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“Really?” Destiny asked, not looking too pleased. She glanced around the office, her eyes resting on a bag of golf clubs.

“They’re crowding the back of your mouth. I suggest we set you up with an oral surgeon as soon as possible.”

“Do you play golf, doctor?” she asked.

He glanced at the bag of clubs. “When I have time. My wife and I share custody of our children so my weekends are pretty much taken up with them.”

“So, what do you do for fun?” she asked.

“Well, I hadn’t really thought much about it.”

“Maybe it’s time you started taking care of your own needs. You could start by inviting me to lunch.”

MAX AND JAMIE GRABBED AN EARLY LUNCH AT Maynard’s Sandwich Shop where Donnie Maynard convinced Max his meat-loaf sandwich was the best thing in the world next to indoor plumbing.

“I’ll give it a try,” Max said.

“Make that two,” Jamie told Donnie and wondered if Max had ever eaten a meat-loaf sandwich.

Max paid for the order, and they carried their drinks to a table. The walls inside the shop were of old brick, the tables and chairs battered and scarred, yet sturdy. Max took a sip of his iced tea. As if noting the curious look on Jamie’s face, he arched one brow. “What?”

“When’s the last time you had meat loaf?”

“Are you kidding? My cousin’s wife, Billie, used to cook it all the time.”

“The people who practically raised you?” she asked, remembering he’d mentioned them before.

“Right. I was sixteen years old when I moved in with them. Nick taught me everything I know about the newspaper business and horses; Billie taught me to focus my energy.”

“You lost me on the last part.”

“I was pretty much a juvenile delinquent from the age of five.”

“Too smart for your own good, I’ll bet.”

“Nick was instrumental in breaking my bad habits by having me muck the stalls each time I got into trouble. You ever mucked a horse stall?”

“Nope. Don’t want to, either.”

“Builds character.”

Their sandwiches arrived. Jamie thanked Donnie and waited until he walked away before saying anything. She knew that Max’s parents had pretty much given up on their son; that the only attention he’d gotten was from the servants and during his summer vacations with his cousin Nick. “Do you ever see your parents?”

“I swing by now and then if I’m in the vicinity. They’re older and have more time for me than they used to.” He took a bite of his sandwich and nodded his approval. “Hey, this is good,” he said.

Jamie bit into her sandwich, as well. As usual, Donnie had outdone himself on the meat loaf. “He has a secret recipe. Neither love nor money will get him to part with it.” But her thoughts were elsewhere. She pondered what Max had just said about his parents having time for him now. There had been no bitterness in his voice. He’d obviously come to terms with their relationship. “What about Nick and Billie?” she asked. “Do you see them often?”

“I usually spend holidays with them. They have two kids; Christie and Joel.” He chuckled. “Well, they’re not really kids anymore, Christie is probably about thirty, and Joel is a couple of years younger. They both work for the newspaper. We’re all pretty close.” He smiled.

“Why are you smiling?” Jamie asked.

“I’m thinking about Billie. She goes all out decorating the house for Christmas, and every year she swears it’s going to be her last. Somehow, she ends up doing even more the next year.” He paused. “You would like her. She’s simple and down-to-earth. So is Nick.”

“I’ll bet they’re proud of you.”

Max looked surprised. “Thank you. I believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Well, look at all you’ve accomplished, Max.”

He shrugged. “Nick taught me to go after what I wanted. The only time he disagreed with me was when I told him I was getting married. He and Billie didn’t feel I was ready. It didn’t take me long to realize they were right.”

“Is that why you’re dead set against marriage now?”

“Let’s just say I learned my lesson. I’m in no hurry to repeat that mistake.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Jamie asked. “I mean, look at Frankie and Dee Dee. After twenty years they’re still madly in love.”

“I’d say they’re the exception, as are Nick and Billie.”

They concentrated on their lunch after that, although Jamie realized she didn’t have much of an appetite. She wondered how long it would be before Max became bored with her and moved on, and the thought was not a pleasant one. But she couldn’t think about that right now because she had to work with him to solve Luanne Ritter’s murder.

In the meantime, she needed to protect her heart.

Once they’d finished lunch, they thanked Donnie and headed out the door. Muffin was waiting for them.

“Good thing I don’t take lunch breaks or we wouldn’t get anything done,” she said.

“What’s up?” Max asked.

“The Reverend Heyward claimed he was much too busy to see you, but I was able to get you in at two o’clock, once I hinted that a hefty donation would change hands.”

“Great,” Max said. “That’ll give us time to check out a couple of addresses.” Max reached for a folder beside his seat. He handed it to Jamie. “How about looking at the ad entitled ‘Open to New Experiences’ and giving me the address,” he said. “You know, the guy looking for a discreet relationship?”

Jamie flipped through the file of names and printouts that Muffin had supplied. “Here we go. John Price, age fifty-five, new to Beaumont, recently opened his own accounting firm. He lives on the edge of town. I know the area. Just stay on this road until you hit the main highway.”

Max followed her directions, and they ended up in a rural area. They found the house, a two-story frame with NO TRESPASSING signs on the property, and a Doberman pinscher on a long leash that was attached to the porch rail.

“Well, now, Mr. Price obviously doesn’t want company,” Max said. “What else have we got on him?”

Jamie glanced back at the file. “Like I said, he’s new in town, lived here about three months,” she said. “Been divorced about a year from his second wife. He has a daughter by his first wife; she’s in college. No police record. He left a high-paying position in Atlanta to come here. He’s renting the house.”

Max picked up a pair of binoculars and trained them on the man’s residence. “Interesting. He’s installed a fairly expensive security system on a piece of rental property, and he’s got a man-eating creature guarding the front door. Wonder what he’s got guarding the back?”

“I’m not going to go look,” Jamie said. “I don’t want to arrive at my date with half my face ripped off. Besides, he’s accustomed to living in a large city where the crime rate is high.”

Max looked at her. “Or maybe he’s hiding something. Muffin, do what you have to do, but I want to know if Mr. Price is at work today. I want to have a look inside.”

Jamie gaped. “You’re not going in there?” When Max didn’t respond, she went on. “See, this is why I should never have called you. I should have let Lamar Tevis handle it. You remember Lamar Tevis, our chief of police? He’s the man who’s going to throw you behind bars for breaking and entering.”

“Just for the record, Max,” Muffin said, “I want you to know I’m taking Jamie’s side on this.” She paused for a few minutes, and then came back on the speaker. “Mr. Price is with a client,” she said.

Max grinned. “Perfect. Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

JAMIE WATCHED MAX SLIP AROUND THE SIDE OF the house and disappear. The dog out front barked ferociously. “I hate this,” she said to Muffin. “Max has absolutely no respect for the law. He’s either hacking through firewalls or breaking and entering, and I can’t believe I always find myself in the middle of it. One day we’re going to get caught, and they’re going to lock us up and throw away the key.”

Three minutes later, Muffin came on. “He’s in.” Then, a quick, “Uh-oh.”

Jamie’s heart leaped to her throat. “What is it?”

“There’s another Doberman inside. A mean one.”

“Holy Toledo!” Jamie cried. All at once, the dog out front began barking out of control.

“Hang on, Max,” Muffin said. “I’ll cover you.”

“What’s going on?” Jamie demanded.

“I just blasted both animals with an ultrasonic frequency that should draw their attention for a few minutes. Max and I have done this sort of thing before. Max,” Muffin said. “Are you okay?”

Jamie’s nails bit into the palms of her hands. “Put him on the speaker,” she said. “I want to know that he’s okay.”

Max came on. “I managed to lock the dog in the bathroom. I’m going to search the place.”

“Oh, boy,” Jamie said. “Muffin, how do you plan to get him out?”

“Same way I got him in.”

Jamie counted the minutes. “How long has he been in there?”

“Less than five minutes,” Muffin said. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.”

“I wish I hadn’t quit smoking,” Jamie said. “I could use a cigarette about now.”

“Don’t worry,” Muffin told her. “Max is good at this sort of thing.”

Jamie watched the clock on the dashboard. The next ten minutes seemed to drag on forever. Once Max was finished searching the house, he alerted Muffin, and she hit the dogs with the high-frequency sound once again. Max emerged from the house looking calm. He started the car and pulled away. “The place is clean,” he said. “I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, but that doesn’t mean we’re not dealing with a killer.”

Jamie leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes, waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal.

Once Max had driven a distance, he looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.”

“So you were worried about me, huh?”

She just looked at him.

Max grinned. “Muffin, Jamie was worried about me. That says a lot about our relationship.”

“What relationship?” Muffin asked.

“Thank you, Muffin,” Jamie said, “for not feeding his enormous ego. He knows darn well why I was worried. I don’t look good in stripes, and if I go to prison, what’s going to happen to Fleas? Nobody wants a dog with emotional problems and missing hair.”

“You guys need to stop arguing,” Muffin said. “You have an appointment with the Reverend Heyward in half an hour. You’re supposed to be in love.”

THE REVEREND JOE HEYWARD WAS A BIG MAN, standing well over six feet, with a broad chest that made Jamie think of Frankie. He looked to be in his early sixties. “So you two are thinking of getting married,” he said, once Jamie and Max had joined him in his office. The paneled walls were adorned with pictures of happy brides and grooms.

“Yes, sir,” Max said. “We’re in love.”

“Madly,” Jamie said.

“Sometimes, love is not enough,” the reverend replied. “There are trials and tribulations in this world that can tear a couple apart unless they are determined to work on their relationship every single day, every single hour, every single minute. You must be one hundred and fifty percent dedicated.”

“Wow, that sounds like a lot of work,” Max said.

“It certainly is,” the reverend replied. “Otherwise, you’ll end up in divorce court like half the couples in this country, and—” He paused and leaned forward. “I do not believe in divorce.” He clasped his hands as if in prayer. “What God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Till death do you part,” he added.

“We agree, don’t we, honey?” Max said to Jamie.

“Huh? Oh, right.”

The reverend went on as though he hadn’t heard. “I was married to my wife for thirty years before the Lord took her. Do you think it was always easy? No, it was not. Oh, she looked real nice when I first met her, all dolled up at the church social. Prettiest thing I’d ever seen. But people change over the years, and you have to accept change.”

The man pointed to Jamie. “She’s a beauty right now, but what are you going to do when she gets fat and starts nagging with every breath? ’Cause you can count on that happening, son. Women love to nag. They can nag in their sleep. You fantasize about putting a pillow over their face and shutting them up for good.” He paused and cleared his throat, as if realizing he’d made a blunder. “Not that I would ever consider such an act, mind you.”

Jamie almost shivered at his last sentence. The man sounded off his rocker. Why on earth Luanne had contacted him was beyond her; the woman had obviously been desperate for male attention. Was he the one who’d called her the night of her murder? What if he’d decided to stop by and meet Luanne personally? Would she have opened the door if he’d mentioned he was a minister? So many unanswered questions.

“This marriage business sounds tougher than I thought it would be,” Max said. He looked at Jamie. “And you
do
eat a lot of doughnuts. You keep that up, and you’re going to be the size of a freight train.”

“That’s how big my wife was,” Heyward said.

Jamie gaped at Max. “I don’t eat
that
many doughnuts. And I don’t nag.”

“Oh, yes you do,” Max told her. He looked at the Reverend Heyward. “And she can be disagreeable at times. It’s not always easy.”

“I’m not disagreeable,” Jamie said. “You’re just stubborn and arrogant.”

Heyward shook his head sadly. “I can see that we have our work cut out for us.” He reached for his appointment book. “Let me see when I can fit you in.”

“Would you mind if we get back to you?” Max said. “I need to check my calendar.” He handed the man a hefty cash donation.

Heyward’s eyes widened at the sight of the money. “I suggest we begin as soon as possible, maybe meet a couple of times a week. Call me as soon as it’s convenient. And don’t be discouraged; a good solid marriage makes for a lot of happiness. As a matter of fact, I hope to marry again one day soon. I’m definitely in the market for a good wife.”

Max was grinning when he and Jamie climbed into the front seat of his car a few minutes later. “What do you think?”

“I think the man is wacko. I don’t think many women are going to jump at the chance to become the next Mrs. Heyward. And that business about putting a pillow over someone’s face to shut them up.” She shuddered. “I don’t like it.”

“I wouldn’t mind knowing how his wife died,” Max said.

“Muffin, are you there?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“How did the Reverend Joe Heyward’s wife die?”

“She choked on a chicken bone,” Muffin replied.

Jamie rolled her eyes. “No, seriously.”

“I’m telling you, the woman choked on a chicken bone.”

Jamie sat there for a moment. She felt Max’s smile before she glanced over and saw it. “How can you possibly think that’s funny?”

“Well, he said she was as large as a freight train. I’ll bet she could put back a whole truckload of fried chicken.”

“Max, that’s not one bit funny.” Nevertheless, Jamie could feel the corners of her mouth twitching. Max reached over and tickled her.

“Lighten up, Swifty. We’re not letting Heyward off the hook that easily.”

“I don’t like being tickled.”

“I plan to find all your ticklish spots before long,” he said.

Jamie tried not to let her mind run amuck. “So what’s next?”

Max didn’t hesitate. “I think we need to pay Lamar Tevis a visit and see if he’s got the tape of the phone messages Luanne received the night of her murder. Muffin, call the police department and see if the chief is in.”

LAMAR GREETED MAX WITH A HANDSHAKE. “GOOD to see you again, Max,” he said. He nodded at Jamie and invited them to sit. He reclaimed his chair. “Now, then, may I ask
why
you want to hear the tape?”

Jamie answered. “A minister ran an ad with me, Lamar, and you said a man called Luanne claiming to be a man of God. She must’ve contacted him and left her telephone number.”

“Well, like I told you, the tape must’ve been old and worn because the voices aren’t very clear. But I’ll be glad to play it.” He popped a small cassette into his answering machine and pushed a button. There were several brief messages, along with a lot of crackling on the tape. They were followed by the voice of the man who claimed to be a man of God and needed to meet with Luanne immediately.

Jamie felt the hairs rise on her arms. She looked at Max.

“It’s not Heyward,” he said.

“No, but I think I recognize the voice. It sounds like Brent Walker.”

Lamar stopped the tape. “Who is Brent Walker?”

“Agnes Aimsley’s grandson. He’s visiting her from the seminary.”

“Are you sure?” Lamar asked.

“Could you play the tape again?” Jamie asked.

Lamar did as she requested. He cut off the machine once the tape ran out. “What do you think?” he said.

“I’ve only met this Walker guy once, and you’re right, the voices aren’t very clear, but I’m almost positive it’s him. I can’t imagine why he’d be calling Luanne, though. He didn’t run an ad.”

Lamar leaned back in his chair. “I reckon I’ll have to pay him a visit and find out.”

“I’m curious,” Max said. “Was Luanne robbed?”

Lamar looked at Jamie. “We haven’t released this information, so this is off the record.”

“Of course.”

“I think it was made to look like a robbery,” he said. “Her jewelry box was cleaned out, but she was wearing several expensive rings. A burglar would have noticed.”

THE LOUNGE AT THE HOLIDAY INN WAS DOING A good business when Jamie arrived. Obviously, the free hors d’oeuvres were a big plus; people were lined up at the two tables that had been set up with chafing dishes. Larry Johnson was sitting at the bar. He looked surprised to see Jamie, as if he’d expected her not to show.

He stood as she crossed the room. “You dressed up,” he said. “I’m flattered.”

“Of course I did,” Jamie said. “I wanted to look my best.”

“You succeeded very well. Would you rather get a table?”

“A table would be nice,” Jamie said, thinking he would be more open to conversation if they had privacy. She needed him to feel comfortable with her.

Larry grabbed his drink and led Jamie to a table that was situated in a dark corner. A cocktail waitress appeared a moment later. Jamie ordered a club soda and lime; Larry a double scotch.

“I thought you liked Kahlúa,” Larry said, once the waitress left them.

Jamie noted he looked disappointed that she hadn’t ordered a drink. After what Muffin had said about his drinking history, she suspected Larry preferred hanging with boozers, and, despite all the ribbing Jamie had received about how she’d acted at Myrna Hobbs’s place, she seldom touched alcohol. But once again, she needed Larry to feel comfortable around her or he wouldn’t say what was on his mind.

“Actually, I love the stuff,” she said, “but I’m still recovering from a hangover I got at a friend’s birthday party.”

He grinned. “I hope you don’t mind if I have another.”

“No, please, I insist.”

“I’m afraid I’m not in the greatest mood tonight,” he confessed. “I received a call from my ex-wife, and we got into it over the telephone so I closed the dealership at five and got the hell out of there.”

Jamie hoped it meant he’d had time to belt back several scotches. “I take it the split was not amicable.”

He gave a grunt. “Hardly. She got everything, including the house, and I’m paying child support out the ass. My apartment is crap, and I barely have any furniture. All I have to show for years of hard work is a decent car.”

“I’m sorry.” Jamie didn’t know the man well, but she suspected he’d gotten exactly what he deserved. “I’m sure you feel a lot of animosity toward your ex right now, but perhaps it’ll pass in time.”

“Don’t count on it. She put the screws to me. But I’m here to tell you, she’s going to get hers.”

Jamie caught the menace in his voice. “What do you mean?”

His answer was guarded. “As they say, what goes around comes around, know what I mean?” He suddenly looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. I have no right to unload on you. I invited you here for a good time.”

“I
am
having a good time,” Jamie said. “I don’t get out much.”

He looked doubtful. “A woman with your looks? I find that hard to believe.”

“Remember, I mentioned I was involved with someone for a while? He didn’t like to go out much.”

“I go out every night.” Larry shrugged. “Here, mostly, but it’s better than sitting at home. The ex got the only decent TV set, too. I was mad as hell over that one. A guy shouldn’t have to give up his TV.”

They were interrupted when the cocktail waitress appeared with their drinks.

Larry shoved several bills at her, told her to keep the change, and she walked away. He stirred his drink. “My ex claims I have an anger problem, among other things. The judge ordered me to get counseling on anger management if I wanted to see my children. I think that sucks.” He raised his glass, but it slipped from his hand, and his entire drink spilled on him, soaking the front of his shirt. “Oh, shit, now look what I’ve done.”

Jamie tried to help him mop the spill with a napkin, but it was useless.

“I’ve got to get out of this shirt,” Larry said. “It’s sticking to me.” He looked at her. “I only live a couple of miles from here. Why don’t we run by my place, let me clean up, then we can grab a bite to eat someplace. I’ll take you to a real restaurant so you can show off that nice dress.”

Jamie hesitated. Max had specifically told her and Destiny not to leave a public area with the men.

“Hey, this isn’t a pickup, okay? I just want to get out of this wet shirt.”

Jamie knew Max would be mad as hell if she left the premises with Larry, but what could she do? If she refused to go, she might lose her one chance of finding out whether he had ever met Luanne Ritter, much less visited her the night of her murder. He certainly had an anger problem, and his alcohol abuse made him a walking time bomb.