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Tuck grabbed a can of beer and placed it on the bar before Mac. You couldn’t wipe that smile off the man’s face if you used a scrub brush.

Mac took the beer and tried not to growl. “You could’ve told me you had plans for Thursday. Did you really want an audience for your proposal?”

“That wasn’t the original plan,” Tuck said. “I’ve always planned to propose at Maggie’s, and what difference did it make that there were two more witnesses? Besides, Olive was determined to get you and Loran together, and I didn’t want to spoil her fun.”

Is that what this was? Fun?

“After she insisted we make dinner at Maggie’s a double date, I decided to ask her when we got home,” Tuck continued. “But I couldn’t wait. The ring was burning a hole in my pocket.”

“What if she’d said no?”

Tuck laughed.

Confident. Happy. In love. Mac had been all those things too, at one time. Jaded as he was, he knew Olive and Kylie had nothing in common. Absolutely nothing.

“Hungry?” Tuck asked.

“I already ate.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not hungry.”

“I’m not hungry,” Mac said, then he took a drink of the cold beer.

Tuck moved to another customer. He had plenty of them tonight, so he’d be on the run. One beer, Mac decided, and then he’d head for home. If anything came up that required the Police Chief he’d get a call. On his cell, on the radio, he was always available. The dispatchers for the county knew to call him if it was appropriate. Saved the city some money, and so far it had worked out well.

Drew was on call tonight, so it would take a major event to get Mac on duty.

Before he finished his drink, his one beer, his newest hire sidled up to him.

“Hey, Chief,” Zach said. “What brings you here?”

Mac lifted the beer can in answer.

Zach Ward, Seawolf Beach born and raised, smiled and lifted his own can. “If you have a minute, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Work?”

“Yeah.”

“Can it wait?”

Zach’s smile faded and he took a step back. “I suppose, but…”

The disappointment in the kid’s voice got to Mac. He wanted and needed officers who cared. “Shoot.”

Zach leaned in. “Hart, the guy at the record store. I’ve heard some wild things about him and what went on at that wedding. Whispers, mostly, just a few. Is it true? Can he really talk to ghosts?”

Talk about a loaded question. I saw my ex-wife that day wasn’t exactly a confession Mac wanted to make. “So they say.”

Zach was about to come out of his skin, so antsy he couldn’t stay still. A twitch here, a shiver there. “If it’s true, if Hart can really, you know, we can, you know, use him. People who are murdered, who die in accidents, who go missing. Why don’t we ask Hart to talk to ghosts that can solve crimes? It could be the person who was killed or just like a dead investigator who sees what happens or just knows, somehow. I don’t get how it works, but it seems like there are a few possibilities.” There it was, another twitch. “Can you imagine the clearance rate?” he finished, awe in his voice.

Mac glared. “From what little I know, it doesn’t work that way. It’s not that simple.” Yeah, that had worked with Anna’s brother, to a point, but since Colt only talked to the ghosts who came to him, since he refused to call others, he was only minimally effective. If he could, if he would, maybe they’d be able to find out what had happened to Carrie. Kylie obviously knew something.

“Can’t he just…”

Mac drained his beer. “Drop it. Trust me when I tell you, it won’t work.”

Zach looked disappointed.