Janet Evanovich - Full Speed

Jamie felt her face burn. "You listened to our conversation?"

"Why do you think we were there? Dave and I tapped into both the phone lines and the surveillance cameras."

"I thought you were there for backup."

"How would we know you were in trouble if we couldn't hear what was going on? Or were you just planning to scream if something happened? And how else do you expect us to find out who Harlan's mob pals are if we can't hear or see the activity over there?"

Jamie knew all that in theory, of course, only she didn't like having her conversation with Harlan taped. "Well, I hope you and Dave enjoyed yourselves."

"Actually, I thought you played him pretty well."

"You did?"

"Until you kissed him."

"Oh, for Pete's sake!"

"He must have enjoyed it. He invited you to lunch tomorrow."

Jamie sighed. "That should please you. The whole point of my being here is to try to spend time with him and get information."

"Not if it puts you in danger. We already know what the man is capable of."

And then he kissed her, soft and lingering. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

"We're good together, Jamie. We could be better." He reached for the hem of her top and pulled it upward and over her head, exposing her bra. He kissed the valley between her breasts before unhooking the back of her bra and pulling it away.

Jamie simply stood there, not knowing what else to do, enjoying the feel of her body responding to Max. "Max? This is scary."

"Scary?"

"Complicated."

"You make it complicated."

"It's a girl thing."

"I like girl things."

She chuckled. "You're terrible."

"Can't you for once just let go and enjoy your life without knowing precisely what's going to happen next? You're willing to take all sorts of risks with Harlan Rawlins just to get your story."

"That's different."

"The things you put me through." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a miniature cell phone. He handed it to her. "My number is voice-activated. You'll be able to reach me at all times, just by calling my name. Not only will I get your call, I'll know your location. Keep it with you and turned on at all times." He started for the door, then turned. "OK?"

She nodded.

* * * * *

"Somebody want to tell me what's going on?" Muffin demanded early the next morning as Max and Jamie sat inside Jamie's pickup truck. The engineers had worked through the night, installing Muffin and welding the glove compartment shut so that nobody would be able to detect the system. Max was doing a final check before Jamie took off on her shopping trip.

"I've already explained why this was necessary," Max said. "Jamie and I have to blend in the community. I can't very well drive my car, but I'm still going to need your assistance."

"I've lost most of my capabilities," Muffin said.

"You're still hooked up to the motherboard. You'll be able to get the information I need."

"I don't have my sensors or my siren. I was attached to that siren."

In the back of the truck, Fleas howled.

"What was that?" Muffin asked.

"My dog," Jamie said. "He's a bloodhound, and his name is Fleas."

Muffin gave a snort of disgust. "I should have known something like this would happen. I'm riding in a rust bucket with a hound dog named Fleas."

"It gets worse, Muffin," Max said. "Jamie let Harlan Rawlins kiss her yesterday."

"Oh God. See what happens when you shut me down?" Muffin accused. "I can't turn my back for one minute without you two getting into something."

"It's not what you think," Jamie said. "I was just doing my job."

"I can't believe you let him kiss you," Muffin said as though shocked and dismayed. "Is he a good kisser?"

Jamie shrugged. "Passable."

Max shook his head as he climbed from the truck and slammed the door. He turned and peered in the open window. "Look, Anderson is going to be here in a couple of hours. The three of us need to talk."

"I'll be back by then." Jamie slid beneath the wheel.

"Where on earth are you going to shop for clothes at this hour?"

"Wal-Mart."

"It's not even six a.m."

"They're open twenty-four hours a day."

"Except on Sunday," Muffin said.

Max glanced at the dashboard. "I can't believe you actually know when Wal-Mart is open." He turned to Jamie. "What could you possibly need at this hour?"

Jamie tossed him a saucy smile. "Shorter skirts, Holt." She pulled from the driveway, leaving a frowning Max behind.

* * * * *

Jamie decided shopping at Wal-Mart at six in the morning had its advantages. For one thing, she had the best pick of parking spots. She promised Muffin she would hurry before climbing from the truck, and gave Fleas a firm warning to stay put. She headed for the glass doors leading inside the store.

At first Jamie didn't notice him. She was too busy thumbing through the women's department where skirts in animal prints had been marked half-price. She felt someone watching her and turned. A tall, well-dressed man with black hair was staring.

As if realizing he'd suddenly been caught, he jumped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

She noted the desolate look in his eyes. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, well …" He paused and gave a pained smile. "Actually, no."

"Are you ill? Should I ask one of the employees to help you?"

"That would probably be best. If you don't mind," he added in a strained voice.

Jamie nodded and hurried off to find someone working in women's wear.

A stout woman with short gray hair joined the man a moment later. "May I help you, sir?"

"Yes, thank you. I need to buy a dress for my sister."

Jamie continued thumbing through the clothes on a rack not far away. She was only vaguely aware of the two talking.

"What kind of dress?" the woman asked.

"Something pretty."

"What's the occasion, hon?"

The man didn't answer right away. Jamie paused in what she was doing and waited for his answer.

"Something nice enough for church," he finally said. "Do you have anything in pink? That was her favorite color." He whispered the rest.

Jamie strained to hear.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir," the saleslady said quietly. "Of course I'll help you. I'll need her size."

"I think she wore about a size ten. She has pretty clothes at home, but I couldn't bring myself to go there and look through her closet. Under the circumstances," he added. "I don't like what the people at the funeral home chose for her."

Jamie moved away. From what she'd managed to hear, the man had obviously just lost his sister, and she didn't feel right listening to such a private and painful conversation. Once she'd made her purchase, she hurried into the small restaurant area, where she purchased a sprinkled donut and a cup of coffee. She took a seat at one of the tables. She'd only taken one sip of her coffee when the man she'd spotted earlier walked in, ordered coffee, and sat in a booth a short distance away.

Jamie tried not to stare, but she couldn't help it. Grief etched his face, making him look older than he probably was. He raised his coffee to his mouth, and she could see that his hands trembled badly. All at once, the cup slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. He jumped, obviously startled.

Jamie bolted to her feet and hurried over. "Are you OK? Were you burned?"

He was already on the floor trying to mop up the mess with his napkin. He looked up as though surprised to see her. "No, I'm fine, but I made a big mess."

Jamie hurried to a counter and plucked napkins from a dispenser. She cleaned up the spill as best as she could. "You're sure you're not burned?"

"I wasn't burned, really. Thanks for helping me." He looked embarrassed. "I used to spill my milk at the dinner table, too." He tried to smile.