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  The doorbell rang.

  Max jerked his head up. “What the hell?”

  Jamie blinked furiously, trying to awaken her dulled senses. “I wonder who that could be.”

  “Ignore it.”

  She sat up. “I can’t ignore it, Max. It’s almost midnight. Something must be wrong. It could be Vera.”

  He gave a huge sigh, climbed from the bed, and reached for his slacks. “This had better be good.” He tugged them on and zipped them.

  Jamie grabbed her bathrobe. She hurried into the next room, Max right behind her. Fleas was on the sofa sleeping soundly. Jamie shot him a dirty look as she made for the door. She checked the peephole. “It’s Destiny.”

  “You’re kidding. What’s she doing here?”

  Jamie opened the front door. Destiny was dressed in skintight faux-leather shorts and a rhinestone tee that was molded to her oversized breasts.

  “Don’t you ever check your answering machine?” the woman asked frantically. Her eyes darted to Max then back to Jamie.

  “I was out all evening,” Jamie said. “I only returned home a little while ago. Do you know what time it is?”

  “Of course I do,” Destiny said. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t important. I’ve lost Ronnie.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  JAMIE GAPED AT DESTINY. “YOU’RE SERIOUS, AREN’T you?”

  “Of course I am. I feel responsible for him. I was wondering if he was over here.”

  “Why would he be here?” Jamie asked.

  “He likes the two of you. He told me. He especially likes your hound because he had one similar. Ronnie used to be an expert coon hunter,” she added, shaking her head sadly. “I can’t let him go off on his own because, well, because he needs my help. I’m the only one who can convince him to cross over to the other side. To the light,” she added.

  Jamie gave a massive eye-roll. “I don’t believe we’re having this conversation,” she muttered.

  Destiny looked past both of them. “There you are, dammit,” she said to an empty space. “Ronnie, what are you doing here this time of night? I’ve been searching all over for you.”

  Jamie and Max glanced around the room. “Where is he?” Jamie asked.

  “Sitting next to your dog.” Destiny walked over to Fleas, once again staring at an empty space. She put her hands on her hips. “It’s time to go home, Ronnie,” she said. “If you don’t go to the light, you’ll keep wandering around lost. I know you’re not anxious to see your dead mother, but you’ve got to face her sooner or later.” Destiny paused and looked at Max and Jamie. “Ronnie knows his mother is going to read him the riot act for getting drunk and falling out of that pickup truck.”

  Max and Jamie exchanged glances.

  Finally, Destiny sighed. “Okay, I’ll let you hang around my place for a while longer, but you can’t go running off like this because I’ll worry.”

  Jamie was intrigued. “How come you can see Ronnie, but we can’t?”

  Destiny shrugged. “Everyone has some psychic ability,” she said, “but they don’t use it.”

  “What does he look like?” Jamie asked.

  “He’s short and bald with a beer gut.” Destiny gave a grunt. “Yes, Ronnie, you do have a beer gut. Now are you coming with me or not?” She glanced at Max and Jamie. “Ronnie can be stubborn at times.”

  “Well, I’m sure the two of you will work things out,” Max said. He walked into the bedroom for the rest of his clothes.

  Jamie couldn’t hide her irritation. “Destiny, you’re going to have to keep up with your dead spirit. I can’t have him showing up here at all hours of the night.” She suddenly remembered what Max had said about dead spirits attaching themselves to other people. “Ronnie isn’t, um, an evil spirit, is he?” she asked, and then realized how strange her question sounded.

  “Oh, no, he’s quite friendly,” Destiny said, “even if he is a real pain in the ass.” She paused. “Yes, Ronnie, you are a pain in the ass, and I don’t know why I put up with you. Now let’s go home and let these people get some sleep.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m waiting.”

  Max reentered the room, still buttoning his shirt. “You haven’t come up with any more information, have you?”

  Destiny shook her head. “Sorry. I think I’m still blocked.”

  “Max said you didn’t think the dentist looked suspicious.”

  Destiny shrugged. “He seemed harmless to me, but he did have golf clubs in his office, and I suppose one of them could have been used to kill that poor woman. Maybe something will come to me soon. In the meantime, I’ll be in the office early Monday morning to pick up my mail.”

  “Your mail?”

  “I assume I’ll have responses to the new column you mentioned to your readers.”

  Jamie doubted it, but she didn’t want to hurt Destiny’s feelings. She had almost been too embarrassed to run the announcement and couldn’t imagine anyone in Beaumont writing in for advice from the Divine Love Goddess Advisor, but for some insane reason she had posted it anyway.

  Max stepped forward. “By the way, I was hoping you could follow one of the suspects around for a couple of days.”

  Destiny shrugged. “Sure.”

  “I don’t want you to get too close, but he needs to be watched.”

  “How will I know what the guy looks like?”

  Max described him. “Do you have a pair of binoculars?” he asked.

  “They’re easy enough to buy.”

  “His name is Larry Johnson, and he owns a local car dealership. It would be best if you parked across from his place of business. He’ll probably be at the car lot all day tomorrow. He’ll be easy to spot since he’s the only salesman on the lot. He also hangs out in the lounge at the Holiday Inn at night. Like I said, I don’t want you to get too close.”

  “What am I looking for?”

  “I’d just like to know who he’s spending his evenings with.”

  “Okay.” Destiny suddenly glanced sideways. “No, Ronnie, I don’t think that’s a polite question to ask.”

  “What does Ronnie want to know?” Jamie said.

  “I’m almost too embarrassed to say, but he is asking what happened to your dog’s hair.”

  “Coon attack,” Jamie said, irritated that people were always finding flaws with her pet. “Um, it’s getting late, Destiny, and I don’t mean to be rude, but do you think you could take your dead spirit home now?”

  Max looked amused.

  “Okay, I’m out of here,” Destiny said. “Come on, Ronnie.” She turned for the door, and then glanced over her shoulder. “We need to figure out who the murderer is right away because I have to have oral surgery next week. The dentist said my wisdom teeth have to come out.”

  Jamie watched Destiny pull away in her Mercedes. Max came up beside her and put his hands on her shoulders. “That woman needs help,” Jamie said. When Max chuckled, she went on. “And you’re only encouraging her.”

  “I’m just trying to find a killer. Any way I can,” he added.

  “You don’t think it’s strange for a woman to show up at my door at midnight looking for a ghost?”

  He grinned.

  “It’s not funny, Max,” she said. “If you want to play ball with her and her imaginary playmate, go for it, but I’m out.” He removed his hands from her shoulders, and Jamie wished she hadn’t been so brusque with him.

  “If you don’t want her around, tell her,” he said. He glanced at his wristwatch. “Look, I need to be going. I’ve got to make a few phone calls.”

  “At this hour?”

  “I’m calling countries in a different time zone. Besides, we’re both tired. How about I catch up with you tomorrow?”

  Jamie felt her jaw drop. He was leaving? Just like that? She didn’t want him to go.

  Or maybe they needed a little distance. If Max stayed, they would finish making love, and if that happened she was a goner. Once she made love with Max Holt she wou
ld fall hopelessly in love with him. She didn’t have time to fall in love, not with a murderer on the loose.

  “Maybe that’s best,” she said at last.

  MAX CLIMBED INTO HIS CAR AND STARTED THE ENgine. Muffin came on. “Boy, that was quick. I figured the two of you would go at it all night.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Uh-oh,” Muffin said. “I can tell by the sound of your voice it didn’t go well. Did you guys have an argument?”

  “No.”

  “I’m confused,” Muffin said. “What’s the problem? Why this constant tug-of-war? It’s obvious the two of you are hot for each other.”

  “Okay, Muffin, I’ll level with you. I’m beginning to worry that Jamie might want more out of this relationship than I can give her.”

  “So is this the part where you tell the woman in question that you can’t possibly make a commitment and you try to soften the blow with flowers?”

  Max didn’t answer.

  “Because if it is I’m telling you right now it’s not going to work,” Muffin went on. “You’re not willing to let Jamie go. Face it, Max. You’ve got it bad.”

  Max didn’t respond at first. “Do me a favor, Muffin,” he said, changing the subject. “I want you to check out a Destiny Moultrie for me. I want to know everything you can find on her.”

  “So we’re not going to talk about it, is that it?”

  He didn’t try to keep the irritation from his voice when he spoke. “I don’t want to talk about Jamie right now if it’s all the same to you.”

  A few minutes later, Max pulled into the parking lot of his hotel and parked. He sat there for a moment before getting out of the car and making his way to his room. He gazed at the empty bed. “Shit.”

  JAMIE AWOKE TO THE SMELL OF FLEAS’S BREATH ON her face. “Oh, God!” she cried, shoving him away. “I hope you haven’t been licking yourself again.”

  He simply stood there, watching and waiting.

  “You need to go out, is that it?” She dragged herself from the bed and headed for the back door with him on her heels. She paused to unlock the door, and he bumped into her. Dog and master exchanged looks. “You do that every time,” Jamie said. “You know I’m going to have to stop and unlock the door, but you insist on running into me. Why is that?”

  He thumped his tail once.

  “And why am I in such a sour mood this morning?” Suddenly she remembered. She frowned as she opened the door so Fleas could go out. Max had just walked out on her the night before. Just walked out. She wished it didn’t bother her so much. She wished she knew where she stood with him.

  “Stop kidding yourself,” she said aloud. “You know exactly where you stand.” That’s what hurt. It didn’t matter that they were just itching to climb into bed together; the fact was Max didn’t want anything permanent, and she was just going to have to accept it.

  It was time she faced facts.

  Fleas made straight for Jamie’s one rosebush. Worse, he glanced back at her as if to say, “So what’re you gonna do about it?” He hiked his leg and whizzed right on it. Jamie gave a sigh, went inside and turned on her automatic coffee maker. It gurgled to life.

  Her stomach growled. She wondered if Max was going to show up with doughnuts. She wasn’t counting on it; it was already seven o’clock, and he would have been there by now. He was probably sitting in his hotel room practicing his great rejection speech. Well, he could shove it, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t need him any more than he needed her. She had her pride.

  Still, it hurt. They had been through so much together. How could a man look at her the way Max did and not feel something? How could he touch her and kiss her and remain so casual about it? Well, she wasn’t made that way.

  Fleas scratched at the door, and Jamie let him in, then she went into the bathroom. Fleas followed. Jamie stared at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, her mascara smudged. Her sleep shirt bore more wrinkles than Fleas’s face. She glanced down at the dog.

  “Would you just look at me?” she said. “I’ve let myself go.”

  Fleas cocked his head to the side as though trying to understand.

  “We can’t continue living on junk food,” Jamie went on. “We’re both at the age where we need to start taking better care of ourselves or our arteries are going to need Drano to get them unclogged. You know what that means? No more doughnuts and ice cream.”

  Fleas sank to the floor and put a paw over one eye. Jamie knew he didn’t understand a word she said—he mainly reacted to her tone of voice—but one would have thought he was capable of taking in her every word.

  “Yep, this means I need to start eating more vegetables, and you need to eat that expensive dog food I buy you. I’m serious, pal,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. “I’m going to turn over a new leaf today, and I’m going to get Max Holt out of my system if it kills me. I’m going to stop eating those brownies.”

  Jamie went into her bedroom and changed into a pair of sweats, an old T-shirt, and running shoes. Fleas watched her, as if he expected something big was about to happen. Jamie tried to remember when she had last done anything that resembled jogging. Geez, she would probably have a heart attack before she cleared the driveway.

  Fleas followed her outside. It was already muggy, the air thick with humidity. She could literally feel it on her face and arms. If only the weather would break. Jamie regarded Fleas. “You can’t go jogging because you just got neutered,” she told him. “Besides, it requires physical activity, and we both know that’s not your strong suit.”

  As if he understood, Fleas walked over to the nearest tree and plopped down in the shade. Jamie began doing a few stretches to prepare her poor body for what she was about to put it through.

  She did not see the French poodle dash across the yard, but the next thing she knew Fleas was howling in protest, and a poodle was trying to mount him. Fleas darted behind Jamie as if hoping she could protect him.

  “Oh, good grief!” a woman cried. “Precious, you stop that this instant!”

  Jamie glanced in the direction of the voice. The woman wore a tight polka-dot dress and spike heels, had big blond hair, and she was doing her best to walk through the high grass in Jamie’s yard. “Dammit, Precious, I said stop!”

  Jamie stared in disbelief as the poodle chased Fleas around a large oleander bush. Finally, Fleas skirted around the back of the house with the poodle right behind him.

  “Miss, I am so embarrassed,” the woman said. “Precious tries to mount everything in sight. It’s like he has just gone off the deep end. It’s so embarrassing.”

  “Your dog is a male?” Jamie asked. “So is mine.”

  “Yes, he’s a male, but that wouldn’t stop him. It’s humiliating.” She sighed heavily.

  “I’d better check on my dog,” Jamie said, worried that Fleas would pull his stitches out running from the poodle. The last thing she needed was another vet bill. She hurried around the back of the house with the woman behind her. Fleas had found refuge in the old truck Jamie had parked in her back yard. The poodle was jumping up and down like a yo-yo trying to reach the tailgate.

  “I think it’ll be okay now,” Jamie said. “Your dog doesn’t seem to be able to reach the bed of the truck.” She took another look at the blonde, who seemed to be in her early forties. “I don’t recall seeing you before. Are you new in the neighborhood?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m renting the house next door. My name is Barbara Fender.”

  “Jamie Swift.” Jamie saw the woman’s eyes suddenly widen, and she turned. Max had arrived with coffee and doughnuts.

  “Who is that hunk?” Barbara whispered.

  “His name is Max.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “Well, um, it’s complicated.”

  “All relationships are complicated,” the woman said sourly. “You ask me, they’re not worth it.”

  Jamie found herself nodding in agreement.

  “Sorry I’m lat
e,” Max called out. “I had to make a lot of calls this morning.” His eyes combed her in her baggy sweats. “Nice outfit.”

  Jamie felt like crawling beneath the truck, but she was afraid the poodle would start humping her. “I was about to go for a run.”

  “Why? Is your car on the blink?” Max looked at the woman beside Jamie. “Hi. I’m Max.”

  “Barbara.”

  All at once, the poodle raced toward Max and started humping his leg. “Nice to meet you, Barbara,” he said, trying to shake the poodle off. “Is this your dog? I have to admit I’ve always had a fondness for poodles. My grandmother raised them. I just can’t remember any of them liking me this well.”

  Barbara tried to get her dog under control. Finally, she grabbed him and picked him up. “Precious is going through a difficult time right now. I’m so sorry.”

  “No need to apologize,” Max said.

  “Barbara is moving in next door,” Jamie explained. Max nodded, and they were all silent, each of them obviously at a loss for words. “Would you like to join us for a cup of coffee?” Jamie asked, although she knew she didn’t sound sincere. She was eager for the woman to take her dog home.

  As if sensing Jamie was only trying to be polite, Barbara shook her head. “I think I need to get Precious home,” she said, “but thanks just the same.”

  Max and Jamie waited until she’d disappeared inside her house before trying to convince Fleas to get down from the bed of the truck. Finally, Max pulled out a doughnut, and the hound climbed down, took the doughnut and almost swallowed it whole before racing toward the house.

  “Wow, I’ve never seen Fleas run like that,” Jamie said.

  “How come you didn’t want your neighbor to have coffee with us?” Max asked.

  Jamie looked at him. “What makes you think I didn’t?”

  “You’re usually friendlier. Even to people you’ve just met.”

  “I think it had a lot to do with her kooky dog.”

  “You don’t like her.”

  Jamie didn’t respond because he was right. It could have been her imagination, but she hadn’t appreciated the way Barbara had looked at Max. But then, he always drew stares from the opposite sex.