Текст книги "Crowned and Moldering"

Автор книги: Kate Carlisle

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

She smiled a little. “That does sound like Uncle Mac. Okay, I won’t worry about him too much, then.”

The program started up again and the conversation ended. When the show was over, I offered to let Callie stay with me in the house if she didn’t feel comfortable in the garage apartment. “I have a couple of bedrooms upstairs and there’s a big bathroom, too.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay in the apartment.” She slipped her feet back into her shoes and stood. “Uncle Mac is right next door and he might miss me.”

I chuckled and stood, too. “I know he would definitely miss you.”

I walked her out of the house and up the stairs, just to make sure she felt safe. Then I gave her a hug and waited on the balcony until I heard her door lock. “Sweet dreams.”

Mac’s door opened and he glanced out. Despite a serious case of bedhead and drowsy eyes, he looked completely awesome and outrageously attractive in boxers with no shirt. “Hey, Irish.”

“Hi, Mac. Callie and I were watching TV. I just walked her back to her room.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispered. “G’night.”

*   *   *

Tuesday morning, I was mooning around the kitchen, thinking about Mac’s words the night before. He’d never called me sweetheart. Did it mean anything? Probably not. He’d been half asleep, after all. Truth be told, he’d been more like three-quarters of the way asleep. So I would be stupid to believe the endearment had come from his heart. The word had, nonetheless, given me a cozy feeling that kept me warm all night.

“Does that make me a fool?” I asked Tiger, as the pretty orange cat wrapped herself around my foot. I picked her up and held her close, listening to the sound of her intense purring.

I went with yes. “Yes, I’m a fool,” I muttered into Tiger’s soft neck. And, yes, I had better things to do than flounce around the house, worrying about such dumb things. Today was the first day on the parking-lot job. I needed to be fully awake and alert.

The phone rang loudly and Tiger jumped out of my arms. Robbie barked, as if demanding to know who was calling so early. I agreed with him.

I grabbed it before the noisy thing could ring again.

“Hello?”

“It’s Chief Jensen,” he said gruffly, then softened his tone. “I mean, it’s Eric. Hi, Shannon.”

“Hi, Eric.” I held the phone between my ear and shoulder and poured myself a second cup of coffee. “What’s up?”

“Can you . . . that is, are you available for a consultation?”

I smiled at the difficulty he seemed to have when asking me for help. “Of course. Did you want to come over?”

“No. I need you to come to police headquarters. The sooner, the better.”

Chapter Ten

Eric was on the phone when I arrived at his office. He looked annoyed and stressed-out and he was pacing back and forth along the wall of windows on the west side of the room. When he saw me, he gestured toward one of the visitors’ chairs that faced his desk.

“We don’t have the budget,” Eric said, then paused to listen to whoever was speaking on the other side of that phone call. “Right. It would be pretty dumb to order DNA tests for every male in town over the age of thirty.”

DNA tests? Who was he talking to?

“That’s right,” Eric said. “We’ll have to take it on a case-by-case basis, depending on the evidence.”

Eric listened for another minute, then said, “Yeah, thanks, Jay. Keep me posted.” When he hung up, he looked fried.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“Medical examiner.”

“Everything okay?” I was sitting on the edge of my seat, ready to jump up and run out. “Should I come back later?”

“No, I need to talk to you right now.”

“Okay.” I scooted back in the chair and waited while he stared out the window for a moment. The view seemed to calm him down, because when he turned around and walked back to his desk, he was breathing easier and it looked like maybe his blood pressure was falling back to normal. But maybe he was just faking it.

“What’s going on, Eric?” I asked. “How can I help?”

He scowled. Not at me in particular, but at the world in general. At least, that’s what I chose to think, and I refused to take his bad mood personally.

“I really wish I didn’t have to involve you,” he said, still standing at the edge of his desk.

“I know, I know,” I said briskly. “I’ve heard it all before. You hate to trust me, but you have to. Blah, blah, blah, whatever. So, look,” I said, holding up my hand like a Girl Scout. “I swear myself to secrecy. On my honor, what’s said in this room will stay here. Like that Vegas commercial. What happens here in the jail stays in the jail. You called because you need my help, so let’s talk.”

I could see him biting back a smile. That was a good sign. Maybe he wouldn’t arrest me for being flippant to the lawman. I couldn’t help it, though. I was tired of his constant reminders that I wasn’t trustworthy. Because I was! Oh, sure, I’d discussed a few aspects of the case with Jane and Emily. And Mac. And Callie, too, now that I thought about it. But I hadn’t disclosed any deep dark secrets.

He sat in his chair and said without warning, “Lily Brogan was pregnant.”

It was like he was speaking in tongues or something. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe it. “Wh-what did you say?”

“Lily Brogan was pregnant when she died.”

“Oh.” I had to concentrate on breathing because it felt like I’d had the wind knocked out of me. “Oh my God.”

“We should’ve found out sooner, but the medical examiner’s office deals with cases coming in from three different counties. So he’s always backed up.”

“But . . .”

He finally seemed to notice that I was stunned and upset by the news he’d just dropped. “Sorry, Shannon. The thing is, the medical examiner found a tiny skeleton in with Lily’s bones.”

Chills skittered down my spine and the hair on my arms stood up in horror. Tears welled, too, but now wasn’t the time to get weepy. Still, my heart hurt for Lily and her baby and the future they would never have. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Jay estimates that Lily was at least three months pregnant.”

“Three months?” I wrapped my arms around my stomach, as though I could protect myself from the tragic news. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah.” He stared at the wall behind me. “Jay said the baby’s skeleton was still mostly cartilage, although bone was beginning to form at the joints. Knees, elbows, some teeth. It was about three-point-five inches long.”

His tone was eerily matter-of-fact but I knew he was hurting inside. I imagined a tiny skeleton three-and-a-half inches long and felt my spirit grieving. “Why are you telling me this?”

Through gritted teeth he said, “Because I need you to think harder, think back to that time, and give me the names of every single man Lily was involved with three months before she died.”

“Okay.” I nodded as if in a fog. “Okay. Wow. Well, we’ve gone over most of the people I remember. I told you about Cliff Hogarth.”

“Shannon, don’t give me his name just because you don’t like him. Was he truly involved with Lily or not?”

“I already told you he was.” I said it more petulantly than I meant to, but I didn’t like how he was getting in my face.

“Okay. Sorry.” He held up his hands in surrender as a way of acknowledging that he was being pushy. “Really, I’m sorry. I’m a little . . . well, this whole thing has blown up in our faces, and I’m angry—really angry—about it.”

“I don’t blame you. I’m currently in shock, but I’ll be moving toward angry any minute now.”

“You might want to hurry up,” he said curtly. “This case was unfortunate to begin with, but it just turned really ugly. Frankly, I was hoping to write it off as an unfortunate accident or misadventure, but the fact that Lily was pregnant makes me think somebody wanted to get rid of her and the baby. And that spells murder.”

“Oh, God.” I rubbed my stomach, feeling sick. Poor Lily. If only she’d had an understanding parent at home, she might’ve been able to get through this with family support. Instead she’d had only Cliff to lean on—if he even knew. Or if the baby was even his. Either way, I couldn’t see him being any help at all.

I knew instantly that it wasn’t fair to blame Cliff. At least until there was more evidence against him. But in my book, he was a big enough creep to have killed Lily and her unborn child. So until further notice, he was number one on my suspect list.

“So, that’s why you were talking about DNA tests.”

Eric’s eyes narrowed. “There you go, paying attention again.”

Whether he was kidding or not, his response made me laugh. “Yeah, it’s an irksome little habit of mine. So I guess this means the ME was able to extract the baby’s DNA, and now you’re going to want to run a DNA test on whoever you think is the father.”

“You’ve got the basics right there,” Eric said. “So, can you think of anyone else, any other male who was friendly with Lily? Maybe you saw her talking to some guy and it didn’t register at the time, but now it makes sense? Anyone, Shannon. I’m willing to grasp at straws to nail this guy.”

“I’m thinking.” I hated to name names off the top of my head, but that was what I was here for. “Okay, I’m just going to call out every male who was around at the time. Doesn’t mean I think he’s guilty, okay?”

“Noted.” He grabbed a pen and clicked it open. “I’ll write down the names.”

“Okay. So there’s Sean, of course, and his father, Hugh. And there’s Cliff and his buddy, Jason. I forgot about him before. Jason moved away years ago. They hung out with a bunch of other guys, but I can’t think of any of their names. They were older than me.”

“Okay.”

“And there were all the guys in the play with her.” I thought for a moment. “Bart Bockner played Danny, the lead.”

“He still living around here?”

“He’s not in Lighthouse Cove anymore, but I think he lives maybe ten or fifteen miles away. Tommy might know all these guys and where they live. And there were a couple of stagehands who were friendly with Lily.” I gave Eric the names of everyone I could remember seeing on a regular basis in the drama club. “I guess you could add the drama teacher, Mr. Peterson. He and Lily were always talking together because he was directing the play. I think he’s still teaching.”

“Good to know.”

I shrugged. “And as long as you have Mr. Peterson, you might as well add all the other teachers in school. There’s Mr. Delgado, Mr. Jones, Mr. Carver. And let’s not forget Dismal Dain. I know you already talked to him but I’ll bet he’s worth another shakedown.”

He glanced up. “Shakedown?”

I smiled. “Just wishful thinking, I guess.”

“Do you even know what shakedown means?”

I broke out in a grin. “Not really, but I’m hoping you’ll shake him silly.”

Eric shook his head. “Dream on. Anyone else?”

I threw my hands up, exasperated. “Everyone I went to school with is a possibility. I mean, Hal Logan went to school here. He was in Lizzie’s class and they’re both five years ahead of me. But Hal might’ve known Lily. And there’s Billy. He’s on my crew and went to school with me and Sean. And there’s Tommy. And Gus.”

“Wait. Are you talking about Hal Logan, your friend Lizzie’s husband? And Gus Peratti at the auto shop?”

“Right. We were in the same grade.”

“And Tommy,” he said flatly. “Your former boyfriend and my deputy chief.”

I gave him a pointed look. “You asked for the names of guys who went to school with Lily and me.”

“I did. But I’m more interested in any guys who were actually part of Lily’s circle. We can’t go around accusing the whole school.”

“But you asked,” I grumbled, then shook off my mood. “Okay, you can erase Tommy and Hal and Billy and Gus off the list. And Sean, too, as far as I’m concerned, but I know you have to at least consider him. Of course, he already agreed to your DNA test, so you’ve already proven he’s innocent, right?”

Eric didn’t answer, just gave me one of those looks that told me I’d ventured into unwelcome territory, so I moved along with my theories. “Cliff, on the other hand, is a definite suspect. And his buddy Jason, too, although I don’t know how you’d track him down. Mr. Dain is another definite, in my humble opinion. Bart and the other actors in the play were with Lily almost every night for three months leading up to the Spring Festival. They should all be investigated. Not that I’m telling you how to do your job.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Besides Bart, how do I get the names of the other actors? Do you have a yearbook?”

“I do, but you’d be better off looking at the playbill for that year. They’re all on display in the glass case outside the theater auditorium. And they’ll have not only the actors, but the A/V guys and the prop guys and stagehands and carpenters. Not that a carpenter could ever be the bad guy.”

“Of course not.”

“I’ll be working at the school tomorrow,” I said. “I could get the programs for you.”

He smiled for the first time. “No, thanks, but I appreciate the offer.” He set down his pen and sat back in his chair. “So, you got the job at the school.”

“Yes. I’m excited about it. My crew and I are expanding and resurfacing the senior parking lot and erecting solar canopies.”

“Really smart idea.”

“I think so, too.” I stood to leave, then remembered something. “Why don’t you ask Denise Jones for some names? She would know if Lily was ever with one special guy.” I didn’t mention that I knew he’d already talked to her. It couldn’t hurt to ask her again, right?

Eric’s jaw clenched even tighter than before and I stepped back in shock. “Oh, my God. Denise is a suspect?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“Nothing is interesting, Shannon,” he said flatly. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”

I grinned. “I do. But before I go, maybe I should mention that I was out at the nursery on Sunday and I talked to Denise.”

“Why?”

It wasn’t easy, but I managed to keep from rolling my eyes at the very question, not to mention his tone. “Because she’s a friend and she works at the nursery where I’ve been buying plants for most of my life.”

“Okay, just checking.”

I sighed. “You’re a suspicious guy, aren’t you?”

“Comes with the job.”

“Understood. Anyway, Denise and I were talking about Dismal Dain and the horrible stuff he told Lily. And Denise got so angry, she started pounding and hammering her shovel blade into the dirt. I don’t think she realized what she was doing, but it was weird and kind of violent.”

“What’s your point?”

I shrugged, unwilling to admit that I didn’t really have a point. “I just thought she seemed capable of killing someone with that shovel of hers. And she really hated Dismal Dain, so you might want to keep an eye on him.”

He gazed up at me. “I thought you hated him, too.”

Darn, he had me there. “I guess I do. But I wouldn’t kill him with my shovel.”

“I’ll make a note of that.”

*   *   *

I drove over to the high school as quickly as traffic would allow. Wade had promised to fill in for me until I could get there. I didn’t want the SolarLight people to think I was shirking my duties the first day on the job.

On the way, I thought about Lily and the sad fact that she was pregnant when she died. She must’ve been so frightened and alone. Or was she? What if she was happy to be pregnant, but her own father was furious to find out? Could Hugh Brogan have tracked her down and killed her for being promiscuous?

Or what if Cliff’s friend Jason was the father of Lily’s baby and Cliff was jealous? Jason was a good-looking guy back in high school. So Cliff could’ve killed Lily and then killed Jason, but not right then, since I remembered that Jason was still living in town until he left a few years after high school. Who knew where Jason was living now? Or if he was alive at all?

It was a ridiculous theory, but I liked it, along with a bunch of others I could dwell on and refine later when I had nothing better to do.

My head was spinning as I pulled into my temporary space in the faculty parking lot. I had to think about my attitude toward Cliff. I really didn’t like the man and wanted him to be guilty of all sorts of transgressions. But wishing didn’t make it so. Especially since Eric was scrupulous to a fault about following the rules and playing by the book. He would rely on the evidence to show him who was guilty and pay no attention at all to my pithy declaration that Cliff Hogarth was a big, fat creep.

I climbed down from my truck cab and spotted Wade and two other men walking on the path that led from the senior parking lot to the track field. Wade turned and saw me and waved as I approached. He introduced the other two men as company engineers, and we all shook hands.

For the next hour and a half, we walked the anticipated perimeter of the new parking lot, pointing out grading and other issues. The size was going to be impressive. Unfortunately, it would take up every bit of the landscaping and walkways to the very outer edge of the track field. The new southern perimeter would leave only a few feet of pathway between it and the tennis courts.

I was so glad Wade had agreed to be the point man on this job. His background was in engineering, and he had more hands-on experience than I did with grading and leveling land for pouring concrete and asphalt surfaces. I’d done plenty of smaller projects around town, but it would be dumb of me to pretend I knew more than I did, rather than handing off the job to the most qualified person. And I prided myself on being smart.

Ms. Barney joined us as we were taking down the final measurements, just in time to approve everything. “I went over the numbers with the original team from SolarLight,” she said. “I’m not concerned about the landscaping that borders the track field or the tennis courts. It’s more important to get the parking situation worked out.”

“I’m always happy to lay down more asphalt,” I assured her. “And you did say you were moving a lot of the flowers and plants to other areas, right?”

“That’s right,” she said, nodding. “Unfortunately, our students and parents will complain a lot more about the lack of parking than the lack of pretty flowers.”

“I guess I see their point.”

“The students will still have our beautiful front lawn to enjoy,” she said, “so I’m willing to sacrifice a little back here. And as long as you leave a narrow path around both sports areas, we’ll be okay.”

“It’s a deal,” I said, smiling.

*   *   *

That afternoon, while Wade, Carla, and I were meeting to juggle crew assignments, order supplies, and line up our asphalt subcontractor, my cell phone rang.

I saw Eric’s number and was almost afraid to answer it, wondering what new horrors the police chief intended to pass along. But I braced myself and said hello.

“Hey, Shannon,” he said, his deep voice sounding so much calmer than earlier today, thank goodness. “Forgot to mention when you were here that Mac’s house is no longer a crime scene. You and your guys are free to start work there whenever you want.”

“Thank you so much, Eric.” We chatted about nothing in particular for another moment; then I hung up and shared the news with my foremen.

“It’s about time,” Carla said. “I know you’re anxious to get back to work there, and Mac must be champing at the bit.”

“That’s for sure,” I said, relieved to know that Mac’s lighthouse mansion was finally on the road to becoming a real home for him. “I’ll call him as soon as we’re finished here.”

*   *   *

That night I invited Mac and Callie over for pasta and salad. Mac brought a bottle of wine. Callie had sparkling water—her favorite beverage, she said—and we toasted to the future success of the lighthouse-mansion rehab.

Robbie and Tiger were banished to just beyond the doorway, as usual. It was for everyone’s own good, because anytime I had other people helping to prepare food in the kitchen, the little ones would invariably trip someone up in their relentless quest for food droppings.

They were hardly starved for attention, though, since Callie darted over to pet them every other minute.

“Uncle Mac started writing that article today,” she said. “The one about the bones.”

I turned and gazed at Mac, who was stirring the red sauce in the big pot on the stove. “So you sold it.”

“I did,” he said with a grin. “They won’t actually print it until everything’s been resolved. I wouldn’t want the story to sway a jury.”

“No,” I agreed. “But I bet it helped sell it when you told them that the scene of the crime was your own house.”

“It definitely sealed the deal,” he said, grinning. “I love all the macabre aspects of finding bones in the basement and I plan to play it to the hilt. I mean, what all-American, hard-boiled mystery author wouldn’t be intrigued by the fact that his new house turned out to be a grisly murder scene?”

I glanced at Callie. “See what I mean?”

“I know. He’s totally not creeped out about the bones. It’s weird.”

Mac laughed shortly, but then sobered. “Please don’t get me wrong. The real story centers on Lily Brogan. What brought her to the mansion? Who were the important people in her life? And who was responsible for killing her? She was a beautiful young girl who died tragically. I’d like to make the article a sort of homage to her, but I didn’t know her. You did, Irish. So I’m wondering if you’ll consent to my interviewing you.”

I stopped slicing tomatoes to gaze at him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Sometime in the next few days, if you have time, I’d like to sit down and talk with you.”

“About Lily?”

“About everything that was going on back then. Not only at the high school, but all over town. The news, the politics, the gossip. I need some local background. I plan to do plenty of research and due diligence and talk to others, including the police, but I figure you know the history of just about everyone in town.”

“Well, not everyone.”

He gave me an indulgent smile. “You know the people Lily knew.”

I thought about Eric and what he would say about this. It was easy to conjure up an image of the police chief scowling at me, and it wasn’t pretty. I was always happy to help Mac, but since Eric had taken me into his confidence, I would have to walk a very thin line.

“I’d be thrilled to help you,” I said.

Mac had been watching me and now he grinned. “But you had to think it through for a minute. How come? Is it because of Sean?”

“He’s part of it.” I set three long green onions on the wooden surface and began to slice them into thin rounds. “But also I’ve sort of been doing the same thing for Eric. You know, giving him some background on who was around back then.”

Without asking, Callie pulled a knife from the drawer and joined me at the chopping block to start cutting up the cucumber I’d picked that afternoon.

I beamed at her. “Thanks, sweetie.”

“You’re welcome. It’s not fair that you’re doing all the work.”

“I don’t mind at all, but it’s always more enjoyable with others around.”

“Back at home, I don’t get to help in the kitchen, and I totally love cooking—or trying to, anyway. So this is fun for me.”

Not to be left out, Mac grabbed a head of fresh romaine, broke off the leaves, and washed them in the sink. Moving in next to me, he tore the leaves into smaller bits and added them to the salad bowl.

“Would you feel uncomfortable sharing the same information with me that you shared with Eric?” he asked.

I thought about it and concluded that all I’d really given Eric were names of people who’d been around back then. Names that Mac could find by himself, if he had a week to scour old yearbooks in the library. That would be a waste of his time. “No. I’ll be happy to share the information with you.”

“Did Eric reveal any confidential police evidence to you?”

Boy, did he ever, I thought, then frowned at Mac. Was I transparent or what? “Why do you ask?”

“Because you seemed troubled at first, and if it’s not about the information you gave him, then I’ll bet it’s about the confidential stuff he told you.”

I had to play back what he’d just said twice before I understood it. “Okay, yes. You’re right.”

“So now I understand your initial hesitation. Believe me, I won’t ask you to betray Eric’s confidence.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t do it.”

He grinned. “That’s okay. I’ll just talk to Eric about it.”

“Fine, but please don’t tell him I said anything. Just leave my name out of it. He already has enough of a problem trusting me.”

Mac laughed and slung his arm around me. “Don’t panic, baby. I’ll keep your secrets, just as you’re keeping his.”

“Thank you.” With him smiling down at me and his arm around my shoulders, it felt . . . cozy. Warm and wonderful. I really did enjoy spending time with Mac and, let’s face it, he wasn’t hard to look at.

“Besides, I don’t know what his problem is. You’re the most trustworthy person I’ve ever met.”

I stared at him for a long moment. “Thank you.”

He touched his glass to mine. “No. Thank you.”

Callie had been gazing back and forth at Mac and me, until she looked as if she were at a tennis tournament. “You two just had the most totally grown-up conversation I’ve ever heard. You didn’t yell or anything, and you ended up agreeing with each other.”

“That’s what grown-ups do,” Mac said, winking at me.

“I don’t think so,” she said, looking a little confused. “Karl and Mavis mostly just grunt and swear around each other. Unless I’m in the room, and then they pretty much clam up.”

Mac tried to hide his amusement. “They have their own special way of reaching consensus.”

I turned away from both of them to make up the dressing for the salad. I could barely breathe after hearing Mac call me . . . what he’d called me. Baby. I exhaled slowly. It didn’t mean anything; just another one of those words of endearment people tossed around. But then to hear him say he thought I was trustworthy? That was better than a declaration of love. Especially after enduring Eric’s suspicions for so long.

Was I blowing it all out of proportion? Was there something wrong with me? Why would having someone say he trusted me mean so much to me? Wouldn’t I rather be adored for my looks or my intelligence or my business savvy than my trustworthiness? It sounded so dry.

But it wasn’t dry at all. Trust was important.

The water was about to boil over, so I set those questions aside for the time being. Eventually I would have to figure out just how much Mac Sullivan meant to me and what I planned to do about it. If anything.

I stirred the linguini into the boiling water and listened to Mac and Callie teasing each other. Their voices faded to the background as I went back to pondering my strange love life—or lack thereof. If I were being truthful, I would admit that I’d recently considered taking things with Mac to a new level. But as I gazed at his niece now, I saw that my rather shaky plan would have to be put on hold.

Callie was a sweet girl, but she was going to be a handful for as long as she was staying with Mac. He was completely responsible for her right now, and I knew that it scared him to death like nothing else ever had. Okay, maybe not scared as in terrified, but he was at least worried. And he should be. Taking care of a teenager was going to be a lot of work, and I wasn’t all that sure Mac was used to having to share his time.

I gazed at Callie’s big blue eyes and the long blond hair streaming down her back. The boys at school had to have fallen halfway in love with her by now. That would be a challenge for any parent—or uncle, in Mac’s case—but doubly so for one with a beautiful girl like Callie. No wonder he’d expressed so much worry the other night.

What am I going to do with her? he’d probably wondered. I love her, but what do I know about taking care of a teenager?

And suddenly, in my mind’s eye, I was staring at Lily’s face. She had been a beautiful girl, too, and half the boys had been in love with her, as well. What a difference it might have made if her parents had been there for her, supervising her dates more carefully and worrying over where she might’ve been spending the night.

Time flipped back to the present. What would happen if there was someone like Cliff Hogarth in one of Callie’s classes? What if he developed an interest in Callie? Would she be able to distinguish the creeps from the good guys? Sometimes it was hard to tell. What if she ran into trouble? What if some smooth-talking boy lured her to some dreadful place, like the deserted lighthouse mansion? I hated to think of anything happening to Callie. And I hated to think that my beloved little town might have more tragedy in store for it.

I blinked and noticed Mac and Callie staring at me.

“Where’d you go?” he asked, amused.

“Sorry.” I grimaced. “Guess I zoned out for a minute.”

“It’s because you work so hard,” Callie said sympathetically.

I busied myself with dressing the salad and putting the bowl on the table, then turned and smiled. “Speaking of work, I’ll be working at the high school every day for the next week or so. That means I’ll be able to give you a ride in the mornings and drive you home each night.”

“That’d be great, Shannon. Thanks!”

Callie was happy, but Mac was looking at me like I’d gone a little crazy. I didn’t care. I knew Mac would be there for her, and so would I. And nothing was going to happen to her on my watch. Not in my town. Never again.