Jack's Christmas Mission

“Thanks.”

Ross smiled, then walked backward, exiting slowly, melting away like snow in the sunshine.

Peggy Jo turned her attention back to Jack and before he could ask her, she said, “Leda Seager is the director of Self-Made Woman and Burt Morgan is our production manager. I wanted to speak to them and explain about your presence on the set…well, actually, your presence in my life. I asked Chet to let me speak to them first. I was afraid that if he told them about you, he would…well, he might—”

“Chet? Chet Compton, the station manager. Right?”

“Yes, but how did you know?”

“His name stuck in my mind after I read your file that Dundee put together quickly and gave me before I left Atlanta yesterday. If I recall correctly, Chet’s also a former boyfriend of yours.”

“Chet was never my boyfriend,” she corrected. “He and I dated occasionally, but we’ve never been anything except friends. And not even that anymore. We’re business associates and that’s all.”

“Who broke whose heart?”

“What?”

“If you two were friends before you started dating and now that you don’t date any longer, you aren’t friends, then that tells me somebody took the relationship seriously and got hurt when it ended.”

“You’re quite astute, aren’t you?” Peggy Jo sipped her coffee. “Chet wanted more than friendship. I didn’t.”

“Any chance Chet is your stalker?”

Peggy Jo wanted to reply in the negative, but she couldn’t. Chet had a temperamental nature and tended to be possessive. She didn’t like the idea of suspecting him, but she knew she couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“Probably not,” she said. “But it’s possible.”

“And what about Ross? It’s obvious the boy’s got a crush on you.”

Peggy Jo shrugged. “I doubt it’s Ross. He’s such a sweet boy. But then again, I suppose he could be considered a suspect.”

Jack harrumphed. “Just how many lovesick fools do you have in your life?”

Peggy Jo narrowed her gaze and glowered at him. “What happened to that good-ole-boy charm of yours?”

“Sorry, ma’am.” The corners of his mouth lifted, but didn’t quite form a smile. “Let me rephrase that. How many men do you suspect might be your stalker?”

Before Peggy Jo could answer his question, Leda and Burt entered the studio. She glanced at her watch and realized that she had only a couple of minutes to introduce Jack Parker and explain his presence before it was time for a quick rehearsal. They would begin taping the first of the Christmas week episodes in less than an hour. And the audience would be allowed into the studio in about thirty minutes.

“I’ll go over all the possible suspects with you on my lunch break later today,” Peggy Jo said. “But for now, come meet two very important people who have helped advance my television career.”

Jack stood on the sidelines, off to himself just enough to keep a close watch on his client without being seen by either the camera or the small local audience that fitted snugly into the studio. As he watched and listened to Peggy Jo Riley doing her thing, he marveled at how adept she was at putting her guests at ease, even those with whom she disagreed. Why hadn’t she used a little of that charisma with him? he wondered. She’d been downright hostile. Of course, he hadn’t put his best foot forward with her, either. The score was pretty much even in the ornery and unpleasant department. Face it, Jacky-boy, you aren’t used to women taking an instant dislike to you. Miss Peggy Jo kinda bruised your ego, didn’t she?

When she had threatened to fire him, why had he all but pleaded with her for a second chance? Ego! Male ego! It would be one thing if he quit, but another thing altogether if she fired him. He intended to contact Ellen tonight and tell her that he wanted a female agent to replace him on this job as soon as one became available. That way both he and the client would be happier.

The well-rounded young woman Peggy Jo had introduced to him as Kayla Greene, her assistant, came up beside him and said softly, “Isn’t she wonderful?”

“Huh?” Jack glanced at the friendly Ms. Greene, whose gaze was glued to the set where her boss lady was discussing with a dietician how to eat well during Christmas without putting on extra pounds.

“I’m talking about our Peggy Jo,” Kayla said, keeping her voice low. “Isn’t she wonderful? Everybody in the whole state of Tennessee just loves her. That’s why I can’t figure out why anyone would want to hurt her. Do you think it’s possible that her stalker is just some misguided guy who’s in love with her?”

“Sure, the guy stalking her could think he’s in love with her, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.”

“I’m really glad that Ms. Lennard talked Peggy Jo into hiring you. If anything happened to her, we’d all be just devastated.”

Jack laid his hand on Kayla’s plump shoulder. She gazed up at him and smiled. He indicated with a nod that he wanted her to move back farther away from the set. She followed him into the nearby corner.

“What is it?” she asked, her blue-gray eyes sparkling and her round cheeks flushing a rosy pink.

“I was wondering if you’ve got any idea about who Miss Peggy Jo’s stalker might be,” Jack said. “You probably know everyone she works with and the guys she dates and—”

“I’ve got my suspicions, that’s for sure. If it’s somebody who cares about her, then it might be Mr. Compton. He’s been peeved at her ever since she stopped dating him.”

“Yeah, I already know about him, and he’s at the top of my list. But what about someone else? What about Ross Brewster or Burt Morgan?”

When Kayla shook her head, her halo of chestnut-brown curls bounced about her moon-pie face. “It’s not either of them. Ross is such a sweet guy and Mr. Morgan is super-nice. They both adore Peggy Jo.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Jack patted his Stetson on his leg. “So, Chet Compton is your only suspect?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said it might be him. But if I were a betting person, I’d put my money on either Buck Forbes or Tia Tuesday.”

“According to my files, Buck Forbes is Miss Peggy Jo’s ex-husband, so I can see why you’d consider him a suspect, but who is Tia Tuesday?”

“Tia? She’s the airhead bimbo on a local rival station who has an exercise-and-fitness show on at the same time Self-Made Woman airs. Our show has been beating hers in the ratings ever since her show debuted last year, and the woman has made no secret that she despises Peggy Jo. She’s been saying some pretty mean things ever since Peggy Jo’s show got picked up for national syndication.”

“Is that it?” Jack asked. “Anybody else?”

“Those are the only people I know about, but couldn’t the stalker be somebody Peggy Jo doesn’t know?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, that’s always a possibility.” He patted Kayla on the shoulder. “Thanks for you help.”

“Anytime. I’d do anything for Peggy Jo.”

Jack glanced back at the set where his client was finishing up the last shot of the segment with the dietician. As soon as the spot concluded, Peggy Jo shook hands with her guest and thanked her profusely, then turned and walked off the set. She came straight toward Jack, walking with a confident strut, as if she owned the world. There was something downright appealing about a woman who was that self-assured. He couldn’t help wondering if her cocksure attitude was for real or just for show.

“You weren’t interrogating Kayla, were you?” Peggy Jo asked, her voice slightly on edge.

“I asked her a few questions,” Jack said, his tone defensive. “After all, she is your assistant and I thought she might have some insight into who your stalker might be.”

“Let me guess—her number-one suspect is Tia Tuesday.” Laughing softly, Peggy Jo shook her head. “Tia might dislike me, but she isn’t my stalker. For one thing the woman can’t go anywhere in Chattanooga without being recognized. Believe me she has the most recognizable boobs in town.”

“Ah, one of those.” Jack couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across his face. “But even the most recognizable boobs in Chattanooga could hire somebody to do her dirty work for her.”

“Okay, you’re right.” Peggy Jo reached out to touch his arm, but paused, her hand in midair. “Look, we’ll talk on my lunch break. Right now, I need to freshen my makeup and glance over the information on my next guest, a counselor who’s going to discuss dealing with depression during the holidays.”

Jack nodded, then when she headed toward the door that opened into the corridor that led to her office, he followed her. The minute she realized he was marching along behind her, she stopped and turned to face him.

“I’m just going to the powder room,” she said.