Janet Evanovich - Full Speed

"But—"

"Find a safe place where you'll be surrounded by people. Wal-Mart. Just get the hell out and turn on your damn cell phone for once," he added.

Jamie slammed down the phone. "Come on, Fleas!" she cried. "Let's go." She reached for her purse and fumbled through it for Dave's keys. They weren't there. She checked the counter. Holy crap, they were nowhere to be found. She upended her purse on the kitchen table and raked through the mess, her hands shaking so badly they were almost of no use. Oh, if only she would take five minutes out of her life to straighten her purse. She stuffed everything back in.

Where could she have left them? She looked beneath a stack of newspapers, behind an artificial plant. She stepped on Fleas's paw, and he let out a yelp.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "Where did I put the damn keys? Where is my cell phone?" The dog took a step back as though he feared he'd done something wrong. "I'm sorry, boy," she said, patting his bony head. "I'm not mad at you, I'm just losing my mind." She checked her bedroom and came out empty-handed. "I don't believe this," she said, feeling as though she had literally lost her mind.

OK, think, she told herself. Maybe she'd accidentally left them in Dave's truck. Or maybe they'd fallen out of her purse on the way in. Anything was possible in her current state of mind.

She raced to the door and jerked it open. Michael Juliano was standing on the other side.

* * * * *

Max pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store. He punched several buttons on his phone.

"Why are we stopping?" Muffin asked.

"I have to disable the GPS on this phone. I don't want Santoni looking over my shoulder. Besides, I don't know which way to go," he said. "I don't want to end up driving away from Dave. I have to think."

"OK, back to dead things," Muffin said. "It could mean anything. We automatically think it's the end of a life. Dead people, dead animals."

"It could be an inanimate object," Max said.

"Something that is of no use anymore. A dead cigarette butt, for example. Or old newspapers or trash. Dave could be lying in a landfill or recycling area."

"There's a landfill on the edge of town, also has bins for recyclables on the premises," Muffin said. "I can get you the address, but I can't give you directions because, well, because I'm not equipped for it in this rust bucket."

"I'll check inside." Max got out of the truck and hurried into the convenience store.

"I got the directions," Max said when he returned, "but I have a funny feeling about this. Know what I think?"

"It's too easy. You're being set up."

"Right. I drive up to the landfill, it's dark and probably deserted, and Santoni or one of his thugs will be waiting for me. I'm a perfect target. That's not where Dave is being held."

"Where then?"

"I want you to check all listings under Marconi. Maybe something is in his name."

"I've already done that, remember? All I found was a few bars in Knoxville."

"OK, try the other guy's name. Bennetti," he added. "He may have disappeared, but it wouldn't surprise me if Santoni was using his name. He seems to do that a lot."

"OK, checking," Muffin said. She was back in a matter of seconds. "Uh-oh. You're not going to like it."

"Tell me anyway."

"I typed in the name Bennetti, but nothing came up. Then I typed in the first three letters of Bennetti's name and it pulled up several Bennetts. I acted on a hunch—"

"Computers don't have hunches, Muffin, remember?"

"And I did a crosscheck on Bennett's home number. Not only did I get the number for the landfill, I got several business numbers, including the number for a place called Last Chance Auto Salvage and—"

Max went perfectly still. "Bennett Electric."

"Right. Tom Bennett owns all three. Peter Thomas Bennetti is Tom Bennett, your current employer."

Max sat there for a moment, his jaw working. "That means Santoni knew Dave and I were planning to tap into Rawlins's phone line because Bennett would have told him. Santoni also knew exactly when we tapped into his phone line.

"Santoni has been playing me all along. He put everything into motion before I left Beaumont. He even had time to falsify records so that it looked like Tom Bennett was ripe for acquisition." Max stared out the window. "Jesus Christ, I'm not believing this. How did he move so quickly? How could he have set me up in that length of time?"

"He's good, Max. Damn good."

"I don't get it," Max said. "Why didn't someone just kill Dave and me while we were out there tapping into Santoni's line? Instead, they waited."

"I'm stumped, Max. Santoni is playing a game, and he's not letting anyone in on the rules."

Max sighed. "Damn, I'm going to have to go back in that store and ask for directions."

"It's called Last Chance Auto Salvage," Muffin said as though reading his mind.

Max opened the car door, then paused. "If you think about it, a car that no longer works is as good as dead."

"Max, you don't want to know what I'm thinking. If Last Chance Auto Salvage has a crusher—"

"It's the perfect way to dispose of a body," Max said.

* * * * *

Jamie blinked at the man who called himself Michael Juliano. It was as though a veil had been lifted from her eyes. She had been looking for a mobster, a thug, but Nick Santoni had come in a handsome package and was as polished and persuasive as a politician.

He held up her wallet. "It must've fallen from your purse. I tried to follow you, but I got lost on these damn mountain roads. I was about to give up before I spotted this road. I took a chance and drove down despite all the No Trespassing signs. Good thing I did, because I spotted that truck immediately."

Jamie took the wallet but didn't say anything. How had he managed to slip it from her purse without her noticing?

"Are you OK?" he asked. "You look upset." He frowned. "You're not having trouble with your husband, are you?"

Jamie made a split-second decision to play along. "It's a long story, Michael. Listen, I was just on my way out." But he already knew that, she reminded herself. He would suspect that Max had called and told her to get out. The only thing he didn't seem to know at the minute was that she did know his true identity.

"At this hour?" He looked surprised.

"Yes. I need to go to the, um, store. For coffee," she added quickly. "I can't stand to wake up and not have coffee in the house." She realized she was talking too fast, probably not making any sense.

"Why don't I take you? I don't like the idea of your driving on these roads at night, and it's foggy out."

"No, no, I'll be fine," she said, hurrying toward Dave's truck. She noticed the fog. It had come in quickly. "Besides, I might be a while. Sometimes when I can't sleep I drive to Wal-Mart and just spend hours looking around, you know?" She opened the door to the truck. "I seem to have misplaced the keys." She looked, but there was no sight of the keys or her cell phone. She checked the ground.

"What do they look like?" Michael asked.

"They're attached to a leather strip." It suddenly hit her. He hadn't slipped her wallet from her purse. He had taken her wallet, her cell phone, and the keys to Bennett's truck. He had come into the cabin while she was showering. She had not heard the buzzer because of the loud washing machine and because she had been in the bathroom with the water running.

And because she'd been so anxious she had been talking to Fleas nonstop as she had bathed. Or maybe Nick had somehow disabled the alarm.

She turned to Michael. "Listen, I appreciate your dropping off my wallet, but I need to search the cabin for my keys …" She paused as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the leather strip that held both the key to the cabin and the one to Bennett's truck.