Desperate to the Max (Max Starr, #3)

“Walk Max to her car, Bud. It’s dark out.”


She didn’t need Virginia’s help, and she didn’t need Bud Traynor to walk her to her car. Gag me with a spoon. Oh God. Goose bumps papered her arms beneath the sleeves of her blouse. The three helpings of mashed potatoes, umpteen slices of London Broil, and two pieces of carrot cake shifted uncomfortably in her stomach. She felt like she’d been weighted down with concrete blocks chained to her waist.

She was no closer to the goal than she’d been when she walked in the door. Yes, she’d made it into the kitchen. No, she hadn’t seen the rolling pin, only an empty holder on the wall where it should have. Telling to her, but not enough for Witt—or McKaverty and Schulz—to get a search warrant.

She closed her eyes and felt the slight jerk at the back of her neck where a tension headache reared its head. “Yes, please, Bud, do walk me to my car.”

They had things left to say. About last night. About the scene she’d witnessed in the kitchen as she pushed open the door: Bud standing next to Jada, the front of his gold polo shirt brushing her shoulder as he spoke into her ear, the glassy look in her eyes, the hypnotic nod of her head.

Max said her thank yous and her good-byes to Virginia. Jada had stayed in the kitchen to wash the dishes. Max wondered when she’d washed the blood off the rolling pin and disposed of it. What day was trash day on Garden Street? What had Virginia said when she’d seen it was missing?

Then Max was out on the front walk with Bud, the front porch light disappearing behind her as Bud led her down the street to her car. Outside Ladybird’s house. Max prayed Witt had not decided to visit his mother tonight. She didn’t think he’d understand. He’d call her obsessed. He’d be right. She was obsessed with bringing Bud down. Any way she could.

She was beginning to fear that goal was next to impossible.

Traynor stopped just outside of the circle of light of a nearby streetlamp. To her right, one light burned in Ladybird’s window, the curtains were closed, and Witt’s truck was nowhere in sight. Thank you, God.

“I’m so glad you came.” Traynor emphasized the last word.

He stood a hair’s breadth short of the way he’d stood next to Jada. Invading her space, making her hackles rise, causing her throat to close. She swallowed with difficulty, but refused to back off. “Don’t you even wonder why I’m here?”

He shook his head. “It only matters that you are.”

“Jada invited me.”

His eyes glowed. “She invited you for me.”

Max snorted softly. “She invited me because you and her mother make her feel like a servant. She needed a friend.”

“Jada has me. She doesn’t need friends.”

Jada needed a padded cell. Maybe Bud wasn’t so far off, though. Maybe Max had been had. She’d wondered about the strange invitation, wondered even further when Jada barely acknowledged her existence throughout the entire meal unless it was to use her to taunt her mother.

In light of what he’d admitted, it made bizarre sense.

“Was she trying to find you a replacement for Bethany?” The thought gave her a knee jerk reaction; she bit down painfully on her tongue.

“Jada has always wanted to please me.”

He wasn’t just evil; he truly was the devil himself. “Tell me about Jada’s suit against her father.”

Bud beamed. “Damn, your intuition amazes me. How do you learn these things?”

“It was you Jada talked about in the trial, not her father.”

“I never did anything Jada didn’t want, didn’t ask for or even beg for.” He considered her. “A bit like you, Max. I’m waiting for the day you come to me.”

It was too horribly close to what Witt wanted from her. This man defiled even that. She didn’t acknowledge his words. “Did you put her up to the suit?”

He smiled.

“Did you do it to ruin your partner, to get rid of him?”

The smile grew.

“How did you get Virginia to testify?”

He crossed his arms; Max said another silent thank you as the space between them eased.

“Suppose I told you, Max, that Virginia believed her husband was having an affair and she wanted to get back at him?”

“I’d say you probably told her lies to make her believe that.”

“Suppose I further told you that he hated her.”

“I’d say you did something to foster that, too.”

“Thank you for assigning me all that power.” He stared dreamily into the distance. “You should have seen the two of them. So much anger, such rage. They each stayed in that grand house together to spite the other. Till the day he put a gun to his head.” He looked at her and punctuated his words with an arched brow.

“Why would he do that, Bud?” she asked pointedly.

“He thought he was going to lose?” Bud offered, still with that gleam in his eye.

“I think maybe he was murdered.” She slipped it in quickly, like a knife through a soft belly.