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An hour later, Mac was sitting in her office. She had texted Jeanine and Barry to let her know if the two unknown men returned, had sent a message over to Bernie to ask him for an update, and was waiting for any sort of word from Fitch. Now, she was wondering what else she could do, other than sit there and go quietly nuts.
Of course, she wasn’t alone. As usual, Di was with her, watching her tenderly, as she sat at her desk, drumming her fingers until she was convinced she’d pound a hole in the wood.
As she hadn’t spoken for at least fifteen minutes, Di wasn’t saying anything either, simply lending her his quiet support, while he crafted to pass the time.
Which is a much more productive way of dealing with the lack of news than trying to drum a hole in your cheap, ancient, passed-down desk.
As it was Winter, he was working on his Easter crafts to get ready for the very first, early visitors in the Spring. Right now, it was a truly adorable, plush, pink bunny with little flowers around its ear.
Mac sort of wished she could have it for herself, but she already had boxes full of them she’d bought before they’d gotten together. Still, she liked that Di’s immense, kind spirit got passed along to total strangers as they cherished his work, so she tried not to be greedy.
Since no one else was around to see her break and the silence was starting to get to her, she stared up at Di ironically.
“Aren’t you going to give me a stirring speech about how it will all be okay?”
Snorting slightly, Di gifted her a brief smile before he looked back to the delicate toy in his hands.
“It’s the calm before the storm. It always drives you crazy.”
He glanced up at her again.
“You never were a fan of sitting around quietly with nothing to do but wait.”
Feeling a bit like pouting, Mac knew her man knew her far too well.
“Well, you could at least give me a pep talk, so I can ignore it. That would make me feel better.”
He laughed out loud, and the gaze he gave her was adoring. Still, he wasn’t playing her game.
After another moment or so, she asked quietly, “Do you think I’ve done the right things?”
Apparently, she’d done something right. He actually stopped crafting for half a second to look at her. Then, he went over and pushed the door further closed—but still not all the way, in case someone had news to bring.
As always, the man knew her—although the whole department understood what her various levels of open door meant by now.
Wide open was Merciful Lord in heaven! Come distract me! I’m bored!
3/4 open meant, Okay, I’m working on something, but if you need anything, come on in.
Half-open indicated, All right, I’m seriously distracted by something, but I’m still open for basic business.
1/4 suggested that serious things were going on, but she should definitely be distracted if anything relatively important happened—and closed meant that she shouldn’t be bothered unless something was actually burning.
Standing closer to her desk, Di stared down on her, his dark eyes quiet and slightly worried.
“It’s frustrating, I know, but you’ve done what’s currently possible.”
And Mac knew it was true. Bernie was looking into the computer trails. They had Fitch following McCardle, which would hopefully lead them to whomever he might be working with. Having her out there with them would only get in the way.
While she could have been dashing around town trying to get more out of the Home Mowers Association and the Ladies Aid and City Council and maybe Nora, all this would do was tell them they were suspects. And, if they hadn’t done it, it would let them know what had happened, which Velveteen was trying to keep from being general public knowledge—not so much because she feared the results for herself but because she knew this town well. If they knew something big was happening, they’d panic—and fifty or more people flocking the mayor’s office and the sheriff’s department would not make this any easier to solve.
And that said nothing of trying to question any of the billionaires, like VanRowe. Thinking through it, Mac knew he’d be the most likely of the newcomers to be involved and had a long, bad history with the town and department. But the angry billionaire had made it immensely obvious that no police should come on his property unless he called them or they had not only a warrant but an arsenal, too. I think I’ll stop by for a quiet chat was definitely out.
When the phone finally rang, Mac’s nerves were already so on edge that she nearly startled slightly.
Well, that was embarrassing.
She prided herself on being impossible to ruffle. This case was definitely getting to her.
Picking up the phone, she heard Brad’s voice.
“Sheriff! Big problem!”
Suddenly, all of Mac’s nerves, which were already strung out, were on even higher alert. The mayor’s assistant was capable of being ruffled even less than she was, so if he was worried . . .
She put the phone on speaker so Di could hear it, too.
“What’s happened?” she wondered.
“Mayor Velveteen went to the Ladies Aid . . .”
“Why?” Mac broke in. Only yesterday, the mayor had made it clear once again that those women could come to her, not the other way around.
Sighing heavily, Brad sounded put out to be distracted from whatever he desperately needed to say, but he did answer.
“One of the younger women came and basically begged her to. She said she was worried that Mrs. Wannamaker was planning something, and the only way to keep her in check was to be sure the mayor was there, too.”
For a moment, Mac blinked. That seemed weird—and a bit suspicious. Besides, they clearly hadn’t gotten to the real issue here.
“What happened?” she growled, growing more worried by the second.
“That’s just it!” Brad nearly howled, and Mac and Di exchanged an anxious glance. “I came to pick her up, and all the ladies are . . . well, I don’t know whether they’re dead or alive. I think they’re breathing, but . . .”
But Mac and Di were already moving, Mac throwing on her coat, as Brad’s worried voice went on.
“I can’t wake Velveteen!”
With a single nod, Di was on the intercom, calling in the best of the officers to go with them. His pink bunny was abandoned on Mac’s desk.
“I don’t know what happened,” Brad’s voice on the speaker went on. “I mean . . . I . . .”
For a second, he made a desperate noise.
“Send help!”
But they were already out the door, Mac hanging up and then on the phone to the town’s only doctor to meet them there, as one more thought passed through her head.
Well, I wanted something to happen. Silly me.
And then they were on their way across town to see what had happened to their mayor and some of their most annoying female residents.