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  “She looks strange,” the girl said.

  “She’s not your average hen,” Queenie told her. “This is a special hen. She cost me seventy-five dollars.”

  “You paid seventy-five dollars for a chicken?” Maggie said in disbelief.

  “She’s not a chicken,” Queenie said, clearly insulted. “This hen comes from championship stock. She has breeding. She’s a blue blood.”

  Everest held up the carrier and talked to the bird inside. “Her name is Flo.”

  Queenie gave a sigh. “I guess we have no choice but to keep her out in that chicken coop with the others.”

  “You want me to take her out there, Granny Queenie?” he asked.

  “Yes, Everest. Be very gentle with her,” Queenie said. “And watch where you’re walking. You don’t want to drop her and shake up anything inside of her that might interfere with her egg production.”

  “All the floodlights are on,” Maggie said, but handed Everest a flashlight to help. Once again, she disarmed the security, waited for him to step outside, and then turned it back on. “This security business is driving me crazy,” she said irritably. “I feel like I’m guarding a bank vault.” She went back to preparing a cold-cuts platter of turkey, fat-free ham, fat-free cheese, and carrot sticks.

  “Not in a cooking mood tonight, huh?” Queenie said, looking over Maggie’s shoulder at the simple fare.

  “Nope.”

  “You sound tired.”

  “Yep.”

  “Uh-oh, somebody is in a bad mood tonight,” Queenie said, and turned for the table.

  Mel sat in one of the chairs, an annoyed look on her face. “Ask Mom why she’s in a bad mood.”

  “Okay, why?”

  “Because she had to undo one of your hexes,” Mel said before Maggie could speak.

  Queenie gave Maggie a questioning look. “What’s she talking about?”

  “Mike Henderson is covered with a rash and he was practically clawing himself because he was itching so badly. He already had blisters popping up. If his fever had gotten any higher I would have had to get him to the ER.”

  “Sounds like chicken pox.”

  “Exactly.” Maggie turned to Queenie. “The problem is, you threatened to do something to him last night so he swears you put a hex on him. The fact that he’s a hypochondriac and planned to report you to the police made it even more fun.”

  “I didn’t do anything to that smart-aleck boy.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Maggie said, raising her voice slightly. “With some people just saying it is enough, but you already know that. So I spent two hours trying to make him think I was undoing a hex.”

  “And Abby Bradley has laryngitis,” Mel said.

  Queenie smiled. “Now that’s some good news.”

  “Like you didn’t already know,” Mel said.

  Queenie crossed her arms and gave the girl her most formidable look. “Are you smart-mouthing your aunt Queenie, young lady? You know I don’t put up with that nonsense.”

  Mel flounced from the room.

  “Somebody needs to yank the attitude right out of that girl,” Queenie said.

  “And another thing,” Maggie said, this time her voice little more than a whisper. “Did you go against my wishes and put some kind of spell on Zack and me?”

  “What kind of spell?”

  Maggie blushed. “Something to make us, um, attracted to each other?”

  Queenie grinned. “I knew it! I knew you two were hot for each other. It’s well past time you got hot for a man, and that’s one hot man.”

  “If you did something I want it undone,” Maggie said. “And don’t expect me to try to protect you the next time somebody threatens to report you to the police. I’m a medical doctor. I can’t go around removing hexes. I don’t even know how to remove hexes, for Pete’s sake!”

  “First thing, you need some uncrossing oil,” Queenie began.

  “I don’t want to know how to remove hexes,” Maggie said. “I have enough to worry about. And while we’re on the subject, no more boiling basil or anything else in this house,” she said. “And no more making people hot for each other!” she added emphatically.

  “How am I supposed to protect you and Mel from that madman if I’m not allowed to use my special talents?”

  “That’s why Zack is here.”

  “A gun may not be enough.”

  A tap on the back door forced Maggie to deal with the alarm system again. Everest stepped inside carrying a lime-green bag with decorative handles. “I don’t think Flo likes it out there,” he said.

  “She’s probably used to living in a four-star chicken coop,” Queenie told him.

  Zack came downstairs. “I heard you down here talking about your new hen,” he said. “Where is she?”

  Queenie opened her mouth to answer, but the words didn’t come out.

  “I put her out back,” Everest said.

  “You shaved,” Queenie said. She looked at Maggie. “You didn’t tell me he shaved. You are so lucky. I wish I had a crazy killer after me so the FBI would send a good-looking man to my house.”

  Maggie had no idea how to respond so she kept quiet. Everest handed Maggie the bag. “I forgot to bring it in earlier. I hope you won’t get mad at me, but I asked my sister about a rinse for Mel’s hair. She gave me the stuff she uses. It has no harsh chemicals, and it washes out after a couple of weeks. It will tone down the orange, that’s all. Oh, and my sister put some makeup in there for Mel too.”

  “Makeup!” Maggie cried. “She’s only thirteen years old, for Pete’s sake.”

  “Well, it’s not like real makeup. It’s a tinted moisturizer, and it’s good for the skin.” When Maggie looked doubtful, he went on. “I’m telling you, I know all about women’s products and how to use them. Who do you think my sister practiced on?” He looked at Zack. “I hope this won’t get in the way of me being a big-time FBI agent.”

  “No problem,” Zack said. “Diversity is good.”

  Mel walked into the kitchen. “Is there any chocolate cake left,” she asked Maggie, “or have you already hidden it?” She saw the bag and stepped closer to her mother. “What’s that?”

  “Hair color,” Everest said.

  “For me?” He smiled and she squealed in delight. “Yes!”

  “I’ll color it for you if your mom agrees to let me,” he said. “I’m really good at it.”

  “Please, Mom,” Mel said.

  “You’re sure it will wash out?” Maggie asked Everest.

  “It’ll take two or three weeks of shampooing, but yes. It won’t take me long to put it on her hair.”

  Maggie saw the eager look on Mel’s face. “Okay.”

  Mel threw her arms around Maggie and hugged her, then exchanged a high five with Everest. “We can use the front bathroom,” she told him. “It’s plenty big enough.”

  Maggie shook her head as she opened the refrigerator and began pulling out the condiments. “I hope Everest knows what he’s doing,” she said.

  “He’s the one who gave me my perm,” Queenie said.

  “He’ll make a fine agent,” Zack said.

  Maggie half listened to Queenie sing Everest’s praises as she tried to unclog the tip of a squeeze bottle of mustard with a toothpick. When that didn’t work, she pulled a case knife from a drawer and struggled to pry off the top.

  “Do you need any help over there?” Zack asked. “Looks like that mustard container is kicking your behind.”

  “I can get it.” Maggie gripped the plastic bottle tightly to keep it from slipping from her hands, and she tried once more to free the top. It popped, the lid flew off, and mustard spewed from the bottle and plastered her blouse. “Damn!”

  Queenie looked up. “I have a remedy that will get that stain out.”

  Maggie rinsed the mustard off her hands and wiped her blouse with a paper towel and watched the stain spread. “Excuse me,” she said, “while I slip into something less messy.”

  The
phone rang as soon as Maggie stepped inside her bedroom. She closed her door and headed for it, pulling off her blouse as she went.

  Dr. James McKelvey spoke from the other end. “Dr. Davenport, I thought I should call you,” he said quickly. “Carl Lee Stanton has been in touch with me. Within the last hour,” he added.

  Maggie felt her stomach give a sudden lurch. “Where is he? What did he want?”

  “The call came in on my home phone,” McKelvey said. “It wasn’t a lengthy conversation, and nothing on my caller ID. But the fact he called is a good sign, although I’ll have to admit I never would have expected it.”

  “Did he say anything that might help police find him?”

  “He said if I notified the police he would not call me back,” McKelvey stated flatly. “I have to call them, but—” He paused and sighed. “You know it’ll leak out. Hell, it’ll probably be on the front page of the newspaper within a matter of hours. Carl Lee will find out, and he’ll go into one of his rages, probably kill the first person who steps within firing range.”

  Maggie sank onto her bed. “What are you going to do?”

  He gave a rueful laugh. “I need to get out of the prison system and go back to my ritzy practice and listen to rich people bitch about how much they hate their lives. As for Carl Lee, I don’t know.”

  “Why do you think he called you?” Maggie asked.

  “Hypothetically?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  “A man on the run? Police closing in? Feeling trapped and desperate? All of the above? And maybe searching for a voice of reason?” McKelvey added. “Having said that, I really don’t have a clue,” he added.

  “Do you think he’ll call you back? Do you think he would listen to you?”

  “If he listened to anyone it would be me. I think he’ll call back, but I’m not putting any money on it.”

  “What would you tell him?”

  “I’d try to negotiate his surrender,” McKelvey said, “and see that he was taken in without incident. I’d promise to be there for him. That’s about all I can offer him. That doesn’t mean he would agree to it and certainly not in one or two phone calls. I’m just thinking fewer people would get hurt.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Maggie told him. “I can’t tell you not to call the police.”

  “I need to think. I’ll let you know. Oh, and we never had this conversation.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?” Everest said from the kitchen doorway. “I would like for you to meet the new and improved Miss Melanie Davenport.” He stepped aside and Mel swept into the room.

  “Ta-da!” The girl struck a pose.

  “Oh my God!” Queenie gaped.

  Maggie, in the process of carrying the platter of food to the table, almost dropped it. Her daughter had been transformed.

  Zack leaned back in his chair. “Wow.”

  “Well?” Mel asked, grinning wide at her mother. Behind her, Everest grinned as well. “What do you think?”

  “Um.” Maggie tried to find the right words.

  “No more orange hair!” Mel said. “And Everest cut it; look, it’s all layered. And he showed me how to apply makeup.” At the look Maggie shot her, she hurried on. “Just a teeny-tiny bit to tone down my freckles and bring out my eyes.”

  “It’s very subtle,” Everest said. “It’s called the ‘Barely There’ look.”

  “Mom!” Mel planted her hands on her hips. “Say something!”

  “Um.” Maggie stepped closer. Her daughter’s hair was now a lovely shade of red, cut and styled into a flattering look. Her freckles had been toned down as well, and there was a hint of mascara, but Maggie had to admit it all looked very natural. “Honey, you are beautiful,” she said.

  “Stunning,” Zack said. “If you were twenty years older and knew how to cook, I’d marry you.”

  “Everest’s sister knows all about fashion,” Mel went on excitedly. “He’s going to ask her to help me go through my clothes and—” She paused and looked at her mother. “What?”

  Maggie realized she had tears in her eyes. She was still reeling from her phone call less than an hour ago, and she was unprepared for Mel’s new grown-up look. She smiled and swiped at her tears. “I’m just so happy that—” She laughed self-consciously. “I can’t believe I’m getting teary-eyed over my beautiful daughter. I think I need to blow my nose. Excuse me.” She hurried from the room.

  Queenie folded her arms in front of her as she studied Mel. “You look so good I’m going to have to put together a little something to protect you from the boys.”

  “They already have something like that, Granny Queenie,” Everest said. “It’s called a chastity belt.” He slapped his hand over his mouth, and cut his eyes at Mel. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he whispered.

  “I need to check on Mom,” Mel said, obviously more concerned about her mother than what was being said around her. She disappeared down the hall.

  Maggie was dabbing her eyes with a tissue when Mel tapped on her bedroom door and came in. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yes, honey, I’m fine.” Maggie forced a smile. “I just—” She shrugged and sat on the edge of her bed. “I’ve been selfish, Mel. I should have taken you to that new hair salon in town that everyone is raving about. I should have taken you to the mall in Savannah or Charleston, to a store geared toward young people.”

  Mel patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mom. We can still go to the mall together. I don’t want to hurt Everest’s feelings, but I’d rather you help me pick out clothes instead of his sister.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh. I still have my birthday money. I could even take you to lunch as long as you don’t mind eating a burger.”

  Maggie smiled and touched her daughter’s hair. It was thick and silky and healthy looking, not how she imagined it would look after putting a color on it. “You look very pretty, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. But you need to know, I’ve always felt that way about you.”

  “I’m proud of you, too, Mom.”

  Maggie gazed into her daughter’s green eyes and wondered how proud Mel would be when she learned the truth about her father. “Honey, we need to talk.”

  “Okay, but I’m really hungry. I didn’t eat much of my hot dog after the Elvis guys showed up at our table.”

  “How about we chat after you eat something?”

  Mel started for the door and turned. “Do you think Travis Bradley will notice me now?”

  “What do you mean, now?” Maggie said. “Did you not see the way he was looking at you at Harry’s?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Uh-yeah,” Maggie said, answering like Mel sometimes did.

  Maggie followed Mel into the kitchen and discovered Queenie and Everest had left. She suspected Queenie was annoyed with her. Zack sat at the kitchen table playing solitaire. “FBI guys do a lot of this while on stakeout,” he told Mel, as she prepared her sandwich and a side order of chips and dip.

  They had just finished eating when the phone rang. Mel snatched it up. “Who else is going?” she asked after a moment. “Hold on.” She turned to Maggie. “Caitlin and Emily are going to see the new Johnny Depp movie. It’s PG. Can I go?” When Maggie hesitated, Mel added, “I sorta have to know right now because the movie starts at seven-fifteen.”

  “It’s five till seven now,” Maggie said.

  “This is the soonest they could call. They don’t officially get off restriction until seven on account of they missed the school bus twice last week, and their mom had to take them.”

  “Honey, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Maggie said and looked at Zack.

  “Mom, I need to get out of this house! I can’t go outside and I can’t look out my window.”

  “We could go too,” Zack told Maggie, “and sit in the back row.”

  Mel gave an enormous sigh. “Never mind.”

  “Or park out front and wait for her,” he added.
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  “I can go!” Mel said and hung up. She started from the room and turned. “Could we please not take the van?”

  Maggie made the drive in her car in record time while Zack laid out the rules.

  “Stay with your friends and sit in the first row. If somebody you don’t know approaches you, use this.” He handed her a whistle that hung from a sturdy chain. “See this button on the side? Press it, and I’ll be there in two minutes. Then, blow the hell out of the whistle to attract attention. It’s a good way to scare people off. Hang it around your neck.”

  Mel frowned. “I’ll look like a dork.”

  “Tuck it inside your blouse,” Maggie said, thankful that Zack had such a gadget.

  “We will be parked out front the whole time,” Zack said. “Once the movie ends we’ll pull right up to the steps, and I’ll come in and get you.”

  Mel gave him a pained look. “I want to walk by myself. It’s like twenty feet from the door to the car.”

  He nodded. “Okay, but don’t come out until you see the car.”

  Mel climbed out and hurried to the glass entrance where Caitlin and Emily waited. Zack watched them buy their tickets and disappear through a doorway. “I’ll be right back.” He opened the door.

  Maggie shot him a questioning look. “But where—”

  “I want to know what time the movie ends, and I want to see which theater they’re in.” He climbed out, hit the master lock, and shot her a quick look. “Keep the engine running just in case—”

  Maggie sighed. “I hate this,” she mumbled. She folded her arms across the top of the steering wheel and buried her face in it. Someone knocked on her window. She jumped and snapped her head up and around. A policeman stood outside her door. She lowered it a few inches.

  “Ma’am, you’ll have to move your car. You’re in the fire lane.”

  “Oh.” Maggie glanced at the doors leading inside the theater. “Is it okay if I wait for my friend? He’ll be right out.”

  “As long as you don’t mind me writing you a ticket for illegal parking,” he answered.

  “I’ll move,” she said. She pulled forward and turned down the first aisle, searching for a parking place. She was at the far end of the parking lot when she saw Zack come out. He planted his hands on his hips and looked around. She headed his way.