Page 40 of Jasmine Street Blues

“If you don’t want it…”

“Are you kidding?” he interrupted. “I don’t have any kind of decent picture of Carrie since she was a kid. This is beautiful, even if it breaks my heart a little.”

“Police Chief Maxwell has a heart,” she said. “Who knew?”

Loran propped the portrait of Carrie against the wall. She shouldn’t have come here. She’d been so angry with him yesterday, so hurt that he’d even ask the questions he’d asked. But Mac was a good man and she liked him. She liked him a lot, so much more than she should. Maybe it was just the sex that had her brain muddled, but she didn’t think so.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you yesterday,” she said.

“You had reason.”

“I just… I don’t want to leave, but I have to.”

“No you don’t,” he said. Mac moved toward her, and she didn’t step away. “Stay. Let me take care of you.”

“I don’t want a man to take care of me,” she said. “Eventually you’ll discover that I’m more trouble than I’m worth, and…”

He kissed her, taking her by surprise with a quick and deep kiss that made her want to say yes, that made her want even more to stay.

The kiss ended too soon. “I messed up, I know I did, but dammit, it would be so easy to fall in love with you,” he whispered.

No, no, no. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. “Don’t.”

“Too late. I already love you.” He kissed her again, until her head was spinning and she actually thought about saying Yes, yes I’ll stay.

His hand settled on her hip. She swayed into him, pressing her body against his. Bad idea, Loran, bad idea. She didn’t move away and neither did he. Not until Bubbles nosed his way between them.

Loran laughed. “Bubbles has the run of the house, I see.”

“It’s July,” Mac said. “In Mississippi.”

“Softie,” she whispered.

There was no reason they couldn’t be together one more time before she left. No matter what Mac said, she didn’t have a choice. She had to go.

“Hey, Chief, we need more of those poop bags,” a young voice called out. Brant Hill stood just a few feet away.

Mac stepped back and so did she.

“How did you get into the house?” Mac bellowed.

Brant stopped and took his own step back. “Sorry. I tried knocking but you didn’t answer. I used the doggie door to get inside.”

“That’s breaking and entering,” Mac said in a slightly calmer voice.

“I didn’t break anything,” Brant argued.

“I’ll pick up more bags today,” Mac said.

Brant looked at the painting Loran had delivered. He stepped to the side so he could get a better look. His brow furrowed, a little, his lips pursed. “Why do you have a painting of Carrie?”

13

Mac held his breath for a long minute. Shit! He’d searched Seawolf Beach high and low, he’d asked everyone he knew and some he didn’t about Carrie, showing the only photo he had, telling them how old she’d be now. He didn’t share any details, didn’t tell anyone why he wanted to find her. He was Police Chief. He didn’t need to offer a reason.

Until now he hadn’t had a decent picture of Carrie, just that old one of her a the age of seven. And he’d never asked kids. Why would he? Would it have made a difference?

He looked toward the back porch, where the other boys waited. Only Brant had been brave enough to slip through the doggie door.