Page 28 of Jasmine Street Blues

Brendan chimed in. He was cheerier than the other two, more wide awake. “We can do that. King Bubbles.”

Mac showed the boys where the food was stored, in a high cabinet on the back porch. “Take him for a walk this morning and another this afternoon. I’ll walk him tonight.” He showed the boys where the leash was stored, next to the little bags for dog poop. Billy in particular was repulsed by the prospect of that particular job.

They could come and go by the back yard. The door from the porch to the kitchen would remain locked. He might trust these boys with the dog, at least for now, but in his house? Unsupervised? No way.

The Four Bs left through the back door. Mac watched them until they were out of sight.

They needed to learn responsibility, and Bubbles needed more care than a man with a full time job could offer. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be keeping an eye on them all today, and tomorrow. The Three Bs would be under observation until he was assured they were treating the dog well.

It was going to be a very long summer.

* * *

When Loran had first heard about Colt seeing ghosts, she hadn’t believed it. Her own compulsion to paint those who’d died should’ve made her a believer, but there were so many scammers and con artists in the world she never accepted anything or anyone at face value. Besides, believing would’ve compelled her to talk to Colt, to ask questions and maybe get answers about her own weird ability.

It had been easier to dismiss him as a crackpot and move on, keeping her secret and keeping her distance. The simple truth was, she didn’t trust Colt, or anyone else.

Mac was the exception. Or becoming one. She trusted him, even though she hadn’t known him long enough. She wanted another kiss, and more. Maybe it was nothing more than her biological clock ticking away, a basic, primal attraction. Chief Maxwell was fine, she had to admit. Big, handsome in a manly way, charming but not glib.

As she rearranged the display of jewelry, which she did almost every day, she heard the door open. She knew before she turned around that it was Mac. She felt it, heard it in his step.

She assumed he was here to ask, again, if she’d expand on her explanation of what and how she painted dead people. He was reaching for clues, searching for answers. It was a lot to ask of her and he knew it, but she saw the desperation in him, had heard it as he’d confessed to her last night.

Last night hadn’t worked out the way she’d expected and hoped it would. She’d been ready to spend the night in his bed, to open herself in a way she hadn’t for a very long time. A night with Mac would be escape, pleasure, a chance to put everything that was wrong in her life behind her for a few hours. Now it looked like that might never happen. A normal relationship, even a temporary one, wasn’t meant for her. She prepared herself to tell him that she hadn’t attempted to draw out a clue to Carrie’s whereabouts, and that she might never be able to.

Before she said anything he asked, “How are you this morning? Yesterday was…”

“Pretty crazy,” she said when he faltered.

“It was that,” he grumbled. “Look, I shouldn’t have said so much. In the heat of the moment I guess I was in shock, or something. I admit, I’ve been obsessed with finding Carrie for years, and I haven’t made progress in way too long. I appreciate your willingness to help, but finding her isn’t your problem.”

Instead of coming here to push her for more, he was giving her a chance to walk away. She always, always walked away.

“Why do I feel like it is?” she whispered. She cared about Mac, wanted more from him even though she realized she might never have it. When he hurt she hurt. She wanted to help. That meant something,

He looked at her hard, with those narrowed eyes that seemed to see everything. Inside and out, good and bad, he saw her. “I thought you might stop by this morning.”

Because… “Oh, oh! The boys and Bubbles. I completely forgot! How did it go?”

“Fine, as far as I can tell. I’ll be keeping an eye on them until I’m sure they’re up to the job.”

“Are you going to tail them in your police car as they walk the dog?”

“Tempting, but if I do that how will they learn? No, I won’t personally be watching, but I have my spies in place. A neighbor and the newest deputy have their orders. Zach thinks this is some kind of hazing deal.”

Loran laughed, and as she did realized how infrequently she’d laughed in the past few years. She hadn’t had much cause.

“What are you doing tonight?” Mac asked.

“I have no plans.”

“Let’s make plans,” he said in a low voice.

Her insides churned; something strong and new and promising shot through her entire body. If the thought of spending the night with Mac made her tingle from head to toe, what would actually sharing a bed with him do to her?

“I don’t know,” she said. “You have your hands full, and you’re… distracted.”

“I’ve been searching for Carrie for five years and this is the closest I’ve ever come to having answers. I’ve been distracted the entire time, as if a part of me was always somewhere else. Right now I’m glad to have hope. She’s alive. There have been times, bad nights, when I wasn’t sure that was possible. I’m not going to give up on Carrie, but until I have a few answers there’s not a whole lot I can do. And then there’s you,” he continued in a lowered voice. “I haven’t let a woman get under my skin for a long time, but here you are. I’m not going to give up on Carrie, but at the same time I don’t want to let you slip away.”