Janet Evanovich - Full Tilt

"I don't see you as someone who has problems fitting in, and you don't seem to have trouble getting close to people. You and Deedee act like sisters."

"That's a no-brainer. How can you not love Deedee? She's so unpredictable."

"I thought you like predictability."

"Okay, so Deedee is unpredictable in a predictable way." Jamie went on. "What I like most about her is, despite her money and flamboyance, she's really honest and down-to-earth. At least with me," Jamie added. "She doesn't put on airs. What you see is what you get."

"Sort of like you," he said, his tone softer. He'd barely gotten the words out of his mouth before an earsplitting alarm went off.

Jamie jumped. "What was that?"

"My car!" Max bolted from his chair and raced out the front door, almost slamming into a bearded, heavy set man in work clothes.

"What's going on?" Max demanded.

"Your car alarm just went off, but I guess you already know that."

"Did you see anyone go near it?"

The man wiped his forehead with a dirty bandana. "Me and my partner were round back when we heard it."

Max was only vaguely aware of a tall skinny man in the background as he raced toward his car. He jerked open the door.

Muffin spoke immediately. "Max?"

"What happened?"

"Get away from the car. Somebody has tampered with it."

He ignored her and began checking beneath the seats. Nothing. He popped the trunk. "Dammit!" he shouted.

"What's wrong?" Jamie asked, peering over his shoulder. What she saw made her freeze. "Holy cow, is that what I think it is?"

"It's dynamite," Max said. "Get away from the car. It's timed to go off in forty seconds."

"Oh, damn!" Jamie cried. "Double damn!" She almost tripped over her own two feet as she backed farther away, ticking off the seconds in her head. "Get away, Max!" she cried. "Please!"

"Clear the area, Max," Muffin repeated loudly. "I'm phoning the bomb squad."

"No time!" he yelled. Max grabbed the small toolbox he kept in the trunk and flipped open the lid. He reached for a pair of wire cutters, and studied the wires leading from the clock to the sticks of dynamite. Twenty-five seconds.

A giant fist seemed to grab Jamie's stomach and squeeze so tightly she feared she'd be sick. "Max, for God's sake, please move away from the car." She suddenly realized she was crying.

Max leaned in for a closer look. "I can do this, Jamie."

"Okay, Max," Muffin said. "Forget the bomb squad, I'm calling the county coroner. Not that I expect him to find much."

Ten seconds. Max very gently pulled the wires away from one another, put the wire cutters to one of them and snipped. He grinned and punched the air with his fist. "Like taking candy from a baby. And only two seconds left." He glanced in Jamie's direction. "Am I good or what?"

Very calmly, and without taking her eyes off him, Jamie marched toward him, eyes menacing, fists balled at her sides. "I ought to punch you right in the face for that," she said.

"Go ahead," Muffin said. "I'll cheer you on."

Max looked surprised. "What'd I do?"

"You stupid idiot!" she shouted. "You imbecile!"

Max cocked his head to one side. "I'm going out on a limb here, but something tells me you're not happy."

Jamie feared her knees would fold beneath her. "I wish I were a man. A big man," she added, "because I would kick your butt from here to the moon. Are you crazy?" she yelled at the top of her voice.

"Crazy as hell," Muffin said. "Welcome to Max's world."

"Jamie, now calm down."

"Don't talk to me! Don't even speak my name."

"But, Jamie—"

"Who do you think you are, Holt? Superman? Or do you have some kind of death wish?"

"I know about bombs, Jamie. I've trained with the best. I wouldn't have taken the chance if I hadn't known what I was doing."

"You love this sort of thing, Max. Probably it gives you some kind of sick thrill. Well, guess what? I don't want to be a part of it. I don't want to be the one who has to scrape you off the pavement when your luck runs out."

Country music blared from the car. Max winced. "Now look what you've done. You've upset Muffin." He walked over to the car. "Shut it off, Muffin," he ordered.

"To hell with you," Muffin replied. "You deliberately ignored my warning."

Max sighed as the music turned to disco. "Where do you find that stuff?"

"I am trained to protect you, Max. I am fed information around the clock by some of the brightest people in the world. What good is it if you refuse to cooperate? I'm telling you, this job sucks."

Max reached in and turned off the radio. He stood there for a moment, his mind searching for answers. "It's over," he said. "Everything is okay." Max very carefully picked up the dynamite. He carried it to the side of the house, found Jamie's metal garbage can and placed it inside. He then reached for the garden hose, turned on the spigot and filled the can with water.

Having followed him, Jamie watched, hands on hips. "Trying to blow up my garbage can now?"

"I've disabled the bomb. I'm simply taking extra precautions." He stepped back. "That should do it. We won't get any action out of this sucker now."

A few minutes later, Max rounded the house with Jamie on his heels. He suddenly looked up. "What happened to the guys cutting the grass next door?"

"How should I know? I was counting off the seconds until I'd have to watch you blown to smithereens."

"That's strange," he said, noting the lawn mower sitting in the middle of the yard.

Jamie was still fighting her anger. "Maybe they're taking a lunch break. Or maybe they heard the word 'dynamite' and decided to get the heck out of here. Sane people run from that sort of thing, Holt."

Max gazed thoughtfully at the still overgrown grass. "Did you happen to see if they were in a vehicle?"

Jamie wondered why he was so interested in the yardmen. Probably trying to get her mind off the fact he needed a padded cell. "No, why?" It suddenly hit her. "Do you think they put the dynamite in the trunk of your car?"

"That's what I'm thinking. They certainly had the opportunity, and it's odd they left so quickly. Wonder if your neighbors saw anything."

Jamie glanced around. "Doesn't look like anyone has gotten home from work yet. The only person who would have been around to see anything is Mrs. Chadwick, but she's old and senile and spends most of her time in bed watching TV. I think it would scare her if we started asking questions, and we wouldn't get any information anyway."

Max nodded. "Why don't you go ahead and pack a bag?"

Jamie swallowed, and it felt like a chicken egg going down her throat. She wasn't used to guns and bombs and crazy men. She turned for the front door, and then paused. "The only reason I'm being civil right now is because we've got a dangerous situation on our hands. I want you to know I'm still mad and never want to speak to you again as long as I live."

As Jamie packed her bag, she wondered if life would ever return to normal. Max Holt had literally roared into her life and turned everything upside down and inside out, and he seemed determined to keep it up.

She needed to hurry up and marry Phillip, she thought. Phillip was safe and normal. Max Holt was anything but. He was dangerous. Probably more dangerous than the person who was after them.

* * * * *

Jamie and Max arrived at the Fontana house with plenty of time to spare before dinner. Jamie soaked in a hot tub with lavender bath salts Deedee provided, dried with a thick towel, and coated her body with a special lotion that Deedee swore no woman should be without. Instead of reaching for one of her nightshirts, Jamie grabbed a satin guest robe. Deedee believed in pampering everyone.