Janet Evanovich - Full Tilt

Snakeman looked at Frankie. "What's she doing?"

"Max created a computer with voice recognition," he said. "She keeps up with his every move."

Deedee waited for Muffin's response, but there was none. "Look, Muffin, Max has already told me how stubborn you are, but this is an emergency. Max is missing. I think he's in trouble."

"Deedee Fontana?" a voice said from an unseen speaker.

"Yeah, it's me."

Big John and Choker stepped closer to the car.

"I have a question for you, Deedee," Muffin said. "You once broke into Max's cousin's house looking for a piece of jewelry. What was it called?"

"You mean my Stargio?"

"What exactly is a Stargio?"

Deedee looked at Frankie and shrugged her shoulders as if confused.

"I think Muffin wants to make sure it's really you," Frankie whispered.

"Oh." Deedee looked at the dashboard. "The Stargio was a piece of jewelry specifically designed for a dress I'd planned to wear to the ambassador's ball. I broke into Max's house and set off all his alarms. I'm lucky I wasn't tossed into the slammer, but the cops were used to me setting off Max's alarms."

"Nice to meet you, Deedee," Muffin said. "Tell me about Max."

"He's been missing since this afternoon."

"Miss Swift is with him," Muffin said. It was more a statement than a question.

"Yeah."

"Oh, damn."

Big John nudged Snakeman. "It cusses. I've never heard a computer cuss."

"I specifically warned Max not to go through with it," Muffin said. "He has put himself and Miss Swift in serious danger."

"Where is he?" Deedee asked.

"They borrowed a boat so they could visit a man called Swamp Dog."

"Swamp Dog!" Deedee shrieked. "You can't be serious. He's supposed to be some kind of murdering sleazebag lunatic."

"Have you contacted the police department?"

"Yes. They're here now."

"I can arrange a rescue team," Muffin said.

She was quiet for a few minutes. "I've lined up a chopper, but they can't start searching until daybreak."

Deedee sounded surprised. "You did it that fast?"

"I have to work fast when it comes to your brother. The minute you see Max, tell him I have the information he asked for. By the way, are you still having hot flashes?"

Deedee blinked. "As a matter of fact, I am. Everybody thinks I'm menopausal."

"You're too young for that."

Deedee shot a look at Frankie. "Yeah, I know."

"Still, I might be able to help you."

Deedee glanced in the direction of the men. "Excuse me, gentlemen, this is a private conversation." She closed the door and locked it. "Okay, Muffin, I'm listening."

* * * * *

A regal Annabelle Standish stood at the wet bar in the study of her Georgian mansion and poured her best brandy into two snifters. She wore a satin dressing gown and bedroom slippers, but her hair and makeup looked as fresh as it had when she'd walked out of the house that morning. At fifty-seven, her face was as smooth as a thirty-year-old's, thanks to the daily beauty regimen she followed, which included a brisk walk each morning after her first cup of coffee. Her husband had been dead a good ten years now, but she had never remarried. She filled her days with luncheons and dinner parties and, of course, her charity work.

She handed one of the brandy snifters to Phillip. "Are you okay?"

He didn't respond. Instead, he raised his glass to his lips and drained it.

"That's an insult to good brandy, Phillip. You're supposed to sip it slowly. One would think you'd been raised on Wild Turkey."

"What time is it?" he asked, obviously ignoring her.

"It's only ten minutes later than the last time you asked." Annabelle's look softened. "Why don't you try to rest? I'll listen for the telephone."

"I should have made Jamie stay here. I should have insisted."

"It wouldn't have done any good, Phillip. That girl has a mind of her own, and there's no budging her once she makes a decision. I can't complain, though, because I'm just like her. What I don't understand is why she spends so much time with that Fontana woman."

"They're best friends."

Annabelle sniffed. "Well, once I introduce her into nice society, Jamie will make new friends, Lord help us."

"Stop acting like a snob, Mother. Frankie and Deedee Fontana are fine people."

"Well, I know that, son, but they aren't—" She paused.

"Up to snuff?" Phillip said.

"That's not at all what I meant."

"You know what your problem is, Mother?" he said. "You do everything you can to help the less fortunate, but your standards are way up there when it comes to choosing your friends and acquaintances."

"You're being unfair to me, Phillip. I care just as much about this town as your friend Frankie Fontana. The only difference is I was making progress long before he showed up with his redheaded wife and built that god-awful house that I don't mind telling you is an embarrassment to this town. Wouldn't surprise me if that wife of his wallpapered it in red satin. That's what happens when people have more money than they do common sense. I only hope she'll try to tone down that hair before the wedding." Annabelle took a sip of her drink. "Speaking of that family, what do you know about this Max Holt person other than what we've read in the newspaper?"

Phillip stood and walked toward the wet bar where he poured another drink. "I'm having trouble getting a fix on the guy. He's very private. I know he's assisting Frankie in the tax-fund investigation, but that's about all I know."

"Well, he spends entirely too much time with Jamie, if you ask me. It doesn't look good for an engaged woman to be in the company of another man. Won't be long before the rumors start flying." She sniffed. "The fact they're both missing is certain to start tongues wagging."

"I'm more concerned about Jamie's safety right now than I am local gossip," Phillip said. "Besides, I trust Jamie."

"Well, of course you do. It's not Jamie I'm worried about. Mr. Holt has quite a reputation with the ladies from what I understand. I fear he'll take advantage of her.

"I hope she settles down after your marriage," Annabelle continued. "Perhaps I can get her involved in my work."

"Jamie will never give up that newspaper," Phillip replied. "She's determined to make it what it was when her grandfather ran it. Before her father made a mess of everything."

Annabelle looked thoughtful. "She might sell if somebody offered her enough money."

"I see the gears turning in your head already, Mother. You need to stay out of it and let Jamie do what she likes best."

"You don't understand, son. There is nothing more satisfying than helping someone in need. The Standish women have never worked for a paycheck. We don't need the money, and it won't look right for your wife to be working sixty hours a week. Folks will think you can't take care of her. Of course that will be an unnecessary consideration if she decides to take up with this Max fellow."

Phillip gave a weary sigh. "Go to bed, Mother, before you give yourself a migraine. I'll worry about Jamie."

* * * * *

Jamie was awakened by a sound far off in the distance. A helicopter. No doubt, it was searching for them. She sat up. Max was in the process of covering the fire with dirt. He looked pensive.

The chopper grew closer. Without a word, Jamie stood and tried to brush the wrinkles from her clothes. She shook her blanket and folded it. They were being rescued. So why was she feeling sad?

"Uh, Max?"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

It was impossible to read his expression. Jamie wondered what he was thinking. "About last night."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jamie. I started the whole thing. Forget it."

"Forget it? Is that all you have to say?"

He stood and walked closer. "You've got your entire life mapped out to the nth degree. You've obviously thought it through carefully, and I respect that." He sighed and wiped his hand down his face. "I need to finish the job I started and go home."