All at once Max came up behind her. She'd not heard him get up or cross the room. She'd simply felt a shift in the air, the sudden involuntary tensing of her body, and she knew he was close. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and her body reacted immediately.
"Jamie?"
"Leave it alone, Max," she said, stepping away. She knew she didn't have to clarify her statement.
"And if I refuse?"
She turned and faced him. "I'm not giving you a choice. I've made myself clear all along. I'm not interested."
He studied her. "Are you really that much in love with Phillip?"
"Of course I am."
"The kind of love Frankie and Deedee share?"
It was ironic that Max should ask the same question she'd asked herself earlier. "Why are you so concerned about my relationship with Phillip?"
"Because I know what it's like to marry the wrong person."
"And that's what you think I'm doing?"
He shrugged. "I don't see a whole lot of passion between you and your fiance."
"I'm content with Phillip. We might not share this great passion you speak of, but we share the things that count. We love each other, and we have a lot in common. We're comfortable together, and I enjoy his family. I've always wanted to be part of a large family, Max."
"What happened to you, Jamie?"
His voice was soft, coaxing, inspiring a feeling of confidence. Jamie fought it, but he was so sincere that she felt compelled to answer. She sighed heavily. "I don't like to rehash my past, but if I tell you will you promise to leave me alone?"
"Okay."
"My dad wasn't well, Max. He wasn't emotionally fit, so to speak. I guess he never got over losing my mother. Or maybe he'd always had problems, I don't know. Maybe that's why my mother left him. He and I never discussed it, but he was seriously depressed most of the time."
"That's why you came home instead of going with a bigger newspaper, isn't it?"
"He needed me. Wouldn't you have done the same if a family member was desperately ill?"
He looked thoughtful. "I'm glad I've never been faced with that kind of decision. Had I been in your predicament I would have tried to find a way to make it work for both of us, but that's easy for me to say because I didn't live it."
"I like knowing from one day to the next what to expect, because I never really felt secure growing up." Jamie paused. "I don't regret the past, Max, but I know it has affected a lot of decisions that I make today."
He looked confused. "So you're marrying for financial security?"
"No. Security doesn't come from having a lot of money." She shrugged. "Look, I don't expect you to understand."
"I want you to be happy, Jamie, that's all."
* * * * *
The next morning, Max and Jamie climbed into his car and headed for town.
"I've been thinking," Jamie said.
"About us?" He grinned.
Jamie made an effort not to smile. "Not."
"What's on your mind?"
"This is just a possibility, but I know someone, or rather, I know of someone who is probably capable of skulking around other people's property and not being found."
"I'm all ears."
"They call him Swamp Dog. I don't know his real name, but he's scary as all get-out. Someone once told me if anybody needed any dirty work done, they could count on Swamp Dog."
"Have you ever met him?"
"No. I don't even know if he's still alive, but I know where he used to live. It's an old ramshackle houseboat in the middle of—"
"The swamp?"
"You catch on fast, Holt. Anyway, I had trouble falling asleep last night—"
"You did?" Max looked at her. "Because I had the same problem. I thought about you a lot."
"Actually, I was on edge."
"You know the reason for that, of course."
She looked at him. "I'm sure you're going to tell me it had something to do with you."
He merely grinned.
Jamie did an eye-roll. "Now, how about we get down to business?"
"If you insist."
"Someone got close enough to the house to throw a Molotov cocktail through the window. That's quite a feat considering the property is crawling with security. So, I got to thinking, who would be capable of doing something like that without getting caught?"
"And you came up with this Swamp Dog person."
"Right. And he has the background for it. He was in Special Forces in the military. Word has it he lost it over there."
"Define 'lost it.' "
"Went off the deep end."
"Crazy as a bedbug, huh? Tell me more."
"He's a poacher. He tosses dynamite into the river. It goes off and stuns the fish. They float to the top and he scoops them up with a net. Rumor has it there was an accident, and he lost an eye."
"That would certainly make him easy to find in a crowd. How do you know where he lives?"
"Back in high school, a few of us decided to find out if he even existed. We took a boat out there. We were able to find the houseboat, but the minute we got close somebody started firing shots at us, so we hauled butt."
"You didn't see anybody?"
"No, but the game warden caught word of the poaching and decided to look into it. Somebody found him a few days later in his boat with a bullet between his eyes. Nobody could prove anything, although they suspected Swamp Dog."
"I'm already looking forward to meeting him." Max paused. "I don't know, Jamie. It sounds farfetched. Why would he be after us?"
"Maybe he's being paid to come after us by someone who doesn't want you and Frankie looking into the missing tax dollars but doesn't want to get their own hands dirty. I think it's worth checking out. He's actually the only dangerous sort of guy in the area."
"Okay, we'll pay him a visit."
Jamie laughed. "I don't think Swamp Dog accepts visitors."
"You're saying he's not going to serve us tea and crumpets."
"He may shoot us."
"Maybe I should go alone."
"You'd never find the place."
Muffin came on. "You know, I don't like to tell people what to do, but I'm going to make an exception. This whole thing sounds dangerous."
"How else are we going to find out if Swamp Dog is involved?" Jamie asked.
"I wish you could give me his real name," Muffin replied, "so I could get some information on him."
"I'm not sure anybody knows his real name." Jamie looked at Max. "We'll need a boat to get there. Lucky for us I know someone who has one. I'll try to wrap things up quickly at the office, and we can head out around lunchtime."
"I don't like this," Muffin replied. "Not one bit. You're both asking for trouble."
* * * * *
"You call this a boat?" Max asked some four hours later, as he gazed down at a small skiff that was to carry them down the river.
"You were expecting a yacht, maybe? I don't think the river can accommodate the kind of boat you're accustomed to." Jamie was a bit embarrassed about the boat; she didn't remember it being so rough looking. The color had long ago faded, one seat was broken, and she wasn't sure the motor was powerful enough to get them away from the dock.
"This thing doesn't look as though it should be floating in a bathtub," Max said.
"Tell you what, Holt. Next time you get the boat."
"Next time? Sounds like you're looking for a long-term relationship."
"I'm really glad you're bringing your ego on board." It was going to be a long ride, Jamie told herself, and they could very well be on a wild-goose chase. For all she knew, Swamp Dog could be long dead and buried. "So, are you with me or not?"
"Hey, I wouldn't miss it."
Hitching the straps of her handbag on one shoulder and grabbing the canvas bag containing supplies Max had purchased—snacks, flashlights, first-aid kit, insect repellent, and hiking up the rubber knee-length wading boots she wore—Jamie carefully stepped into the boat. It rocked ba
ck and forth. She gripped the map Muffin had printed out so they could study the river closely beforehand. She was glad she'd taken the time to change into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Although the sleeves were now rolled up to her elbows, the added clothing would protect her from insects. That, and the mosquito repellent, she reminded herself.
A bemused Max watched as Jamie struggled to keep her balance. Finally, she grabbed a seat and held on, her behind perched high, waiting for the boat to stop rocking. Max arched one brow. "You don't do a lot of boating, do you?" he asked.
Jamie sat down. "Okay, so I'm not a boat person. Just get in the darn thing so we can be on our way."
"Let's get something straight, Swifty," Max said, trying to affect a stern look and doing a poor job of it. "The one operating the motor is the captain. That makes you the first mate. You don't have the authority to talk to me like that."
"Oh, so this is about power," Jamie said. "You forget, Holt. I'm the one who found the boat, and I know how to get to Swamp Dog's place. Face it, you need me." Even as she said it she knew better. Jamie suspected Max Holt could do anything he set his mind to.
"You're right," he said. "I'm helpless without you." He climbed into the boat and reached for the small Styrofoam ice chest filled with soft drinks, as well as the two gas tanks he had purchased and filled for the trip. He'd even thought to bring flashlights. "Go ahead and untie us," he said, once he'd settled in.
Jamie did as she was told. Once she'd pulled the rope in she shoved them away from the dock.
Max reached for the small handle that was attached to the cord on the motor and yanked it. It took several attempts to start the motor, but it finally chugged to life. He steered the boat down the river. "Am I going the right way?"
"Very funny. It's obvious there is only one way in and one way out."
"Just checking since you're supposed to be our guide."
They rode for close to an hour before Jamie pointed toward a thin tributary. She grabbed one of the oars and stuck it in the water. "Stay in the center," she warned. "The water is shallow here."
"Good thing you brought that sophisticated depth finder," Max said. "I wouldn't want to run aground." Finally, he cut the motor, tilted it so the propeller was out of the water, and paddled the rest of the way. The boat nudged against the bank.
Jamie gazed at the green scum that covered the water like a filmy curtain, hiding only heaven knew what that waited just beneath the surface. She suppressed a shudder.
"Now what?" Max asked.
"We walk."
* * * * *
Max tied off the boat. Jamie grabbed her purse, slipped the long strap over her shoulder and waited until Max climbed out. He turned and helped her out. They rolled down their shirtsleeves and sprayed insect repellent on their necks and hands.
"Let's go," he said.
Jamie was already feeling irritable from the heat. There'd been little breeze on the river. It was hot, and her blouse was sweat-soaked and plastered to her back. She found a sturdy tree limb to use as a stick. Hopefully it would offer protection in case she ran into some undesirable creature. Max did the same. "These boots aren't going to mean crap if we meet up with an alligator," she said.
"Then I suggest we avoid them at all cost. Besides, they're more afraid of us than we are them."
"Yeah. That would explain why we're the ones carrying sticks and wearing rubber boots instead of them."
"You're getting testy on me," Max said, "and I may as well tell you it's not attractive."
Jamie bit back her reply. She was determined to show Max Holt she was made of tough stuff.
They started up the bank. It wasn't long before they found themselves in shallow water. Jamie became even more anxious as the murky water climbed to her ankles.
"Are you okay?" Max asked, noting how she hesitated before taking every step.
"I can think of other things I'd rather be doing right now if that's what you mean."
"This was your idea."
"Do you see anyone else beating a path to investigate the situation? You won't find Lamar Tevis and his deputies combing the swamp looking for a madman."
"I've been meaning to ask you about Lamar," Max said. "He doesn't really seem qualified for the job."
"His daddy was sheriff for a while. He was very popular. Lamar got in on his coattails, so to speak. He does okay for the most part."
"Sounds like the jobs in this town run in families."
"Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out." Jamie jumped at the sight of a thin stick. She could have sworn it was a snake. The thought of looking for Swamp Dog had seemed exciting when she'd first mentioned it. Now she was beginning to regret it.
Jamie tried to concentrate on the scenery, the bald cypress, tupelo, and sweet gum trees. A canopy of vegetation shrouded the area, giving the swamp an eerie feel that sent goose pimples along her arms.
"I wish I had Vera's gun."
"You'd probably only end up shooting yourself in the foot," Max said.
"Hell's bells, I'm going to die anyway." Jamie took a step, felt the mud give beneath her feet, creating a suction noise each time she walked. "Oh, Jeez," she said. "This is so gross. Do you see any snakes? Water moccasins, maybe?"
Max chuckled. "You're acting like a girl, you know."
"I am a girl. Deal with it."
Max grinned. "It's not like I haven't tried. Are you sure we're going in the right direction?"
"I'm not even sure I'm going to live to see nightfall." Jamie paused and looked at her map. "I thought it was around that last bend." The water had risen almost to her knees. "We've had more rainfall than usual the past few months. That can change things."
Max stopped walking and regarded her. "Are you hinting that we might be lost?"
"I'm saying that's a strong possibility."
He sighed. "I should have known better than to agree to this harebrained idea. I'm beginning to think this Swamp Dog business is a crock."
"So why'd you come?"
"Because I knew you were hell-bent on finding this guy, and you'd probably go alone. Somebody has to look after you. You wouldn't last five minutes out here without me. Admit it."
Jamie froze. Something long and black was heading straight for her, and this time it wasn't a stick. "Oh, double damn."
"It's just a simple water snake," Max said.
Jamie didn't so much as breathe as the snake slithered along the water and swam right between her legs. She turned her head as he continued past her. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said. "It's all your fault. You shouldn't have let me talk you into it."
Max was only vaguely aware of her words as his eye caught something. "Quiet," he said. "There's the houseboat."
Jamie looked up. Sure enough, she saw the rugged outlines of a wooden structure through the trees. "That's it," she whispered.
"Maybe you should stay back and let me investigate."
She shook her head. "I've come this far, I'm not backing out now."
They moved soundlessly through the water, although Jamie feared Swamp Dog would hear the steady drumming of her heart and ragged breathing. Finally, they hit dry land. The boat was less than one hundred yards away, rocking gently in the river, less than twenty feet from the shoreline. They circled around and approached it with caution, taking care to stay behind the trees and shrubs. Jamie tried to avoid stepping on sticks, fearing one would snap and attract attention.
"There he is," Jamie whispered so low she could barely hear her own voice. She stared at the rough-hewn man with shoulder-length iron-gray hair and a black patch over one eye. He was bathing in the river beside his boat. They continued walking, taking greater care with every step. Jamie jumped when she heard gunshot. She gasped as a snake flew into the air and fell into the water with a splash. Swamp Dog grabbed it and tossed it on the side of the boat. Then, without warning, he turned and aimed his pistol in their direction. "Out from behind that bush," he said. "Hands in the air."
Chapter E
ight
"We're dead," Jamie said.
"Better do as he says," Max replied.
They raised their hands above their heads and stepped out from behind the bush. "We're not armed," Max said.
"That don't mean jackshit to me," Swamp Dog replied. "You're trespassing. That's enough for me to put a bullet in your head."
"We need help," Jamie said once they'd come within fifty feet of him. "The motor on our boat quit on us. We're stranded."
Swamp Dog didn't lower his gun as he climbed from the water naked as the day he was born. "You picked the wrong guy."
Jamie tried to keep her eyes above his shoulders, but not before she caught sight of his leathery skin and sinewy body. A multitude of purplish scars zigzagged across his chest and abdomen. The left side of his face was disfigured, obviously from the same accident in which he'd lost an eye. The menacing look on his face told her he'd sooner shoot them than not.
"Well, then," Jamie said lightly, "I guess we'll be going. Sorry to have bothered you."
"Make one move and you're dead."
Max turned to Jamie. "Perhaps we should tell him why we're really here."
Jamie nodded. What the heck was he talking about? "Uh, why don't you tell him?"
"Miss Swift owns the Beaumont Gazette," Max said. "She'd like to interview you."
"Is that supposed to excite me?" Swamp Dog reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist.
Jamie just looked at Max. If that was the only plan he had then they were in big trouble. "Uh, yeah," Jamie agreed, thinking anything was better than sudden death. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to let me do a piece on you as a human-interest story."
Swamp Dog lowered his gun, but his gaze never left Jamie's face. "That's bullshit."
"Trust me," Jamie said. "If we were trying to bullshit you we'd have come up with something better. You'll have to admit you're somewhat of a legend in these parts."
It was obvious the man didn't believe a word she said. He waved the gun. "Inside."