Janet Evanovich - Full Speed

"There's a little place not far from here," he said after a moment. "I go there a lot. Or I did until recently," he added.

She offered him a bright smile, hoping she could bring one to his face as well, even under his current circumstances. "Tell you what, I've got an old truck outside, but it will probably get me to the restaurant. Why don't I follow you?"

* * * * *

When Jamie pulled into the driveway beside the cabin, she found Max pacing the yard. Lord, she hadn't realized how late she was. She and Michael had talked almost two hours before she'd thought to check her watch, before she'd finally mumbled a hurried good-bye. Unfortunately, Michael had not divulged more information about those threatening to extort money from him, as though he feared he'd already said too much. That didn't mean she was giving up.

Max yanked the door open as soon as she'd parked. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I told you I was going to Wal-Mart."

"We just got back from there. You weren't in the store or the restaurant area. Your truck wasn't in the parking lot. I tried to call you a dozen times. What happened?"

"Jeez, you were spying on me?" Jamie realized she had her head cocked to the side like Fleas did when she asked him if he had to take a leak.

"No, I wasn't spying on you; I was afraid you'd broken down in the truck or that something had happened. Jesus, Jamie, you've been gone for three hours."

She saw the deep concern on his face. She wanted to tell him the truth, about Michael and their meeting, but she needed time to think about it herself. She had sworn not to utter a word of what Michael had said to her. Sworn to him. And rule number one for journalists was never to compromise your source. Especially when there was more information to be had. Better to keep her mouth shut. For now.

Still, not confiding everything to Max felt like lying.

"Jamie?"

"Yeah?" This time Max had his head cocked to the side.

"I lost track of the time, OK? And I must've forgotten to turn on my cell phone. I'm sorry I worried you."

Jamie saw Dave leaning against the Bennett Electric truck. He wore a thick bandage on his arm. He was staring at Fleas.

"Is that your dog?" he asked. When Jamie nodded, he gave a deep frown. "I'm allergic to dog dander. Dust mites thrive on animal dander."

"Dust mites thrive on everything, Dave," Max said, "including your own skin."

"I'm not as allergic to poodles or Italian greyhounds," Dave went on as though he hadn't heard Max. "Oh, and whippets and Mexican hairless dogs are pretty much hypoallergenic. I wish you had a poodle," he told Jamie.

Jamie looked at Fleas, who had followed her out of the truck. She tried to imagine him as a poodle and couldn't. "He's really a good dog," she said.

"Don't you take allergy shots and medication?" Max asked Dave.

Dave ignored him. "My eyes are already itching." He stepped closer to Max. "Are they red and puffy?"

"They look perfectly normal to me."

"I'll try to keep the dog away from you," Jamie promised.

Dave sighed. "I suppose I can double up on my medication. I may have to run back to the hospital for an allergy shot."

Max turned to Jamie. "Dave is going to follow us to Knoxville for your rendezvous with Rawlins."

"Us?"

"I'll drive you part of the way so I can get updates from Muffin. Once we're at the hotel, Dave and I will be close by in case something happens."

"What if Harlan recognizes you?"

"He won't see me." He paused. "Trust me, Rawlins has something up his sleeve or he wouldn't have invited you to lunch at a hotel in Knoxville."

"He's a womanizer, Max. That doesn't make him dangerous."

"What are you going to do when he suggests getting a room?"

Jamie had already considered it. And planned for it. She had purchased an extra-strength fast-acting laxative in the pharmacy at Wal-Mart, and she planned to put it in Rawlins's tea or coffee if the opportunity presented itself. It was probably the dumbest idea she'd ever had, which was why she had no intention of telling Max, but it might prove a deterrent if things got out of hand.

"I'm going to have to play it by ear, Max," she said after a moment. "I have to appear interested and hope I gain his trust without, well, you know—"

"Yeah, I know. Which brings me to the next subject," he said. "I think you should wear a wire. In case something happens."

Jamie looked from Max to Dave, then back at Max. "That's kinda risky, isn't it?"

"Going in without a wire would be more of a risk," Max replied. "Dave and I have had Rawlins under surveillance since yesterday. From what we've been able to learn through his conversations with his bodyguard, he mouthed off at the guy who's been bleeding him for money the past few years. Have you heard of the Santoni family?"

Jamie nodded. "Who hasn't? Two of them went to trial a few years back for murder."

"They whacked a cop who was on the family's payroll," Dave said. "Supposedly, it was an honest mistake, but you don't kill cops, especially the ones covering your ass."

"They got off, if I remember correctly," she said.

"The star witness literally disappeared off the face of the earth," he said, "despite around-the-clock police protection. One of the shooters, Nick Santoni, was involved in the cop killing. His uncle sent him to Tennessee, as sort of a punishment. The other shooter accidentally drowned in his bathtub."

Jamie arched one brow. "How come Nick Santoni didn't suffer the same consequences?"

"His father headed up the family until he died of a heart attack five years ago," Max said. "Nick was supposed to take his place, but the family vetoed it, and Nick's uncle was forced to come out of retirement and take over. He wanted to see Nick eventually head up the family, but it isn't likely."

"Why not?" Jamie asked.

"Nick has a habit of disobeying orders, moving in on other people's territory, you name it. He's got a chip on his shoulder and doesn't get along with the family, except for this uncle."

Jamie pondered it. "That's odd, since the uncle is the one who took what Nick would consider his rightful place."

"This uncle protects Nick," Dave said. "Not only is he Nick's godfather, Nick was always his favorite. So he sent him here, and Nick has opened shop, so to speak. He's got Rawlins by the short hairs. On top of that, we think Nick is supplying Rawlins with uppers and downers."

"The rest of the family merely tolerate Nick," Max told her, "but it looks like Nick regained their favor when he got his hooks into Rawlins. But Nick has a serious gambling problem and squanders money. Both the Santoni family and Harlan put up the money to buy my TV network but lost the bid. Harlan is convinced Nick blew the money in Atlantic City, at least that's what we heard him tell Reed, and it's a real possibility, since Nick visits the area a couple of times a month.

"Now, Nick has raised Rawlins's percentage, probably hoping to pacify the family until he can get his hands on enough money to pay them back. But Rawlins has had enough, despite the fact Nick is feeding what looks like a drug addiction. Rawlins is thinking of going over Nick's head and telling the uncle the truth."

"The mob has their own code of ethics," Dave said. "Family honor and all that. Nick is a rogue player who doesn't care who he hurts as long as he gets what he wants. And right now he wants and needs money. If he catches wind that Rawlins is thinking of blowing the whistle on him, he could get really dangerous."

"Either way, Nick loses," Max said. "If he has Rawlins killed or pushes him too far, there goes his meal ticket, and the family is going to wash their hands of him. If he lets Rawlins live, there's a chance he's going to be found out."

"And that could be equally bad," Dave said. "Would Nick's own family kill him?" Jamie asked.