“Okay.” I pulled my hands back to the safety of my lap.
I told him everything Seth and I had done that morning, only leaving out the embarrassing part about wrestling Baxter into the car twice. I also decided not to mention Tuffy’s testimony involving bacon. Mac liked the facts and wanted nothing to do with any intuition, or messages from other places. I left out the part about the tarot as well; he already seemed tense enough.
“So, you’re working as a dog walker?” It was the first time he had really smiled since I walked in. In this context, it was irritating.
I just looked at him, trying for the flat eyes Seth used so effectively.
“I heard about what happened in Ann Arbor,” he said, rearranging the files on his desk. “You’re a great officer. You can’t let one . . .”
“Thanks for the concern, Mac.” I gave him a look that said he had gone far enough. “By the way, why are you back here?”
“Maybe we can have coffee sometime and I’ll tell you all about it.” He grinned, but it looked more like a grimace, and as he stood up I noticed the cane leaning behind the desk. He caught me staring at it, and the set of his jaw dared me to question him.
“Let me know if you need anything else” was all I said.
“I’ll need to interview the boy.”
“His name is Seth, and he’s really been shaken by this. Try to be nice.”
A brief wounded look crossed his face, followed by his stoic stare.
“I’ll have Andrews deal with him. He’s always nice.” Mac showed me his teeth, and he reminded me of a shark.
I was about to respond when Tom himself came careening around the corner of the door from the front office.
“Sir! We found him!” He stopped abruptly when he saw me, and his face turned bright red. “Oh, hi. I didn’t know you were here.”
“What is it, Andrews?” Mac growled.
“It’s about the case, sir.” He cut his eyes to me and back to Mac, raising his eyebrows.
“You can tell me in front of Ms. Fortune. She’s still technically a police officer, even if she chooses to walk dogs instead.”
“Okay.” He smiled at me. “Well, we tracked the ex-husband to Chicago; he flew out of Grand Rapids this morning. We just got confirmation that he was on the flight and it landed safely.”
“Do you know where he is now?” Mac asked.
“Well, no.” Tom slumped. “He’s there on business, and his office said since he made his own arrangements they don’t know where he’s staying.” He hung his head as if he was expecting to be yelled at. “We have a list of the places he usually stays, and Lisa is calling them now to see if we can track him down,” he said to his shoes.
“Okay, good work. We’ll need to question him as soon as we find him.”
Tom’s head snapped up and he stood straighter, looking relieved.
“Have you located the daughters yet?” I asked.
“Charla went out to talk to them. She hasn’t checked in yet,” Tom said.
Charla Roberts was the acting Chief of Police for the Crystal Haven police force. She’d refused to officially accept the position since she stepped in when her husband, Dean, had died. She’d helped me figure out my own career path in late high school after a few minor run-ins with her in her official capacity. I adored her, but she wasn’t very warm and fuzzy. I hoped she would handle Sara’s daughters gently. For all the communicating with the dead that occurred here, Crystal Haven had minimal experience with murder.
5
I stepped onto the sidewalk outside the police station and into the familiar heat of July in Michigan and felt my shoulders relax. I had known coming back to Crystal Haven would be stressful, but I hadn’t counted on Mac. The last time I’d heard anything he’d been working in Saginaw, on the opposite side of the state. Aunt Vi had informed me—after my bags were unpacked—that Mac had returned to the county sheriff’s department as a detective. Because his mother still lives in Crystal Haven, I’d assumed we would run into each other eventually, but not like this. We had done an excellent job of avoiding each other when we lived a couple of hours apart in Saginaw and Ann Arbor. It would be much more difficult in a small town.