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He shrugged. “You know how moms are. But my job isn’t as dangerous as it sounds.”

“Uh-huh.” She clearly didn’t believe him. She opened her soft drink and sat at the table.

“You just have to know what you’re doing, Maggie. There’s a lot of up-front work, a lot of planning. I don’t just walk in blindly.”

“Have you ever been scared?”

“Never.”

“Liar.” She laughed.

“Okay, I was a little nervous when the guy broke my arm. I just do my best to act the part and not flub up my lines.”

“Like performing in a play,” she said.

He looked thoughtful. “I guess.”

Zack was still thinking about the conversation with Maggie an hour later as he cleaned his rifle in the upstairs guest room. When she had likened his work to being in a play, he should have mentioned that he didn’t usually kiss the other characters. Or notice their legs and the way their hips swayed when they walked. Okay, that was a lie. He noticed. He’d fantasized. But he hadn’t touched.

Chapter Eight

Maggie folded back a small section of the aluminum foil from the kitchen window and gazed out at the backyard. She knew Zack would insist she recover the window once he came downstairs, but she did not like having the world and the light blocked from view so that it felt as if she were living in a tightly sealed box.

The shadows, cast by the tall oaks and pines, had lengthened. It would be dark in an hour, making it easier for Carl Lee to slip unnoticed past police who had embedded themselves in the neighborhood woodwork and would go unnoticed by most people. But Carl Lee Stanton was not like most people. He was dangerous and cunning. And he might already be in Beaumont. He could be watching the house this very minute. She was comforted by the sound of Zack’s footsteps overhead.

She was not comforted by their earlier conversation.

I just do my best to act the part and not flub up my lines.

He hadn’t been referring to people like Mel and her, Maggie reminded herself. He was talking about the bad guys who did things like break his arm. She and Mel posed no threat. He did not have to hide behind another character. He was free to be himself, and the real Zack Madden genuinely liked her daughter. He genuinely cared about their safety. Of that she was certain. What she didn’t understand was why he had checked them out beforehand. And where the hell did that kiss fit in? And when it was all over, then what? Would he just fill out his paperwork, stick them all into a file, and stamp it CASE CLOSED?

Queenie and Everest arrived at Maggie’s shortly afterward. Maggie disarmed the alarm system, and the two stepped inside the kitchen, Everest grasping the handle on a pet carrier that contained a squawking black hen. Mel came into the room and peered inside the carrier.

“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.