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  "But why go after you and Jamie?"

  "Because it's impossible to get to you, what with all the security you've got. And the powers that be will suspect I'm going to help you look into it, which I have every intention of doing. They know I have the resources to do it right."

  "This is nothing like wrestling," Frankie said. "At least I could look across the ring and see my opponent." He shook his head sadly. "What can I do to help?"

  * * * * *

  Jamie felt somebody watching her. She opened her eyes and bolted upright in the bed. "What the hell?"

  Beenie screamed and almost tripped on his own two feet jumping back. "Oh, Lordy, you scared me half to death!" he cried. "My heart is going pitter-patter, pitter-patter. I almost weeweed on myself."

  "Beenie, don't you ever slip up on me like that," Jamie said, pulling a baseball bat from beneath the covers. "You're lucky I didn't bash your brains."

  He eyed the bat and cocked one slender hip, planting his hand on it as though miffed. "Wherever did you get that weapon?"

  "Deedee gave it to me. Do you have a specific reason for slipping into my room without knocking?"

  "Mr. Fontana asked me to check and see if you were awake."

  "I am now. What's going on?"

  "You know I don't delve into other people's business."

  "I'm waiting, Beenie."

  "Okay, okay, your fiance is here."

  "Phillip? Here?"

  "Yes, and he's looking very dapper this morning, dressed in a navy pin-striped suit and crisp white dress shirt that shows off his tan. Of course, the man doesn't know the first thing about choosing ties. It's burgundy, for heaven's sake." Beenie sighed. "But what can I do? I've certainly dropped enough hints. Anyway, he looks worried."

  "What time is it?"

  "Seven."

  Jamie climbed from the bed, unabashed in her thin nightgown. "Tell him I'll be right down."

  "Okay, but it's not my job, and I'm not getting paid for it. The housekeeper in this place is a lazy slut, if you ask me."

  Jamie ignored him and reached for a bathrobe as Beenie hurried away. Donning the robe, she checked her hair and general appearance in the mirror. Not great, but it would have to do. Downstairs, she found Phillip sipping coffee at the dining room table, deep in conversation with Max and Frankie. This time his strawberry-blond hair was perfectly combed.

  "Jamie!" Phillip stood and reached for her, hugging her tightly against him. "I came as soon as I heard the news. Are you okay?"

  "Just a minor cut, Phillip," she said, loving the feel of his clean-shaven jaw against her cheek. His gray eyes looked concerned. "It's no big deal, really. How did you find out?"

  "Vera called me. She went in early this morning and saw the crime-scene tape. She tried to reach you at home. When you didn't answer she called me, and I called Lamar. He explained the situation, told me you were staying here."

  Jamie had planned to call Vera as soon as she'd had a cup of coffee. She knew how the woman fretted over her. "Vera knows I'm okay, right?"

  "Yes. I called her back and promised her I'd come right over. My mother is frantic, too. She said to pack you up and bring you home immediately. You'll be safe there."

  That was the last thing Jamie needed at the moment. Annabelle would make such a fuss over her that Jamie wouldn't get a minute's peace. The woman would insist on keeping her locked inside the house. Jamie would be forced to eat stuff like liver pate and those tiny cucumber sandwiches she hated and Annabelle would discuss every minute detail of the wedding plans. Jamie shot Frankie a pleading look.

  "Jamie is welcome to stay here as long as she likes," he said. "The grounds are crawling with security, and I'm hiring more. Under the circumstances, I think it's the safest place for her."

  Jamie silently thanked him.

  "It's up to you, honey," Phillip said, "but you know you're welcome anytime." He paused. "You'll be living there soon anyway. We'll have an entire wing to ourselves."

  Jamie had misgivings about living on the Standish estate, but she figured she'd give it a shot since the family employed a cleaning staff and Jamie didn't have time for that sort of thing. She also wasn't crazy about having to dress up for dinner, but it didn't seem like much of a sacrifice when somebody else was doing the cooking and cleaning up afterward.

  The housekeeper offered Jamie a cup of coffee, and she accepted it. "Would you like something to eat?" Frankie asked, motioning to a large platter of fresh-cut fruit on the table, beside which sat a basket of sweet rolls and bagels. "The cook can fix you eggs and bacon if you like."

  Jamie shook her head. "I'm not a breakfast person."

  Frankie chuckled. "Neither is Deedee. But that's because she sleeps till lunchtime."

  Jamie took a seat next to Phillip. She glanced across the table and found Max watching her curiously. "Phillip, I assume you've met Frankie's brother-in-law, Max Holt."

  Phillip smiled. "Yes. He tells me he was helping out at the paper last night when the incident occurred. I'm glad you weren't alone at the time of the shooting."

  "I'll bet he didn't tell you he saved my life."

  Phillip looked surprised. "No."

  "If he hadn't pushed me down on the floor when the shooting started, I would be riddled with bullets this morning."

  "I guess I owe you a world of thanks," Phillip told Max.

  Max wasn't looking at Phillip. He was staring at Jamie, an amused look on his face. "My pleasure."

  "Does anyone have any thoughts as to why the shooting occurred?" Phillip asked. "Do you think it's politically motivated?"

  "That's what we're trying to find out," Max told him.

  Frankie looked at Jamie. "I wish you hadn't endorsed me. Not that I don't appreciate it, but you may have put yourself at risk. It might be better if you remained neutral from here on out."

  "I've never had a neutral thought in my life," she said. "I'm not about to start now."

  Frankie sighed heavily. "Or maybe this person is after Max," he said. "I threatened to look into missing tax dollars. People will assume Max is here to help me, and anybody who has heard of him knows he's capable of getting the information. Could be I put both of you in danger," he added, shaking his head.

  "I'll see that you get all the cooperation you need with regard to looking into the matter," Phillip told Max. "It's the least I can do for the man who risked his own life to save my fiancee."

  A tired-looking Deedee appeared on the stairs looking like a princess. Beenie followed, holding her little Maltese dog, and helping Deedee down slowly, as though he feared she might fall. He was dressed casually in white slacks with razor-sharp creases, and a navy Ralph Lauren oxford shirt.

  "What's going on?" Deedee asked. "How come you people are up so early? You're not eating at this hour, are you?" She shuddered.

  Frankie jumped from the table and put his arm around his wife. "You didn't have to get up, sweetheart."

  "I heard voices. I was afraid something else had happened."

  "Our Jamie is safe as a bug in a rug," Frankie said, pulling out her chair. "Look, honey, Phillip is here."

  Deedee smiled wearily. "I guess you heard, huh?"

  Phillip nodded. "First thing this morning."

  Beenie hurried into the kitchen with Choo-Choo. When he came out he was carrying a cup of Deedee's favorite Frappuccino. "I'm taking Choo-Choo out for his morning potty."

  "It's been a while since we've seen you, Phillip," Deedee said. "You and Jamie never come to dinner anymore."

  "I would come more often, but Jamie is always busy with the newspaper. One of the drawbacks of being engaged to a workaholic," he added with a smile. He reached across the table and squeezed Jamie's hand. "Try scheduling a honeymoon around her work schedule."

  "You should talk," Jamie said.

  "I hope the two of you slow down once you're married," Frankie said. "Take a little time to stop and smell the roses."

  Phillip chuckled. "I'm going to insist Jamie quit work immediatel
y so she can join the garden club and attend teas and luncheons with my mother." He looked at Jamie. "Naturally you'll want to get involved with her charity work."

  "Yeah, right, Phillip," Jamie muttered, even though she knew he was teasing. "How about I invite the garden club over to my place and see how good I am at growing weeds?"

  She happened to glance in Max's direction. He gave her a private smile. She suspected he knew she would never be satisfied sitting home playing hostess or heading up garden committees.

  "Jamie is very driven," Deedee said. "I respect that about her."

  "I'm very proud of her," Phillip said, "but I'd like to see her have more fun in life. I plan to spoil her."

  Once again, Jamie felt Max's eyes on her. "That's just it, Phillip. I love having my own newspaper."

  He patted her hand. "I know." He checked his wristwatch. "Uh-oh, I have a client in half an hour. Are you sure you're okay?" he asked Jamie.

  "I'm perfectly fine. Now go to work and stop worrying about me."

  "Are you planning to go into the office today?" he asked.

  "I probably need to talk to Lamar first."

  "Just call me on my cell phone." Phillip kissed her lightly. "Frankie, Deedee, thanks for coffee. Max, it was a pleasure meeting you. Call me and we can have a drink at my club."

  Max nodded.

  Frankie walked Phillip out. When he returned he held the newspaper. "Neither rain nor hail nor a drive-by shooting prevents our newspaper from getting out."

  Jamie accepted another cup of coffee as Frankie perused the paper. She dreaded calling Vera, knowing the woman would somehow blame her for the shooting incident.

  "Are there any sales, sweetie?" Deedee said.

  Frankie looked. "Aw, Bates's Furniture is having a liquidation sale. Everything in the store is half price. I don't know if they have French provincial furniture, though."

  Jamie looked up from her coffee cup. "What did you say?"

  "And Beaumont Paints is having a going-out-of-business sale," Frankie added. "I didn't know they were going out of business. This might be a good time to repaint the house, Deedee." He winked at Max.

  "Let me see that," Jamie said, reaching for the newspaper. The two ads together took up a full page. "Oh, no!"

  "What is it?" Max said.

  "I never saw these advertisements."

  He got up, rounded the table and glanced over her shoulder. "Those are the two ads I told you I put in at the last minute. Vera handed them to me on her way out."

  The color drained from Jamie's face. "Double damn!"

  "What's wrong, honey?" Deedee asked.

  "I can't believe she did this to me," Jamie said. "I'm going to kill her. I'll kill her with her own gun, that's what I'll do. That way it'll look like suicide."

  "Do I sense a problem?" Max asked.

  Jamie briefly filled them in.

  Max stared at her in disbelief. "You had the place painted and furnished for my visit? Why?"

  "I didn't want you to see how bad it looked."

  "You mean it looked worse before it was redecorated?"

  She shot him a death look but went on to explain. "Vera asked Tom and Herman, well, actually, she threatened them, to give the place a little face-lift, and that's how they responded."

  "Oh, Jamie," Deedee cooed, patting her hand. "I would have decorated it for you."

  Jamie could only imagine the results had Deedee been in charge, and she immediately felt ashamed. "Tom and Herman are going to sue my pants off. I need to call my lawyer."

  "Let me see if I can talk to these guys first," Max said.

  Beenie rushed through the swinging door with Choo-Choo. "Here's your mama," he told the small dog, placing him in Deedee's outstretched arms.

  "Did he go?" she asked.

  "Oh, yes! Choo-Choo is a very good boy. I gave him his treat, brushed his teeth and coat, and then I sprayed him with doggie deodorant."

  "Mama is very proud of her little boy," Deedee exclaimed, kissing the pooch on his nose.

  She suddenly yawned. "I'm going back to bed. I can't handle a crisis this early in the morning. Besides, I feel bags growing beneath my eyes."

  "I'll get you an eye mask from the freezer," Beenie said, hurrying through the swinging door once more.

  Deedee turned to Jamie with a look of determination on her face. "Honey, I insist you stay with us for a while. At least until we find the guy who shot out your window last night."

  "I'll be fine," Jamie said.

  Deedee looked at her husband. "Frankie, make her stay."

  "You have to stay," Frankie said. "Deedee will worry."

  "We can run by your place later so you can pick up some clothes," Max offered. "I'm going into town anyway."

  Jamie debated whether or not to remain in the Fontana household. She had been scared the night before, but the sun shining through the dining room window made her feel as though everything were going to be okay. Besides, she liked being in her own place. "I'm not afraid of being alone," she said.

  Deedee leaned closer. "You know Phillip will have a hissy fit if you stay at your place," she said in a conspiratorial manner. "He and Annabelle will march right up to your doorstep and drag you home with them. You won't be able to wear jeans because you won't blend. You'll have to wear dresses."

  "Eeyeuuw!" Jamie said.

  "Yeah, I figured that would settle it. Besides, you've got a baseball bat under your bed, and I've got a rolling pin on my night table. Ain't nobody going to mess with us, sister."

  Jamie looked at Max. The smile on his face told her he was glad she was staying. She was definitely going to have to put Max Holt in his place.

  Chapter Five

  Jamie tried not to worry about a possible lawsuit as she dialed the city police. She was put through to Lamar, who told her it would be okay to go back into the building.

  "My deputies are over there now looking around in case we missed anything last night. They'll keep an eye on the place for a few days. Also, I'm going to have to question your employees, if that's okay."

  "That's fine." Jamie hung up and dialed Vera, who answered on the first ring.

  "You must've really made someone mad this time," Vera said, before Jamie spoke. "What in the world did you do?"

  "Vera Bankhead, don't you dare start on me. Have you lost your mind? You've opened me up for a lawsuit from Tom and Herman."

  "Oh, that," Vera said, as though it were no big deal. "Tom and Herman wouldn't dare sue us."

  She didn't sound very confident.

  "You're going to print a retraction, and an apology. But first, you're going over to Tom's and Herman's stores and apologize to them personally."

  "And if I refuse?"

  Jamie paused abruptly. She loved Vera like a mother, but the woman had crossed the line and left the newspaper vulnerable to legal problems. Still, she couldn't fire her. She took a deep breath. "You won't get the raise I was planning to give you with your new job title."

  "You never said anything about a raise or a promotion."

  "I wanted to surprise you."

  The woman on the other end was quiet for a moment. "What's my new title?"

  Jamie sighed. "Assistant editor. I want you to work more closely with Mike and me. Mostly Mike."

  Vera seemed to ponder it. "I'll think about it."

  "And I might put you in charge of selling advertisement if that part-time guy doesn't start doing a better job."

  "How much of a raise are we talking about?"

  "I'll let you know as soon as I look at our budget. But first you need to tell Tom and Herman you're sorry."

  Vera grumbled under her breath. "I'll work on it."

  * * * * *

  Jamie came downstairs wearing a pair of Deedee's jeans that were a bit on the snug side, and a cotton pullover that molded nicely to her breasts.

  Max smiled at the sight. "You ready to go?"

  Jamie nodded and followed him out to his car. "I spoke with Lamar," she said, once they
were on their way. "He's going to have deputies watching the place."

  Max nodded. "Muffin, rise and shine. We've got work to do."

  "And a hearty good morning to you, Max," Muffin replied. "I'm fine, how are you?"

  Jamie couldn't hide her amazement. "She's being sarcastic."

  "Good morning, Miss Swift," Muffin said. "I hope you rested well considering all the turmoil last night. Is your leg better?"

  Jamie stared, dumbfounded. "I'm, uh, fine, thank you." She covered her face. "I'm talking to a computer."

  "At least she's being nice to you," Max said. "Okay, Muffin, now that we've exchanged pleasantries, would you mind looking up the number to Bates's Furniture? I want to talk to Herman Bates."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

  "What are you doing?" Jamie asked Max.

  "I'm trying to kill two birds with one stone. We need new furniture, and we need to suck up to Herman Bates and the other fellow."

  "Tom Brown."

  "Right."

  "I can't afford to redecorate."

  "But I can. Besides, I need the tax write-off."

  Jamie shook her head. "You know, between you and Vera I don't stand a chance."

  "I've got Herman Bates on hold, Max," Muffin said. "The Bates brothers seem to have this town tied up. There's a Bates's Computer and Office Supply store, a Bates's Furniture, and a Bates's Builder's Supply."

  "Muffin is right," Jamie said. "The Bates family owns half the town. They've got the power and the resources to wipe me from the face of the earth."

  "Now we have to find out how greedy they are. Muffin, put Mr. Bates through."

  A gruff voice answered.

  "Good morning, Mr. Bates," Max said. "I appreciate your holding."

  "Is this Maximillian Holt?" he asked. "The guy who makes all those big business deals that I read about in Fortune?"

  "Yep, that's me."

  "Man oh man. What can I do for you?"

  "Well, Herman, I'd like to do some business with you and your family while I'm in town."

  "You're talking to the right guy."