Life wasn’t about where he lived, it was about the life happening around him. If Claire were here, along with Butch, Grady, and the rest—well, minus Deborah, then Jackrabbit Junction would do just fine for him.
Solving where to live was all good and fine, but what in the hell did a geotechnician do in this dusty pit stop to make money? He couldn’t tend bar the rest of his life, could he?
“Hey, Mac!” Ronnie’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. She jogged up to the bar, her face flushed from either the limbo fun or the gin and tonic he’d made her a half hour ago. “Can I get a pitcher of the local brew for the guys over in the corner?”
He grabbed a pitcher and started filling it, checking the crowd for Claire again. There she was, up with Natalie, talking to her cousin while she chalked her pool cue. Butch was there, too, showing something on his phone to Coop.
Mac focused on the foam in the pitcher as it rose. How was he going to keep Claire safe until this damned killer was found?
He glanced toward Grady with a grin. “Have you thought any more about locking Ronnie and Claire up in your jail until you find the killer?” He was only partly kidding. If the two trouble magnets sat in jail, they’d be much safer than anywhere else around here.
“Real funny, Mac,” Ronnie said, sidling up next to Grady. “Don’t listen to him, Sheriff Hardass.”
Grady put his arm around Ronnie’s waist, pulling her closer. He smiled up at her. “It’s a good idea, Ms. Morgan.”
Ronnie squinted back. “Watch it, boy, or I’ll handcuff you to the bed again.”
“Again?” Penny asked, her gaze bouncing between Ronnie and her brother.
Grady grumbled something into his beer that Mac couldn’t hear.
Ronnie laughed. “He was showing me how handcuffs work and forgot he’d left the key in his other pants.”
“Wait until I tell Aunt Millie,” Penny said.
“Don’t even think about it, Penelope Sue.”
Penny glanced toward the pool tables and did a double take, her smile fading. Mac followed her gaze, watching Coop rack the balls while Natalie pretended to stretch, her expression cocky and taunting. Mississippi sat at a nearby table, drinking his iced tea as he looked out over the bar.
“I see your FBI pal is here,” she said to Ronnie as Mac was handing over the pitcher.
“Leave it alone, Penny,” Grady growled.
Mac waited until Ronnie had walked away to ask Grady, “Are they bringing in more FBI agents to help catch the diamond killer?”
Grady shook his head. “According to Mississippi, the FBI is still set on tying this diamond mess to Veronica’s ex and his cache of missing stones. They don’t see any reason to send backup agents until the killer attempts some sort of action directly against Veronica; otherwise they are wasting resources. They figure the killer might sit for another stretch of time before making a move. They have one guy here. In their opinion, that’s enough.”
“Assholes,” Mac muttered, realizing Ronnie must have finally told Grady about the FBI’s newest screw job and the need to catch the killer alive to save her bacon.
“Mississippi tried to tell me that the FBI’s faith in my department’s ability to protect Veronica is a compliment—but he couldn’t say it with a straight face.”
Mac took another drink of Jack and Coke to wash down the bitterness that the FBI’s decision left in his mouth.
“What kind of a name is ‘Mississippi’?” Penny asked with a curled upper lip.
Grady shrugged. “I don’t know. If it perturbs you so much, why don’t you go ask him yourself, hotshot?”
“Maybe I will.” She picked up her Shirley Temple and took off in the direction of the pool tables.
Mac chuckled. “Your sister reminds me of Ronnie and Claire when it comes to the FBI. Did she have a run-in with them at some point in the past?”
“You could say that. She was engaged to an agent when she lived in San Francisco.”
“What happened?”
“She seems to suffer the same fate as me—ending up on the shitty side of infidelity.” He grinned. “When she found out what he’d been up to, she chased him around his apartment with a hotshot. That sort of became her nickname in the family.”
“You mean a cattle prod?” When Grady nodded, Mac laughed. “Why did he have a cattle prod in his apartment?”
Grady groaned. “Don’t ask.”
“Mississippi better watch out.” Mac finished his Jack and Coke, setting the glass off to the side for a refill later. “Then again, maybe he’d like being zapped.” Same as Coop’s uncle.
“Penny has a sharp tongue. I’m just glad she’s sparring with him tonight and not me.”
“So, how’s Ronnie doing after what happened to Tank?” Mac hadn’t really had a chance to talk to anyone other than Claire. He’d slept most of the afternoon and been busy pouring drinks since walking into The Shaft.
“Your guess is as good as mine. When I talked to her earlier on the phone, she said she was ready to deal with what was coming her way.” Grady shook his head, his forehead lined. “I’m worried about what that means. Has Claire said anything that sounded the alarms in your head since she found out about Tank this morning?”
Mac chuckled. “She says stuff constantly that makes my alarms ring.” He thought back to their conversation earlier after she’d come in from working on the deck to hit the shower. “But she hasn’t said anything out of the ordinary.”
Now that he thought about it, she’d had a grim look on her face when she was brushing her hair in the mirror after her shower. Her smile had seemed forced on the way to The Shaft, too, but he’d just figured she was tired. “Something is different, though. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Grady scratched his jaw. “Maybe it’s stress.”
“Could be. Being on a hit list can’t be easy on
