“Is that the place they call the graveyard about twenty miles down the coast?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Most of the boats are mothballed and in dry dock. The guys were just goofing around, checking out some of the old tubs and daring each other to climb on board.”
I frowned. “Did they find anything interesting?”
“They came across some old weapons and explosives.” He shook his head.
“You realize these guys are close to eighty years old, right?”
“Yeah, but they’re still kids at heart. I think it’s great.”
“But . . . explosives? Ordnance?”
“They didn’t do anything stupid. They went directly to the commander in charge of the yard and reported what they found. The guy gave them a reward.”
“He gave them money?”
“No, he bought them all beers at a local dive bar.”
I smiled. “That’s way better than money.”
“Absolutely.”
But just thinking about Jesse and his pals rooting around an old, rusty ship that had unspent bombs stashed on board gave me the chills. “They could’ve been hurt.”
“Yeah, I know,” Mac allowed, “but they got out of there without incident and they did a good deed by reporting it.”
“I just hope Jesse didn’t bring anything home,” I grumbled, then winced, knowing I sounded like somebody’s mother. But good grief, those old codgers could’ve gotten themselves into a lot of trouble.
Mac’s eyes twinkled, so I figured he was trying not to laugh at me. “You mean, like some kind of trophy?”
“Exactly. I can just see him bringing home a trophy bomb.” And wouldn’t that be special? I thought. Living next door to a live bomb. Oh, Jesse.
“Don’t worry,” Mac said. “He would never have brought back anything dangerous.”
“You promise?”
He thought for a minute. “I’m almost certain.”
I shook my head. “Men are weird.”
“You got that right,” he said with a grin. “And on that note, I’d better get going and let you go back to sleep. I’ll call Eric first thing in the morning to have him check out Jesse’s backyard.”
“He should probably check inside the house again, too,” I said.
“Right.” After a surprisingly chaste kiss on the cheek, Mac murmured, “Sweet dreams, Irish.”
*
Eric paced the room, wearing a scowl on his face so intense I thought it might become permanent. I was seated in a side chair in my living room, feeling at a distinct disadvantage since he towered over me even when I was standing.
He had been at Jesse’s house earlier that morning with a team of investigators, searching for possible clues and evidence of the break-in the night before.
“I want to know,” he said, “if you experienced even the smallest inkling of doubt before you ran over to Jesse’s house in the middle of the night without first calling me.”
I started to speak, but he held up his hand to stop me.
“You ran over to Jesse’s house,” he reiterated, “where, I might remind you, the man died recently. A man you seem to think was murdered. And you still gave no thought to making a quick call to the police because that might be the smart thing to do.”
“I—”
He stopped me again.
“Okay, go ahead,” he said two seconds later. He wore a determined grin and I thought he might be kind of proud of himself for keeping me from talking again. I had to give him that.
I took a deep breath and said, “I realize it was a dumb thing to do. I was halfway up Jesse’s driveway when I turned around to go home and call the police.”
“That’s so weird,” he said, thinking back. “I didn’t get a call.”
“I know, because right at that moment was when Mac showed up.”
“Oh, Mac showed up.” Eric pressed his hands together in a sign of conciliation. “In that case, everything’s okay. Sorry I yelled at you.”
“Really?”
“No,” he bellowed. “Don’t go into that house again without first calling the police. That’s an order.”
*
Two hours later, I was still smarting from Eric’s lecture. I felt stupid and small and a little bit misunderstood, so I decided to work in the garden for a while. That always calmed me down and soothed my spirit. I called Wade to tell him I’d be available by phone and justified my staying home by pledging to work on payroll over the weekend. Besides, I’d stayed up way past my bedtime last night, so I wouldn’t be of much use at any of the jobsites anyway. I wasn’t too proud to admit to him that I’d screwed up. Wade told me to lighten up and go pull some weeds. Sound advice, I thought.