Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 02 - Murder Takes the Cake (29 page)

“
Good thing the Franklin building was still vacant. Jeff was able to lease it for a song. Old Man Franklin even gave him an option of buying it later if Jeff decides not to rebuild,” Mac said.

Rachel placed dessert plates filled with slices of pie on the tray.
“Jeff sounded positive about rebuilding. I gather from what he said it’s only a matter of getting the insurance money and choosing a contractor.”

He knew Jeff was more worried than he
‘d let on. They’d had a brief conversation about it at the police station after the fire. The building was insured, but Jeff wasn’t sure it would cover all the improvements needed for a new construction. Jeff’s old building had been grandfathered in on some of the building codes.

“
Winter weather could slow things down,” Mac warned. “Sometimes things don’t go as fast as you might expect. Keeping the business running at the other building is a wise decision, a safe choice.”

She smiled at him, then looked down at the tray, shifting the plates for no discernable reason.
“Is that what you want too? Safe choices? What are we doing, Mac?”

There it was. Over the past week, he
‘d expected this conversation several times, avoided it, even prepared for it. Then here it was, with no warning. He really hadn’t expected to have it in the O’Herlihy kitchen.

“
Rachel, I…”

The kitchen door opened with a bang. Edgar and JJ walked in, Whiskey trailing behind.

“What are you doing in here?” JJ asked. “We’re supposed to hurry you guys up. Kathleen is serving the coffee.”

“
Shoot, I don’t care what you two are up to in here, I just want the pie. Wallace and I have a couple of football games to play.” Edgar frowned, then added, “What are you doing?”

Rachel looked at JJ.
“Will you take this tray into the other room. Mac and I need to talk.”

JJ glanced at Mac
‘s somber expression, then quickly grabbed the tray. “Edgar, open the door for me.”

“
Bossy, aren’t you,” Edgar grumbled, walking around her and pushing the door open. “Wallace likes bossy women. Told me so himself.”

JJ
‘s words weren’t clear through the door, but her tone was.

Whiskey walked over and leaned against Mac
‘s leg, almost pushing him off balance. Mac smiled. “What am I doing? Stalling for time?”

Rachel smiled, but her voice was firm, her intent clear.
“I’ve spent the last ten years of my life in neutral. I’m ready to shift gears.”

No delaying this conversation now. Mac thought about his options. He could.… No. Maybe he should.… He really didn
‘t have options.

Reaching out, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“There’s a wishbone lying on that tray with the turkey leftovers. Want to give it a tug and see who gets their wish?”

“
You don’t believe in coincidences and I don’t believe in leaving anything to fate,” she whispered, reaching up to lay her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t want to keep waiting to start my life. Can you understand that? If you don’t feel the same way, please tell me now.”

He put a finger over her lips.
“It seems like we’ve only–”

Bridget and Jeff burst into the room.
“I know it’s over with Josh. Camille can have him and good riddance. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try and help him. His world’s been shattered.”

“
His world?” Jeff’s face was red, his patience worn thin. “Listen, baby girl of mine, thank your lucky stars he dumped you. Let Miss High Society Lady work her magic, not you. I’d bet dollars to donuts that Little Camille will dump Josh’s sorry ass so fast his head will spin. Sunday, we’re driving up to Boston and moving you out of that apartment. You can stay here.”

Bridget looked startled.
“Come home? I love you Dad, but that’s not happening. I’ll stay with a friend until I find a new apartment. I’m not letting the Laskys or the cops push me out of Boston.”

Jeff suddenly grinned.
“That’s the spirit, my girl.”

Bridget grin matched her father
‘s.

Jeff grabbed two of the uncut pies and headed back to the dining room, along with Bridget.

“Do you think we’re invisible?” Rachel asked, smiling. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Mac grinned and tightened his grip.
“We’d better hurry this up. Sean hasn’t been heard from lately.”

Rachel stared into his eyes.
“So what’s your answer, Mr. Sullivan?”

Whiskey took that moment to bark several times in succession.

“What she said,” Mac whispered, just as he kissed her. “What she said.”

The End