“Maybe, but he likes Ronnie.”
“Really?” He frowned at her. “Does Grady know that?”
“Not like-like. He just likes her in general and thinks she’s getting screwed on this deal.”
“Glad to hear it. And he’s right.” Mac slowed, keeping the pickup under the speed limit. “But if Grady gets the opportunity to take out the killer, he might.” He shot her a hard look. “Hell, I would in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you breathing.”
“Which is why I told you about this mess.”
Yuccaville’s streets were empty besides stray tumbleweeds here and there. They rolled along in silence for a few beats.
“Someone should tell him Ronnie needs this bastard alive to clear her name, Claire.” The shadows deepened the scowl lines on his face.
Mac wasn’t letting go of this. She didn’t blame him, because it made no sense. “Ronnie is mortified at the idea of Grady finding out about this, especially with him coming up on an election year. She wants to keep this all hush-hush as long as possible.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t give a flying fuck about Grady being elected again, and I bet if she’d ask him he doesn’t either. What good will it be for him to serve another four years as the county sheriff if she’s dead?” His grip tightened on her hand. “Or both of you are?”
She nodded. He’d said pretty much the same thing last night in the supply room after she’d told him about the catch-22 situation, and then he’d whispered it one last time when he pulled her close before they fell asleep.
“Come with me to Tucson today, Slugger. Let me keep you tucked away safe from this shit storm for a night.” He circled his thumb on her palm. “I promise to make it worth your while.”
“Will you take me with you to the jobsite?”
Both eyebrows were raised when he looked her way. “You want to hang out with me there? It could be a few hours while I assess the situation.”
“I don’t want to sit alone at the house.” It would give her too much time to think up new worries.
“Yeah, sure. I’d enjoy your company. I always do.”
“Okay, let me think about the ramifications of leaving for a night.” She stared out her side window. “It would just be one night, right? I mean, you guys aren’t going to work on New Year’s, are you?”
He hesitated, but then shook his head. “If you come with me, I’ll make sure we don’t, whatever it takes.”
“Because I’ll need to be back tomorrow night to help Kate at The Shaft. New Year’s Eve is sure to be a big party there.”
“I’ll have you back here in time to help with the happy hour rush.”
Claire leaned back against the headrest. “If I go to Tucson with you, then I could convince Natalie to take a break from building the porch and go on that trip with Coop to Fort Bowie.”
Mac had told her about the detective’s request for their help in convincing Natalie to spend time with him. While Claire wasn’t thrilled at the idea of her cousin hooking up with a cop, she agreed with Mac that the guy deserved some of Natalie’s time after following her clear to this dusty corner of Arizona.
The only snag in heading to Tucson for the night was Kate. Aside from being temporarily insane, could she afford to lose Claire’s help at The Shaft? Sundays were the slow nights lately, and Kate had talked about closing early, so maybe Claire wouldn’t be missed.
But what about Ronnie and the crap raining down on her? Then again, she did have an FBI agent babysitting her and the sheriff of the whole damned county sleeping next to her.
“Whose idea was it to form this ‘Prickly Posse,’ anyway?” Mac asked as he parked in front of Joe’s boarded-up childhood home. Locked away behind a six-foot-high chain-link fence, the old A-frame, two-story house had seen better days too long ago to remember, judging from the rotting clapboard siding and “Property Condemned” sign on the porch railing.
“It’s the ‘Prickly Pear Posse,’ ” she corrected, turning back to him. “Natalie and I came up with it Friday night while you were helping Kate clean the kitchen.”
“Weren’t you two having a drinking contest that night?”
“Why does everybody think there was alcohol involved with our grand idea?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Who won the contest?”
“She did, but it was still a good idea come morning, so we’re sticking to it.”
He killed the engine. “What exactly does being in this posse entail besides keeping secrets?”
“Watching each other’s backs and going to battle when the situation calls for it.”
He crossed his arms. “What else?”
“Helping out when a member is in need, whether you agree or not, and taking turns bailing each other out of jail with no questions asked.” Although, given Kate’s current mental state, Claire would like to change this rule to allow several questions before rushing to bail her out.
“How come you didn’t ask me to be in it?”
“Boys aren’t allowed.”
“Does that mean I don’t have to bail you out of jail next time?”
She sputtered. “I … well … no, you still might have to help me depending on the bail amount.”
He grinned. “Do you have matching jackets?”
“Maybe we do, smartass.”
“So, if I help you and Ronnie deal with this new FBI bullshit, could I be arrested for being in cahoots with the Prickly Pear Posse?”
“With Kate in the picture, serving time behind bars is always a possibility.”
He snorted. “Whose bright idea was it to let Crazy Kate into your club?”
“It’s not a club. This is a badass posse.”
“It might end up more of a bad-idea posse before this is all over and done.”
“For the record, I voted against Kate being included due to her temporary insanity, but Ronnie let her in the door anyway.”
Damn Ronnie’s weakness when it came to Kate.
“Do Grady and Butch know about this posse,
