“Good idea,” I said, relieved that he wasn’t going to put me in a precarious position with Eric. Now that I had finally won the police chief’s trust and we were friends, I didn’t want to go back to the days when he had looked at me with suspicion.
Mac gazed at me as he sipped his wine. “Would you let me into the house without my talking to the police?”
I thought for a minute. “I guess I might, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it.”
He nodded and took a bite of baby potato. “One of the many things I like about you is that you believe in following the rules.”
Nonplussed, I said, “I’m a simple small-town girl. I don’t generally break the rules.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re anything but simple. And not everyone in a small town follows the rules. What I meant was that you instinctively and regularly choose to do the right thing.”
“Oh.” Why did it feel as if I’d just been insulted? Maybe I was projecting. I knew myself well enough to accept that I’d always been a little afraid to walk on the wild side. Still. “You should know that I’ve skirted the law on occasion.”
“I’m shocked.” His smile widened. “What’d you do? Wear white shoes after Labor Day?”
I scowled at him. “Maybe.”
“You’re a bold and dangerous woman.”
“And don’t you forget it,” I muttered, and stabbed at my green beans.
He laughed. “I remember a high school rule that nice girls never wear black and red on Fridays. I’ll bet you break that rule constantly.”
Ignoring him, I sipped my wine. “I’ve been mocked by better men than you.”
“Really?”
I glanced over, caught his infectious grin, and gave up any pretense of annoyance. “No, you’re about the best.”
His eyes widened—with pleasure?—and he leaned over and kissed me. My mind went blank for a moment. The man was an amazing kisser.
“You are a dangerous woman, Shannon Hammer.”
I blinked at the seriousness of his words. “Thank you, I think.”
“You’re welcome.” He sat back and picked up his fork. “And because you care, I do intend to follow the rules in this case. I’ll talk to Eric tomorrow and get his okay for you and me to go inside Jesse’s house.”
I ate my last bite of salmon and green beans before nodding at him. “Good.”
“Eric won’t be happy,” he said, dredging his final piece of sea bass through the sauce.
“Why not? He likes you.”
His smile was vague. “I talked to the mayor today and got his approval to hang out and follow the cops wherever they go around town.”
“Why do you need the mayor’s approval?”
“Because I’m starting a new mystery series set in a small town and I want complete access to everything the police do.”
“Oh.” I grabbed my wineglass and took a long drink. A mystery series in a small town? Written by MacKintyre Sullivan? This was big news. I had so many questions I didn’t know where to start. “The police don’t generally like having civilians tagging along with them, do they?”
“Not one little bit.” He popped that last piece of fish into his mouth. “Should be fun. I’ll keep you posted.”
Chapter Four
On the walk home from dinner, I asked Mac if he’d heard any of the various noises the neighbors had described hearing over the last few weeks.
“Loud engine noises?” he said. “Pounding? No. I haven’t heard much of anything, but then, my schedule is all screwed up lately. For some reason, I’ve been falling asleep early and waking up at the crack of dawn to write all day.”
“I thought you wrote at night.”
“I usually do,” he said, scratching his head. “I can’t explain why it all switched. I’ve got this new series in my head and it seems to want to be written in the light of day.”
“Interesting,” I said.
“Weird.”
“That, too.”
He grabbed my hand and held on to it as we walked the rest of the way home in companionable silence. At my kitchen steps, he said, “Thanks for coming out with me.”
“Thank you,” I said. “It was fun.”
He touched his forehead to mine. “Maybe one of these nights you’ll invite me in.”
“Maybe I will.”
“There’s no rule against it.”
I laughed. “Shows what you know.”
He pressed his lips lightly against my cheek. “My small-town girl has rules I’ve yet to discover.”
“Maybe one or two.”
“Sounds fair.” With a half smile, he added, “Good night, Irish.”
“Good night, Mac.”
*
The following day, Emily became an official homeowner and I drove over to meet her at the Rawley Mansion to do our first inspection of the interior. I’d taken lots of notes based on our many conversations and now I wanted to get a good, close look to figure out what it would take to bring the house into the new millennium. My foreman Wade Chambers joined us.