know that he's scamming people. All we have are suspicions."

"Trust me, he's as greedy as the people he does business with."

"Nevertheless, he is helping the community. Oh, I'm sure he's skimming money, but some of it is actually going to a fine cause. Did you take a good look at the people in that church, Max? They live in poverty." She looked at him. "I don't expect you to understand what being poor is like." Not that she'd actually been poor, but she had certainly lived on the fringes from time to time.

"I've seen poverty, Jamie. I've seen much worse than this. And I've tried to help people."

Jamie stared straight ahead. She knew he spoke the truth. Max Holt might be an egomaniac and the world's worst womanizer, but one only had to pick up a newspaper to see that he did more than his share of giving. He pumped millions into various research facilities and children's hospitals, and he'd started a watchdog program that badgered companies that refused to spend the kind of money necessary to control pollution.

"I know you do your share, Max. I don't mean to sound like I'm picking on you; I just despise seeing people taken advantage of. Especially when they have nothing to begin with," she added. "I don't know how Rawlins lives with himself, and I don't know how he continues to get away with it."

"I can show you when we get to my place."

"How much farther?"

"It's only a few more miles. You're not really going back to that motel, are you?"

"I've already rented the room."

"Did you leave your things there?"

Jamie hated to tell him she'd been afraid to leave her stuff behind for fear someone would break in and steal it. "No, everything I have is in bags behind the seat."

"Would you reconsider staying at my place if I told you there were no strings attached? And that I'm willing to share what I have regardless of whether you agree to work with me or not?"

"Why would you do that?"

"I keep telling you, I'm a nice guy."

Jamie raised an eyebrow. "And I'm your ticket to get to Harlan?"

"I'll have to admit you look pretty good in that outfit. I keep hoping you'll fall out of that top. And, yes, I think Rawlins noticed."

"Darn right he noticed. As a matter of fact, I'm meeting with him tomorrow to work on my, um, problem."

"No kidding? What's he going to do, ask the good Lord to send down a lightning bolt when you try to enter a shopping center?"

"Not exactly."

Max looked at her. "You're blushing, Jamie. What's up? I can tell when you're keeping something from me."

She would have to tell him the truth sooner or later. "Max, what I told the congregation and what I told Rawlins were two different things."

"I'm listening."

"I had to say something that would get his attention."

"I'm still listening."

"I told him I was a sex addict."

"You did what!"

"It was the only way. How else do you think I managed to get a personal invitation to his home for private counseling?"

Max did not look happy. "Let me get this straight. You're going to Harlan Rawlins's home without backup, knowing full well that he's somehow involved with the mob? Not only that, we already know he has a weakness for women, and you've told him you're a sex addict. Great idea, Jamie. Why don't you throw a little meat to a lion while you're at it? Dammit!"

"I wouldn't go if I weren't convinced it was safe. I'm sure he has plenty of staff on hand, not to mention his family."

"You don't know what you're up against. By now Harlan and his mob pals know the man they hired to take me out is dead. The fact that the hit man, Vito Puccini, didn't get the job done will make them even more determined to succeed. They may have already hired someone else to take me out. They could be searching for me at this very moment."

Jamie remained silent.

"The bottom line is we need to work together on this for both of our sakes," Max said. "So what's it going to take to convince you?"

Jamie knew he had a point, but she wasn't going to give in that easy.

"First, admit that my plan could work."

Max glanced over at her. "I'm not saying it's a bad plan; I'm saying you need backup. You really need to see what I have on Rawlins. Then you'll understand why I feel the way I do."

"OK, I'll see what you've got."

"Take a right at the next road and drive until you see the cabin. There aren't any other houses nearby."

Jamie turned down a dirt road where No Trespassing signs made it plain visitors weren't welcome. A minute later, she pulled into a driveway beside a rough-hewn log cabin. She looked around. "Where are the security cameras?"