Janet Evanovich - Full Speed

Their gazes locked. "Don't make it hard on yourself, Jamie. I don't want to shove you into my car at gunpoint. Just get in."

She stood frozen to her spot. She had not realized Fleas had followed her out, but he nudged her with his wet nose.

"Tell you what. I'll be a nice guy and let you bring the mutt. You know I like him. Shall we?" He put his hand under her elbow and prodded her toward the Jaguar. Jamie did as she was told. He paused long enough to let Fleas get into the back, and then opened the passenger door for Jamie. She hesitated.

"Get in, Jamie."

She got in. She waited until he'd climbed in on the other side before she spoke. "What do you want with me, Nick?" she asked.

He smiled and started the car. "So you've finally figured it out. I simply want to talk to you, that's all."

"Why can't we talk here?"

"I don't want any interruptions from your boyfriend, Mr. Holt."

"Max is not my boyfriend."

"So you say." He started the car and pulled from the driveway.

Jamie tried to remain calm even as the fear began to build inside her with every heartbeat. "Where are you taking me?"

"Some place where we can talk in private. My home." He hit the automatic lock.

She grimaced in the dark. She was as good as dead.

"What have we got?" Muffin asked once Max had scoped out the property surrounding Last Chance Auto Salvage.

Max began pulling out tools from behind the seat and stuffing them into a backpack. "High-voltage fencing, razor wire, top-of-the line security system, and a bad-ass pit bull."

"Hmm. I didn't realize it was so difficult to find good used automotive parts."

Max slipped on the backpack. "Yeah, well, I have a feeling there's a lot more going on in this place than buying and selling auto parts."

"How far away did you park?" Muffin asked.

"Quarter of a mile. Hard to see clearly because of the fog. I don't think anyone is home, but I don't want to risk Nick or his buddies seeing the truck."

"I can probably take care of the dog."

"Probably?" Max said. "You don't sound too certain, and this dog looks mean as hell."

"I can produce an ultrasonic sound of up to two miles, Max, but you realize I'm only going to be able to distract the animal for a matter of minutes. Once he gets accustomed to the sound he'll go after you. I hope you have pepper spray."

"Yeah."

"You'll have to radio me when you're going in and out. I'll hit him with everything I've got, but I can't make any promises."

"I'll be in touch." Max turned on his flashlight and took off on foot. The light seemed to make the fog worse instead of better. The dog was waiting for him when he arrived back at the salvage yard. He barked and snarled as Max donned thick rubber gloves and cut the fence with special wire cutters that would prevent him from suffering a bad shock.

He picked up his cell phone, punched a button, and radioed Muffin. "I'm ready to go in."

"Are you familiar with the security system?"

"Yeah. It's above standard but nothing I can't handle."

"You may not have more than two or three minutes, Max. Here we go."

Max knew the minute Muffin turned on the high-frequency noise-producing sound, not because he heard it but because the dog suddenly reared his head back and shook it hard. Max peeled back a portion of the fence as the dog seemed to forget everything else for the moment except the noise. He yelped and raced away.

Max very carefully slipped past the fence and ran toward the building. He pulled off one glove, reaching into his shirt pocket where he'd tucked a thin but high-powered flashlight. He held it between his teeth and opened the box. Grabbing a screwdriver from his pocket, he shut down the alarm system within seconds.

"I'm in," Max said, once he'd gone through the heavy metal door.

"I see you haven't lost your touch," Muffin said. "I just turned off the noise."

Max crossed a room with a counter and several hard plastic chairs. "I'm in the reception area." He continued down a hall, past a small kitchen, toward the back of the building. He stopped short when he spied a crisscross of blue lights in front of a set of heavy metal doors.

"Aw, shit!"

"What is it?" Muffin asked.

"Lasers."

"You know what that means," Muffin said.

"Yeah. I'm in the right place."

* * * * *

Jamie was quiet as Nick turned on yet another mountain road that seemed to lead farther away from civilization. The fog had worsened, making the ride hazardous, but Nick didn't seem to notice. Jamie gripped the armrest with each twist and turn. Anxiety gnawed at her stomach as she wondered what his plans were.

"You're awfully quiet, Jamie."

"Sorry if I don't feel like playing twenty questions, but my mind is preoccupied."

He chuckled softly. "I know the feeling. I haven't been able to sleep lately. Can't seem to shut off my brain. Have you ever felt like time was running out?"

What a question, she thought. She eyed the locked door. "I think I can relate."

He reached over and took her hand. "I'm sorry if I've frightened you. All I want is for us to talk." He slowed the car and pulled up to a wrought-iron gate. Attached to it was a massive brick wall that Jamie had seen in a photo only hours before.

Nick pushed a button, and his window whispered down. He spoke into a tiny speaker, and the gate immediately slid open. He drove through it, and Jamie watched it close behind them.

"Now, how about that cup of coffee?" Nick said once he'd cut the engine and parked.

Jamie merely shrugged. She remained quiet as he helped her from the car and opened the back door for Fleas. The dog jumped out and shook hard, his ears flapping back and forth.

Jamie glanced around as if impressed by what she saw beneath the tall lighted poles when what she was looking for was an escape route. She noted the outbuildings, heard dogs barking in the distance. The place was probably heavily guarded. She suspected the brick wall encompassed the entire area.

There was no way out.

A man dressed in black emerged from the shadows, two Doberman pinschers beside him, each straining on the leash. Jamie jumped. She recognized him immediately, the man who'd caught her writing down his license tag number, the man who'd taken her notepad. That meant he and Nick knew everything she and Max had been able to find out since arriving in Sweet Pea.

Fleas growled. Nick reached for his collar. "Get the dogs out of here, Rudy."

The man gave Jamie a slow easy smile and walked away, disappearing once more into the dark.

Nick continued holding Fleas's collar. "It's OK, boy," he said. "Don't worry about the dogs, Jamie. I have to keep them on the property due to prowlers."

Yeah, right, she thought.

Together they managed to get Fleas inside the cabin. Jamie was surprised at the dog's aggressiveness; he obviously sensed something wasn't right. She kept petting him, offering him reassurance.

The cabin was spacious and definitely masculine. There wasn't a woman's touch anywhere, not even in the fully equipped kitchen, with its black lacquered cabinets and stainless-steel appliances. A red, black, and yellow abstract painting gave off the only color in the room.

If she lived she would be able to tell her friends she had gotten to see the inside of a killer's house.

Nick walked to the refrigerator. "I offered you coffee, but I have wine if you prefer it."

She didn't need to get drunk; she needed to get out. "Actually, a glass of water would be fine."

"Certainly." He grabbed two glasses from one of the cabinets and filled them from the refrigerator dispenser. He handed her one of the glasses before reaching for a box of dog biscuits. He offered it to Fleas, but the dog backed away. "Suit yourself, boy."