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  “If he were any younger, I’d have to report you to the authorities.”

  “Same old Max.”

  “Tell you what, Swifty. I’m going to be a gentleman about this, seeing as how you probably think I took you for granted. I assumed you wanted to see me as badly as I wanted to see you. But let’s get something straight.” His tone dropped, and there was a slight huskiness to it. “You leave the party with me.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JAMIE’S STOMACH QUIVERED AT THE THOUGHT OF going anywhere with Max. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”

  He stroked one finger down her arm. Her skin prickled.

  “There you go again,” he said. “You’re thinking too much.” He gave her a private smile. “You’re wearing the blue dress. I can’t wait to see what’s under it.”

  Jamie gulped. Yikes, the man was seducing her right there on the spot. And damned if there was anything she could do about it because her tongue had suddenly become plastered to the roof of her mouth.

  And now, here she was, wondering what he was wearing, if anything, beneath that dignified-looking tux.

  “I need a drink,” she said, if for no other reason than to change the subject. Max knew what he did to her, and he was probably enjoying every minute of it.

  Max motioned, and a waiter appeared instantly, carrying a tray of white wine in tall, long-stemmed glasses. “Would you like a glass of chardonnay?” the man asked.

  Jamie concentrated on keeping her hand steady as she reached for one of the goblets. She could feel the perspiration beading her upper lip, and she hadn’t put any tissues in the small bag she’d chosen to bring.

  “Are you hot?” Max asked.

  Jamie tried to play it down, suspecting Max was enjoying her discomfort. “There are too many people crammed into this place. I think your sister invited half the town.”

  “Dee Dee does have a way of going overboard,” Max said, looking about the room.

  Mike returned balancing a plate stacked high with food, camera dangling from his neck. “Hi, Max. Hey, nice tux. I’ll bet you didn’t rent it in Beaumont.” He looked at Jamie. “Why is your face all sweaty?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “I haven’t eaten all day. I hope I don’t make a pig of myself.” He bit into a finger sandwich. “Wow, check out the brunette who just walked through the door. The one in the red dress,” he added. “I should go over and introduce myself. Maybe she’ll let me take her picture.” He winked at Jamie. “Don’t tell Destiny. I’m saving myself for her.” He hurried away.

  Jamie shook her head as she caught the amused look on Max’s face. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “May I?” When Jamie merely shrugged, he very carefully mopped her forehead and upper lip. “There now, good as new.”

  Jamie drained her glass. “I should find Frankie and wish him a happy birthday.”

  “Great, we can go together.”

  Dee Dee Fontana and her assistant Beenie appeared out of nowhere. “Oh, Jamie, I’m so glad you could come!” she cried, hugging her tightly. “You too little brother.” She and Max hugged, as well.

  “You look beautiful,” Jamie said, noting Dee Dee’s ankle-length, Kelly-green cocktail dress. It set off her green eyes and red hair. Jamie was certain Beenie had handpicked the outfit for her; he’d long ago tossed her slinky rhinestone garb, before husband Frankie had been elected as town mayor. Beenie was dressed in Ralph Lauren, his dark hair combed straight back, emphasizing a perfect oval face.

  “Frankie will be thrilled to see you,” Dee Dee said in her Betty Boop voice that gave the former beauty queen a childlike quality most people found endearing.

  “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Jamie said, and then wished she had used a singular pronoun. She didn’t want anyone, least of all Max, to think she was his date for the evening. “You look gorgeous as always,” she told the woman quickly, hoping no one had caught the slip. Dee Dee seemed to sparkle. Well into her forties, she passed for thirty, thanks to a plastic surgeon in Hilton Head that she kept on call.

  “Where is Frankie?” Max asked.

  Dee Dee giggled. Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded silly, but Dee Dee’s little-girl quality and naïveté made people, especially her husband, want to take care of her. “He and several of his old wrestling buddies are at the bar. Snakeman, Big John, Choker, and Dirty Deed Dan flew in to celebrate with us.”

  Jamie recognized some of the names as Frankie’s old wrestling buddies. Snakeman had toured with a twenty-foot boa during his wrestling days. “Is there a snake in residence?” Jamie asked, hoping that wasn’t the case.

  Another giggle from Dee Dee. “No, the snake died a while back, and Snakeman decided not to replace him because it made traveling difficult. The snake was just part of the show.”

  Jamie tried to hide her sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was something wrapping itself around one of her ankles.

  Dee Dee offered them a conspiratorial grin. “Wait till you see the cake I ordered.”

  Beenie rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers against his lips. “It’s designed to look like a naked woman. It starts at the shoulders and ends at her navel, and get this, she’s wearing a nipple ring. Tacky, tacky, tacky.”

  Dee Dee pretended to pout, something else she pulled off very well. “You didn’t think the one that looked like a man’s buns was tacky.”

  Beenie struck a pose. “Now that was a work of art.” He shrugged. “Besides, I like men’s buns.” He went on. “Anyway, as I told Dee Dee, this is not the time or place for such decadence. We have visiting dignitaries, and they will probably be offended. I would have chosen something elegant but simple. Less is always more.”

  The waiter came by. Jamie grabbed another glass of wine. Max grinned.

  “Oh, Beenie, stop acting like an old maid and loosen up a bit,” Dee Dee said. “It’s not going to kill you to have a little fun now and then.”

  Jamie couldn’t help but smile as Dee Dee and Beenie continued to fuss. Dee Dee had hired Beenie away from an exclusive spa in Hilton Head. They were inseparable, but they tended to argue like brother and sister.

  “And guess what else we ordered from the bakery?” Dee Dee said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Aphrodisiac-laced brownies. Everybody in town is shocked that Lyle Betts is making them, but he claims he can’t bake them fast enough. Isn’t that a scream?”

  Jamie wasn’t about to tell her she had already tried them. “Oh, here’s the birthday boy now,” she said as Frankie joined them. Standing well over six and a half feet, with a barrel of a chest, Frankie Fontana struck an imposing figure. Jamie had not known Frankie in his wrestling days, but as a teenager, Max had seen him in the ring a number of times and assured her he had been quite formidable. Now, having been retired more than ten years, Frankie wore a good-natured smile and easygoing attitude that made him appear as harmless as a kitten.

  “Glad you could come,” Frankie said, pumping Max’s arm enthusiastically and giving him a hearty slap on the back. He hugged Jamie lightly as though realizing his own strength.

  “Happy birthday,” Jamie said and Max seconded it.

  Frankie grinned from ear to ear, looking much like an overgrown kid despite his graying temples. “I guess Dee Dee told you about the cake. Snakeman is going to remove the nipple ring with his teeth, and then we’re going to have arm-wrestling matches in the kitchen. Better place your bets while there’s still time.”

  Beenie looked aghast. “Do you realize the lieutenant governor is here?” he hissed.

  “Yeah, he’s the one taking up the bets,” Frankie said.

  Dee Dee patted her husband’s hand. “Well, I’ll put my money on you any time, sweetie,” she said. He kissed her lightly on the lips although it was obvious he would have preferred something more passionate. Twenty years of marriage had not dampened their desire for each other.

  Frankie looked at Jamie. “I’m especially glad to see you. Dee Dee has a dilemma.”

  “Frank
ie’s right,” Dee Dee said. “I need to find a cause.”

  “A cause for what?” Jamie asked.

  Dee Dee giggled. “You know, a cause. Now that Frankie’s the new mayor, I think I should make some sort of contribution to this town.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Jamie told her friend. “You could volunteer at the hospital.”

  “Eeyeuuw!” Dee Dee shuddered.

  “Dee Dee doesn’t like being around sick people,” Frankie explained. “We wouldn’t want her to catch any germs.”

  “There’s a telephone number in the phone book for people wanting to volunteer their time,” Jamie offered. “You could call them and see what they need. I’m sure you’ll find something that interests you.”

  Dee Dee suddenly brightened. “I could work for a hotline service. You know, help people out who have personal problems. I’m a good listener.”

  Jamie and Max exchanged looks. Jamie couldn’t imagine Dee Dee trying to solve anyone’s problems. God bless her, but Dee Dee’s answer to everything was a new piece of fine jewelry or a shopping trip to New York.

  “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m hungry,” Frankie announced. “Let’s grab some grub.”

  A few minutes later, Max and Jamie carried their plates and glasses of wine to one of the love seats adorned in faux leopard. Dee Dee had decorated the room in a jungle theme, complete with animal-skin sofas, banana plants, and wooden giraffes. Max sat close enough so that their thighs touched. It didn’t go unnoticed by Jamie.

  “Max, we really need to talk,” she said, trying to ignore the tingling that started at her hip bone and spread right down to her painted toenails. Her stomach took a nosedive as she imagined his hair-roughened thighs touching hers without benefit of clothes. Lord, what the man did to her!

  “You smell nice,” he said.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t want to think about how good he smelled. She tried to remember what she had been saying before he’d touched her and her mind had taken leave. “I’m, uh, really concerned about Luanne Ritter’s murder and that the personals section may be connected to it. I told Lamar I’d pull the ads, but he disagreed. He’s afraid if the murder had something to do with the ads, we might lose the killer. I think it’s too risky.”

  “Give me a few more details,” he said.

  Jamie told him about her conversation with Lamar, trying not to leave anything out.

  “We’re going to have to work fast, Swifty,” he said.

  “We’ll have to work at night, after the office is closed. Nobody is supposed to know. Not even Vera.”

  “What about the production staff?”

  “They never come up front. Besides, even if they did, they’d have no idea what we were working on.”

  “You have records of the people who’ve written in?”

  Jamie nodded. “I keep them locked in my office for confidentiality’s sake. Vera pitched the fit of all fits when I told her she wasn’t privy to the information, but you know how she loves to gossip.” Jamie paused. “By the way, I lent her the red Mustang. Her old car gave out on her.”

  He grinned. “Does she drive it with the top down?”

  God, if only he wouldn’t smile like that, Jamie thought. She could handle almost anything but those bone-melting smiles. “Yes. She even got a new haircut so the wind wouldn’t mess up her hair so badly.”

  “I can’t wait to see that.” He glanced around the room. “Tell you what. We’ll wait until the birthday cake is served, then slip out and drive to the office.” He suddenly smiled. “Unless you need to get your date home in time for his curfew.”

  Jamie shot him one of her looks.

  FRANKIE’S CAKE WAS ROLLED OUT ON A SERVING cart an hour later, and the guests gathered around and sang “Happy Birthday,” even as some gasped at the sight of the naked figure of a woman with size-D breasts. Frankie blew out his candles and hugged Dee Dee as everyone clapped. Snakeman made a production of removing the nipple ring with his teeth and received a rousing applause.

  “Speech!” someone shouted from across the room.

  Frankie laughed. “I’d have thought you guys had heard enough of my speeches during the mayoral campaign,” he said. “Okay, but I’ll make it short. First of all, I’d like to thank you all for being here to share my birthday. Dee Dee and I are very lucky to have so many friends. And because we consider all of you friends, I would like to make an important announcement.”

  Max and Jamie looked at each other and shrugged.

  Frankie paused and smiled tenderly at Dee Dee. She beamed. “After all these years, my wife and I are expecting a baby.”

  Everyone clapped. Jamie looked at Max. “Well, there goes that perfect figure she’s worked so hard to keep,” she said, knowing Dee Dee went bananas if she gained a pound.

  Max merely grinned. “Sounds like she and Frankie have been eating brownies.”

  MAX AND JAMIE LEFT THE PARTY SHORTLY AFTERward, but not before they’d offered Frankie and Dee Dee their congratulations.

  “I’m going to be an uncle,” Max said, his tone incredulous, as they pulled away from the Fontana house, which was really an estate. An estate on which sat a salmon-colored house that Frankie claimed was pink and caused a lot of snickering from his wrestling buddies who referred to it as the Pink Palace.

  Jamie still couldn’t believe the news. “Dee Dee is going to have to give up her rigid dieting. She’s eating for two now.”

  “Hello, Jamie,” a voice called from the dashboard. “What’s this about Max being an uncle?”

  Jamie smiled. “Hey, I’ve missed you, Muffin,” she said to the voice-recognition computer that ran Max’s business from a dashboard that was more complicated than most jets; thanks to a team of first-rate computer whizzes. Max had hired them away from top government contractors, and with his help, they’d created the car’s instrumentation using state-of-the-art equipment.

  Spread out among luxury automotive goodies like a tachometer, an altimeter, and a global positioning satellite system were a highly enhanced PDA, a keyboard, a digital speech-recognition module, a photo-quality printer, fax, satellite phone, HDTV display screen, and a full video-conferencing suite, all operated by a high-powered computer that was smaller than an ashtray. “She” had a Marilyn Monroe voice, but because she was constantly fed information from a team of experts, she was the only one capable of matching Max’s genius.

  Not only that, Max had created in her technology that was able to make judgment calls, not based on data but on simple human emotion. His competitors, including the federal government, claimed it couldn’t be done. Now they wanted to buy that technology.

  “Dee Dee’s pregnant,” Jamie said at last.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Max said. “We can expect drastic changes in the Fontana household.”

  “Wait a minute,” Muffin said, “I thought she was going through menopause.”

  Jamie smiled, although she was still stunned by the news. “You ever heard of a change-of-life baby? It happens.”

  “How’s she taking the news?”

  “She looked thrilled,” Jamie said, “and I think she’ll make a wonderful mother. Dee Dee is very softhearted. And Frankie is going to enjoy spoiling the little tyke.”

  “I’m going to start looking into all the best baby books,” Muffin said. “I’ll get every piece of data I can, then Dee Dee and I will talk.”

  “I can’t wait to see her in maternity clothes,” Jamie said. “I’m sure Beenie will insist on the best designer money can buy.”

  Max gave her one of his slow easy smiles. “You sound a little exuberant there, Swifty. Sounds like you wouldn’t mind having a little bambino of your own. You might need to give it some thought, what with that ticking biological clock thing that women worry so much about.”

  “My clock is ticking just fine, Max,” she said, “and no, I don’t think I’m ready for motherhood. I can’t even raise a dog properly, but at least he wo
n’t be sitting in some therapist’s office thirty years from now complaining what a crummy job I did.”

  “Ah, Jamie, you’d be a great mom,” he said.

  “Really?” The sincerity in his voice touched her.

  “Excuse me,” Muffin said. “I think we’re missing something here. A father, maybe?”

  Max and Jamie locked gazes. “How is Fleas, by the way?” Max asked.

  Jamie thought he’d done a clumsy job of changing the subject. “I just had him neutered.”

  “See, that makes you a responsible pet owner,” Max said.

  “Uh, Muffin,” Jamie began, “back to love and marriage and baby carriages, how’s your love life?” Muffin had been having an on-again off-again online romance with a laptop computer at MIT. Max had also programmed Muffin with a personality. She had attitude.

  “We’re sort of taking a break from each other,” Muffin said. “I think I intimidate him. I think he’s chatting with someone else.”

  “He’ll be back,” Max said. “A smart man never walks away from a good thing.”

  Jamie felt his eyes on her, but she didn’t dare look his way. As she had told Fleas, their relationship was complicated. “I suppose you told Muffin what’s going on in Beaumont,” she said, realizing she had been the one to change the subject this time. Each time things got too personal between them, one or both of them backed off. Besides, if Max started sweet-talking her, they’d never make it to the newspaper office.

  “Yeah, what do you think?” Muffin asked.

  “I think I’m going to feel guilty for the rest of my life if my personals section is involved in that poor woman’s murder.”

  “You can’t take everything Lamar Tevis says as fact,” Muffin said. “We’re not dealing with Colombo. Do you have backup info on the people writing the ads?”

  Jamie felt herself nod even though she knew Muffin couldn’t see her. “Yeah, I have to keep the letters on file in case someone gets a response.”

  “Anybody else have access to them?” Muffin asked.

  “Not even Vera.”