Full Speed (12 page)

That's where his patience ended. He was as hotheaded as Nick could be at times, which was why they understood each other so well and why their friendship had lasted for so many years.

Rudy climbed from the SUV and stretched. Dressed all in black, he was not easy to make out in the dark, and he liked it that way. He was better able to move about the property unseen. As Nick's head lieutenant and most devoted friend and employee, Rudy saw that things ran smoothly, in both Nick's personal and professional life. He reached beneath the seat for his gun and tucked it into the waistband of his slacks.

He went to the back of the SUV and lifted the tailgate. Once he'd leashed the dogs, he grabbed a flashlight and led them to the gate. He muttered a few words into the speaker, and it slid open.

He crossed the highway and followed the path that led through the woods on the other side. The dogs pulled at the leash as though sensing something was about to happen. Some minutes later, he came upon the cabin. He stared for a moment at the window and the faint glow coming from inside.

Rudy reached for his gun. Very quietly he walked toward the cabin. He aimed the gun and kicked open the door.

Dave jumped as the door to the cabin burst open and a man stepped inside. Dave's eyes traveled quickly from the gun to the dogs. He removed his headset.

"Well now," Rudy said, "what have we got here?" He stepped closer. He raised his eyes to Dave, and they locked gazes. Rudy aimed his gun and fired three shots.

Dave dived to the floor as the equipment literally burst all around him. He grabbed a chair leg and raised it chest high in an attempt to defend himself.

Rudy laughed, aimed his gun once more, and fired off another shot. The chair leg splintered. He laughed at Dave, reached down, and unleashed one of the dogs.

Dave cried out as the Doberman sank his teeth into his thigh.

It was approaching eleven-thirty when Jamie insisted that Michael take her back to her truck. After she ate her fill at Jeno's

They fell together on the bed, hard. Too hard. The bed shifted and shook, the pillows flew in every direction, and there was a loud
bam.
To Jamie, it sounded as if the house had caved in. She peeked out from beneath a pillow. The head- and footboards were still in place, but the mattress and box spring were on the floor. The bottom of the bed was still in place, as though suspended. She blinked at the sight. "We broke the bed."

"Ignore it," Max said, pressing his lips to hers.

She kissed him back, even as their bodies inched toward the top of the bed. Jamie's skull touched the wall beneath the headboard. "I'm a little uncomfortable," she said against Max's hot mouth.

He scooted her away from the wall. "Don't think about it. Don't think at all. You know what happens every time you start thinking."

Jamie slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him against her as she opened her mouth under his. It didn't matter that her feet were elevated a good eighteen inches above her head.

Max kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth, exploring. She was only vaguely aware that Fleas was standing beside the bed sniffing her hair. Damned if Max didn't taste better than anything she had ever put in her mouth. Better than cotton candy and buttered popcorn. He broke the kiss, and they both sucked in air.

He looked into Jamie's eyes. "Are you OK?"

"I'm thinking this must be how it feels to be a bat. They hang upside down, too."

"See? You're doing it. You're thinking."

"I'll stop." Jamie put two fingers together, touched her temple, and turned them, as though switching off a button.

Max grinned and reclaimed her mouth. Jamie grasped his head, pulling him even closer. He paused only long enough to run his lips over her face, her closed eyelids, and her throat. She shivered.

Max pressed his lower body against hers. "You make me crazy," he said. "One minute I want to wring your neck, and the next minute I want to make love to you until we both drop."

He was making her crazy, too. Jamie reached for the buttons on his shirt. Her hands shook; her fingers trembled. She fumbled with the buttons, but her fingers were made clumsy by the need building inside of her. She could feel his skin beneath the shirt, solid and warm, but damned if she could get the buttons open. Finally, in a fit of frustration, she yanked the front of the shirt hard. Several buttons popped off and hit the floor.

They paused and watched the buttons bounce. "This was never my favorite shirt," Max said, covering her mouth once more.

Everything seemed to be happening quickly. Jamie was only vaguely aware of Max removing her sandals, caressing her legs. She reached for his belt as he slipped his hands up her skirt and tugged at her panties. Oh God, she thought as he managed to work them down past her hips and thighs and calves.

"Damn belt," she muttered, trying to unfasten it.

"You've got sexy legs," Max said, pressing his lips against her inner thigh.

"Thank you," she managed.

"You're welcome." He looked at her strangely. "Are you OK?"

"Maybe we could rearrange ourselves. My ears are pounding. I thought it was desire at first, but I think the blood is rushing to my brain."

In one move, Max turned her so that her head was at the foot of the bed and her feet at the top. "That's better," she said.

Max didn't seem to be listening. He shoved her skirt high as he kissed his way up her leg. He touched her lightly with his tongue, and Jamie cried out. She thought she heard Fleas moan in the background.

Fleas began to howl.

Max raised his head. "Come with me, Fleas," he said sternly.

The dog followed him from the bedroom and into the kitchen, where Max pulled out an entire package of ham. He tossed it, wrapper and all, to the floor before hurrying back into the bedroom, where he closed the door and locked it.

"Fleas is having a snack," he said, his gaze flitting over Jamie's half-clad body. He reached for his zipper. From somewhere far away a phone rang.

Jamie blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head, even as she reached for him. She barely choked the word, "Phone!"

Max paused, gave his head a shake, and raced from the room. He found his cell phone on the table. He pushed a button. "Yeah?" His breathing was ragged.

"Max Holt?"

"Speaking."

"Hello, Max. This is Nicholas Santoni."

* * * * *

Jamie got off the bed, pulled her skirt into place, and walked into the living room, where she found Max on his cell phone.

The look on his face told her something was wrong. "I'm listening," Max said.

Jamie waited, afraid to speak. Fleas got up and ambled toward them. Finally, Max hung up.

"What is it?" Jamie asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"That was Nick Santoni. He has Dave."

"What? Oh, my God! Is Dave

"What have we got?" Muffin asked once Max had scoped out the property surrounding Last Chance Auto Salvage.

Max began pulling out tools from behind the seat and stuffing them into a backpack. "High-voltage fencing, razor wire, top-of-the line security system, and a bad-ass pit bull."

"Hmm. I didn't realize it was so difficult to find good used automotive parts."

Max slipped on the backpack. "Yeah, well, I have a feeling there's a lot more going on in this place than buying and selling auto parts."

"How far away did you park?" Muffin asked.

"Quarter of a mile. Hard to see clearly because of the fog. I don't think anyone is home, but I don't want to risk Nick or his buddies seeing the truck."

"I can probably take care of the dog."

"Probably?" Max said. "You don't sound too certain, and this dog looks mean as hell."

"I can produce an ultrasonic sound of up to two miles, Max, but you realize I'm only going to be able to distract the animal for a matter of minutes. Once he gets accustomed to the sound he'll go after you. I hope you have pepper spray."

"Yeah."

"You'll have to radio me when you're going in and out. I'll hit him with everything I've got, but I can't make any promises."

"I'll be in touch." Max turned on his flashlight and took off on foot. The light seemed to make the fog worse instead of better. The dog was waiting for him when he arrived back at the salvage yard. He barked and snarled as Max donned thick rubber gloves and cut the fence with special wire cutters that would prevent him from suffering a bad shock.

He picked up his cell phone, punched a button, and radioed Muffin. "I'm ready to go in."

"Are you familiar with the security system?"

"Yeah. It's above standard but nothing I can't handle."

"You may not have more than two or three minutes, Max. Here we go."

Max knew the minute Muffin turned on the high-frequency noise-producing sound, not because he heard it but because the dog suddenly reared his head back and shook it hard. Max peeled back a portion of the fence as the dog seemed to forget everything else for the moment except the noise. He yelped and raced away.

Max very carefully slipped past the fence and ran toward the building. He pulled off one glove, reaching into his shirt pocket where he'd tucked a thin but high-powered flashlight. He held it between his teeth and opened the box. Grabbing a screwdriver from his pocket, he shut down the alarm system within seconds.

"I'm in," Max said, once he'd gone through the heavy metal door.

"I see you haven't lost your touch," Muffin said. "I just turned off the noise."

Max crossed a room with a counter and several hard plastic chairs. "I'm in the reception area." He continued down a hall, past a small kitchen, toward the back of the building. He stopped short when he spied a crisscross of blue lights in front of a set of heavy metal doors.

"Aw, shit!"

"What is it?" Muffin asked.

"Lasers."

"You know what that means," Muffin said.

"Yeah. I'm in the right place."

* * * * *

Jamie was quiet as Nick turned on yet another mountain road that seemed to lead farther away from civilization. The fog had worsened, making the ride hazardous, but Nick didn't seem to notice. Jamie gripped the armrest with each twist and turn. Anxiety gnawed at her stomach as she wondered what his plans were.

"You're awfully quiet, Jamie."

"Sorry if I don't feel like playing twenty questions, but my mind is preoccupied."

He chuckled softly. "I know the feeling. I haven't been able to sleep lately. Can't seem to shut off my brain. Have you ever felt like time was running out?"

What a question, she thought. She eyed the locked door. "I think I can relate."

He reached over and took her hand. "I'm sorry if I've frightened you. All I want is for us to talk." He slowed the car and pulled up to a wrought-iron gate. Attached to it was a massive brick wall that Jamie had seen in a photo only hours before.

Nick pushed a button, and his window whispered down. He spoke into a tiny speaker, and the gate immediately slid open. He drove through it, and Jamie watched it close behind them.

"Now, how about that cup of coffee?" Nick said once he'd cut the engine and parked.

Jamie merely shrugged. She remained quiet as he helped her from the car and opened the back door for Fleas. The dog jumped out and shook hard, his ears flapping back and forth.

Jamie glanced around as if impressed by what she saw beneath the tall lighted poles when what she was looking for was an escape route. She noted the outbuildings, heard dogs barking in the distance. The place was probably heavily guarded. She suspected the brick wall encompassed the entire area.

There was no way out.

A man dressed in black emerged from the shadows, two Doberman pinschers beside him, each straining on the leash. Jamie jumped. She recognized him immediately, the man who'd caught her writing down his license tag number, the man who'd taken her notepad. That meant he and Nick knew everything she and Max had been able to find out since arriving in Sweet Pea.

Fleas growled. Nick reached for his collar. "Get the dogs out of here, Rudy."

The man gave Jamie a slow easy smile and walked away, disappearing once more into the dark.

Nick continued holding Fleas's collar. "It's OK, boy," he said. "Don't worry about the dogs, Jamie. I have to keep them on the property due to prowlers."

Yeah, right, she thought.

Together they managed to get Fleas inside the cabin. Jamie was surprised at the dog's aggressiveness; he obviously sensed something wasn't right. She kept petting him, offering him reassurance.

The cabin was spacious and definitely masculine. There wasn't a woman's touch anywhere, not even in the fully equipped kitchen, with its black lacquered cabinets and stainless-steel appliances. A red, black, and yellow abstract painting gave off the only color in the room.

If she lived she would be able to tell her friends she had gotten to see the inside of a killer's house.

Nick walked to the refrigerator. "I offered you coffee, but I have wine if you prefer it."

She didn't need to get drunk; she needed to get out. "Actually, a glass of water would be fine."

"Certainly." He grabbed two glasses from one of the cabinets and filled them from the refrigerator dispenser. He handed her one of the glasses before reaching for a box of dog biscuits. He offered it to Fleas, but the dog backed away. "Suit yourself, boy."

"He was obviously spooked by your dogs," Jamie said, thinking Fleas was probably smarter than her for not accepting from a man like Nick anything that would be ingested. "He'll be OK in a minute or two."

"Let's sit in the living room."

Like she had a choice. Jamie took the glass and followed him once more, the hound on her heels. She sat down on the leather sofa and was surprised when Nick took the chair next to it instead of sitting beside her.

He looked at her. "You're surprised I'm not already all over you, aren't you, Jamie?" he asked as though reading her mind.

"Well, I