Abandon - Carla Neggers [35]
“Nasty stuff, this brew,” he said as he joined Mackenzie at the end of the dock.
She squinted at him and smiled. “It is pretty bad.”
“Any snakes in this lake?”
“Not poisonous ones.” She drank more of her coffee, shifting her gaze back to the water. “Rook, am I part of some FBI investigation?”
“Mac…”
She looked at him again. “I’m serious. Am I?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Bernadette?”
He took another sip, wondering how old the can of coffee was.
Mackenzie sighed audibly. “Not answering. Okay, fine. I understand. Thanks for sticking around last night, but you can go on back to D.C. Take an earlier flight.” Her tone wasn’t harsh. “There’s nothing for you to do here.”
“I have a few people I should see while I’m here.”
“FBI buddies?” She dumped the last of her coffee into the lake. “Maybe it should only have perked for six minutes. I forget.”
Taking her mug with her, she walked back to the porch, stumbling on the steps. If he pointed out her unsteadiness, Rook figured she’d just tell him she needed a second cup of coffee. Or breakfast. Or more marshmallows. Anything to keep him at bay.
But she’d be like this anyway, he realized. He had nothing to do with it. She was independent, determined, impatient with her own vulnerability and her reduced capacity to get out there and hunt their fugitive—a frustration he could well understand.
When he returned to the kitchen, she was cracking eggs into a cast-iron frying pan on the stove. “Carine brought enough food for a week, never mind a weekend. If there’s one positive about yesterday, it’s that I was here, not her.” She grabbed another egg, cracked it, tossed the shell back into the carton. “And Harry. Nothing happened to him.”
“I can finish up breakfast.”
“My turn to wait on you.”
She rinsed her hands at the sink and dried them on a dish towel hung on a drawer handle. Rook eased in behind her and grasped her right wrist, avoiding her injured left side. “Mac.” He didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry. I was a damn heel.”
She sucked in a breath, which made her wince in pain. “Apology accepted.” She angled a look up at him and grinned suddenly, a flash of pure mischief in her very blue eyes. “Bastard. So, where were you and Harris on Wednesday? I figure you were in the hotel bar, and you saw Bernadette and me together, realized we were friends and decided then and there you had to dump me.”
Rook kissed the top of her head. “You’re going to burn the eggs.”
“I’m going to burn you,” she replied. “Am I close to describing what happened? If I hadn’t gone to that damn party, we’d have had dinner together. I probably wouldn’t even have been here yesterday to get sliced.”
“You’re speculating.”
“So? I’m on pain medication. I’m entitled. And you’re not going to confirm or deny that you canceled dinner because you found out that Beanie and I are friends.” She flipped the eggs, which were fast turning to rubber. “So, are you going to reschedule your flight and leave early?”
“Not going to let up, are you?”
She just smiled at him.
Rook made toast to go with the eggs, which were at least as bad as his coffee. He wasn’t leaving early. He’d check with the investigators for any new lead on their fugitive slasher. He’d told them yesterday to let him know if J. Harris Mayer turned up anywhere. But it was a long shot, and they had to look at the evidence. Harris wasn’t their priority.
Rook wasn’t even sure if his missing judge was his priority. But Harris had left many loose ends, and the timing of his disappearance was, if nothing else, provocative. Rook’s job wasn’t to investigate the attacks yesterday; it was to locate Harris.
Time to get back to Washington and step up the search for his AWOL judge.
Mackenzie ignored the pull of pain in her side as she pushed through ferns to a narrow trail her attacker must have followed yesterday. The police had already been here with search dogs. But she wanted to satisfy herself; she couldn’t just sit on the porch and swat mosquitoes.
Rook, of course, was right behind her. He hadn’t left for Washington yet. And he still