Clancy leaned his head back and closed his eyes in gratitude. Not only had his longtime friend held up a departure for Clancy, he’d covered his ass without even being asked. He owed the conductor a big favor, and he knew just what it would be. Since his wife had died, Old John had become so desperate for companionship that he could drive passengers crazy with his aimless chatter. Clancy decided he would invite him to the house for a meal, a game of checkers, and a leisurely chat.
“Well, there you go.” Clancy tried to sound matter-of-fact. “Since we don’t have an official witness statement, let’s not bother the FBI with it—I’m sure they’re completely overwhelmed with rumors at this point. Oh, and speaking of the case, are there any FBI updates?”
“None at the moment.”
“Ten-four, Chip. Thanks for checking in. I’ll be there a little before eleven. Are the boys causing you any trouble?”
“Nah. Mostly just sleeping.”
“Excellent. See you soon.”
“Chief?”
Clancy’s finger pulled away from the END CALL button. “Yep?”
“Is everything all right? I mean, I don’t mean to pry, but this morning you seemed real upset about something, and, well, I can’t remember the last time you forgot to check in. Is Mona all right? Has something happened to Duncan?”
“Everything’s good with the Flynns, Chip. No worries. I’m just running low on sleep. You know how it is during festival week—and my canine alarm clocks sure aren’t helping.”
Mercifully, Chip seemed satisfied with his answer and said good-bye.
Clancy pulled out the electric skillet, started some sausage patties, and began to whip up the batter. Just then, the bathroom door opened. He heard little bare feet run across the floorboards.
“I know you. You’re the policemans from the water!”
He smiled down at the cute little girl. Her short dark hair smelled like shampoo and her eyes sparkled. She was dressed in another unisex kind of T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. He wasn’t sure how to play this—would he continue pretending she was a boy? Could he call her Christina? Should he stick with Chris? He couldn’t help but think that if this was a challenge for him—a grown man—it had had to be confusing as hell for a little kid her age. Yet she seemed perfectly at ease.
“That’s me, kiddo. On land and on sea, I’m always a police officer.” Clancy let his eyes flash to Evie. She looked refreshed, too. Her face was smooth and dry, and for a woman in her thirties wearing no makeup and being hunted down by the feds, she looked damn good. Rosy and soft—but not exactly relaxed.
There were deep grooves between her light brown eyebrows. Her pretty mouth was pulled tight. And she stood about as stiff as a mainsail. It was then that Clancy remembered he was in uniform.
“Anybody a vegetarian?”
“Not us,” Evie said softly. She cautiously entered the kitchen space and picked up Christina, propping her on a perfectly shaped hip. Clearly, Evie didn’t want to let the little girl out of her sight. “Is there any way I might use your washer and dryer?”
“Please do. They’re right in here.” He nodded to the mudroom. “The load in there right now will be done shortly.” Clancy gave Evie a friendly smile, and she responded with a small upward twitch of her lips. In an attempt to break the ice a bit, he pushed a kitchen stool to the sink and retrieved a colander from an overhead shelf. He turned to Christina. “Would you like to help with the blueberries?”
“Yes! Yes! I love blueberries!” She wiggled out of Evie’s grasp and climbed up on the stool. Clancy placed the pint of fresh blueberries in her hands and wrapped her fingers around the cardboard container. “Can you dump all the berries in here?”