Janet Evanovich - Full Speed

Jamie arched her brow. "You're installing Muffin in the dashboard of my truck?"

"Yeah. We can't use my car. Oh, and you're going to need directions to Rawlins's place."

She looked up. "Why don't I just follow you?"

"What makes you think I'm going out there?"

"Like I said, I know you. You're dressed in your Bennett Electric uniform. Are they having electrical problems this morning by chance?"

He grinned. "As a matter of fact, they are. But you won't arrive until much later." He reached for a pen and paper and began writing directions. "You'll need a key for the cabin in case you get back before I do." He reached into his pocket and placed one on the table.

Jamie had finished her donut and was staring at the remaining ones. "Is that what I think it is?" She pointed to one.

"Yep. Chocolate-covered malted cream."

"Oh, man." She stared.

Max laughed softly. "Well, are you going to eat it or what?"

"This is between me and the donut, OK? It has nothing to do with you."

* * * * *

Tall wrought-iron gates circled Harlan Rawlins's property. The main entrance boasted a guardhouse where a uniformed man met Jamie, eyeing her truck and dog skeptically.

"Does the dog bite?" he asked.

"No, that would take effort on his part," Jamie replied.

The guard almost smiled.

"I have an appointment with Reverend Rawlins."

He checked the small notebook in his hand. "You must be Jane. The reverend is expecting you." He eyed the animal in the back. "You'll need to tie the dog out front."

"He's not as dangerous as he looks," Jamie said, "and it takes an act of God to get him out of this track. Try going to a pet store for a dog and having to buy a truck as well."

The guard hesitated. "I suppose he looks harmless enough. Just make sure he stays in the truck." He pressed a button, and the gate swung open.

Jamie followed a cobblestone road that was flanked by pines, tupelo, firs, and red maple, interspersed with dogwood, mountain laurel, and rhododendron, the latter of which had already lost their blooms. She rounded a copse of tall loblolly pines and caught her breath at the sight of Rawlins's bricked English manor house, surrounded by parklike grounds and stone courtyards.

Jamie spied a track with the name Bennett Electric on it. No surprise there, Max Holt was on the job, just as she'd suspected. She was relieved, but she would be slow to admit it to him.

She parked, climbed from the truck, and stood before Fleas. "How do I look? Do I have the word easy written all over me or what?"

The dog cocked his head to the side.

"Now hear this," Jamie said, trying to sound stern. "You so much as think about following me like you did at the motel and you're not getting any more table scraps, got it?" The dog actually seemed to sigh as he slid to the floor of the truck and propped his head on his paws. Jamie stroked one floppy ear and made kissy sounds before turning toward the house.

A brick portico sheltered the front doorway. The man who met her wore dark slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a burgundy tie. He was not smiling.

"I'm Ward Reed," he said, giving her a cursory glance, followed by a look of outright disapproval. "Reverend Rawlins is waiting for you." He opened the door wide to admit her.

Jamie stepped inside a large foyer of inlaid marble and ornate columns. She followed Reed down a long hall where he paused before a door and knocked. A voice on the other side admitted them.

"Hello, Jane," Harlan said, greeting her warmly. He took her hand in his, holding it longer than was necessary. "It's good to see you again. You can leave us now," he told Reed.

The man nodded and closed the door behind them. Jamie studied Harlan's office. It was large and paneled in teak. A triple window overlooked more gardens, a valley below, and in the distance purple mountain ranges. Rawlins's desk was tucked into one corner of the room. A stone fireplace with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on either side — mostly religious material — took up one wall. The opposite end was decorated in earth tones, with plump sofas and chairs and a multi-print rug that seemed to pull everything together.

"Very nice," she said, trying to commit it to memory. She would describe it later in her notebook.

"I spend a lot of time in here, so it was designed for comfort." Harlan smiled. "I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place."

"Not at all." Jamie met his gaze. She thought he looked tired. "I appreciate your inviting me to your home on such short notice, Reverend Rawlins. I hope this isn't an inconvenience."

"Of course not. Now, why don't we try to be less formal? You call me Harlan, and I'll call you Jane. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?" When she shook her head, he motioned toward one of the sofas. "Please sit down." He sat beside her.

"I was surprised to find a security guard out front," Jamie said.

He nodded solemnly. "I'm not crazy about the idea, but I'm afraid it's necessary."

She gave him an innocent, wide-eyed look. "Are you in danger?"

Harlan smiled gently and patted her hand. "There are people in this world who don't appreciate my spreading the Good Word. But don't worry; you're safe. Now, let's talk about you."

Jamie shrugged. "There's not much to tell. My husband and I just moved here and we were hoping to find a good church."

"You're married?"

"Just barely," she said. "My marriage is sort of on the skids right now because of my, um, indiscretions."

"Tell me a little bit about your problem, Jane. If you don't mind talking about it, that is."

"I trust you, Reverend Rawlins," she said. "I knew the minute I looked into your eyes and touched your hand last night that I could tell you anything."

"I'm glad you feel that way, dear."

Jamie sighed. "I don't know where to begin. I've just been wild as long as I can remember."

"Explain what you mean by wild."

"You know, loose as a goose."

"Would you say that you're promiscuous?"

"Oh, yeah." Jamie put her hand on his knee. "I can't seem to help myself."

Harlan glanced down at her hand. "Do you and your husband presently have, um, relations?"

"No. Which makes my condition worse. I'm like a walking time bomb, Harlan."

He sucked in his breath and glanced toward the closed door. "Jane, I am terribly concerned about your condition, but you must realize the danger you place yourself in each time—"

"I use protection," she interrupted.

Harlan shifted on the sofa. "Do you ever feel guilty afterward?"

"Sometimes. It doesn't stop me, though."

"Have any of these men ever hurt you?"

Jamie lifted her eyes to his. "Only when I ask them to."

* * * * *

"Holy crap!" Max said, listening to every word Jamie said. "What does she think she's doing?"

Lying next to Max in the crawlspace beneath Harlan Rawlins's house, Dave was busy shining his light in the dirt. "Sounds like she wants Harlan to slap her around. Some women are into that sort of thing. Can we go now?"

Max shot him a dark look. "Jamie's not like that. And we can't leave. You haven't even linked up the cameras."

"I can't believe you dragged me into this," Dave said. "This is a breeding ground for spiders and cockroaches. We're probably lying in cockroach feces at this very moment. Damn, my left eye is twitching."

Max glanced at him. "What does that mean?"

"Means I don't like it down here, that's what it means."

"Well, the sooner we get the job done, the better."

"I'm working as fast as I can."

"And you're doing a hell of a job," Max said. "You want something done right, you hire the best. That's you, Dave."

"You couldn't afford to pay me to do this," Dave grumbled. "I'm doing it out of friendship and nothing more. Hell, man, we wouldn't even know it if a spider bit us." He paused in his work. "Is it me or does the house seem to be getting lower? I feel like everything is closing in on me. I'm having trouble breathing."