Sliding off the corner of the desk, she walked out of the office to find Mrs. Dupree had freed Mac and was trying to urge him into a desk chair again.
“Time to go,” CJ announced, bringing a halt to Mrs. Dupree’s nattering.
“Go?” the woman echoed with dismay. “Go where?”
Even as she did, Mac was sprinting to CJ’s side, asking cheerfully, “Where are we off to now?”
CJ hesitated, but then ignored his question in favor of asking Mrs. Dupree, “Is there a spare coat and hat here to disguise Mr. Argeneau for the walk to my car? Just in case the arsonist is out there watching for him to leave,” she added when the captain’s wife continued to simply glare at her.
The last comment worked. Mrs. Dupree’s eyes widened, the glare dropping away at once, and she whirled and rushed into the captain’s office.
“Surely a disguise isn’t necessary,” Mac muttered as they watched the lady bustle out of sight.
“Better safe than sorry,” CJ said simply, and was relieved to see the captain’s wife return quickly. She was carrying an officer’s dress coat and cap—probably the captain’s, was CJ’s guess, but she didn’t ask and simply waited for Mac to don them both. Once he’d finished, they both looked him over. He looked ridiculous, of course. The jacket was tight across the shoulders, but far too large at the waist, and his checkered, flannel pajama bottoms just did not go well with the fancy dress jacket and cap.
“Just let me get the pants,” Mrs. Dupree said suddenly as she rushed away again.
Mac shifted his shoulders in the jacket and made a dissatisfied face, but neither of them spoke as they waited for Mrs. Dupree. She returned a moment later, carrying the outfit’s matching dress pants still on a hanger.
“They’ll be a bit large for you, but at least they’ll fit over your pajama bottoms,” Mrs. Dupree said as she reached Mac’s side and tugged the pants off the hanger. “You might have to hold them up though.”
Mac sighed, but accepted the pants and pulled them on over his own clothes.
“Do you have twist ties?” CJ asked Mrs. Dupree as she watched Mac clutch the pants in hand to keep them from falling down once they were up.
The captain’s wife nodded and hustled off again, this time disappearing through the door that led to the hallway to the kitchenette and cells. When she returned, she had several large green twist ties, probably from a package of garbage bags.
CJ murmured, “Thank you,” took one, and moved to Mac’s side to quickly slide the tie through three belt loops of the dress pants, then twisted it closed and stepped back to survey her handiwork. When Mac released them and the pants were still loose and nearly fell, she accepted another twist tie from the lady and walked around to Mac’s other side to gather two more loops with it. This time when she stepped back and he released his hold on the pants, they stayed in place.
“I look ridiculous,” Mac said, scowling down at the bunched-up pants.
“The coat will cover it,” CJ assured him, before adding, “And it’s dark out. It’ll be fine.”
Mac grunted, but let the coat drop to cover the top of the pants, and then surveyed himself briefly, before nodding and holding one arm out to her in a courtly gesture. “Shall we?”
CJ stared blankly at the offered arm, but didn’t take it. Instead, she snorted and swung on her heel to lead the way out of the bullpen.
Mac followed silently until they were crossing the front reception room, and then he said, “Catherine Jane.”
“Oh, good Lord! Don’t start that again,” she snapped with irritation.
“It seems to me I should get to know the woman who is going to guard my body,” he responded lightly.
“Not necessary,” she assured him as she pushed the front door of the station open and paused to glance around, looking for cars in the parking lot, or anyone who might be watching. She didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone there.
“Keep your head down so no one can see your face,” she instructed as she started forward again, allowing him out of the building.
“You must really hate your names,” Mac commented as he followed her to the car.
CJ looked over her shoulder to be sure he had his head down, but didn’t acknowledge his words. She merely took his elbow to hurry him along to the car. She hit the button on her key fob to unlock it as they approached, and then opened the front passenger door, scanned the empty parking lot as she waited for him to get in, and then closed it for him once he was seated before hurrying around to the driver’s side.
“Well, this is strange,” Mac commented as she slid behind the wheel and pulled her own door closed.
“What is?” she asked absently, her eyes dancing around the parking lot as she buckled up and started the engine.
“You seeing me into the car,” he explained. “I am usually the one who does that when with a lady.”
“I’m not a lady. I’m your bodyguard,” CJ reminded him grimly as she shifted gears and backed out of the parking spot. “Do up your seat belt and keep your head down.”
He did as instructed, and then remained silent as she steered them out of the parking lot and onto the road. Much to her surprise, he stayed silent even after that as she divided her attention between driving and watching the rearview mirror for anyone who might be following them. This late at night, or early in the morning as the case may be, there weren’t a lot of people out driving around, and no one seemed to be following them. Still, CJ drove twice around the block where the bed-and-breakfast was to make sure they didn’t have a tail before pulling into the driveway and steering her car around to the small parking area behind the old Victorian house.
“I feel bad about having to wake up Millie at this hour to rent a room,” Mac murmured as they got out and headed for the back door of the house.
“Yeah,” CJ breathed, a frown taking over her face. Millie Vesper was a widow in her late sixties whose children had grown up and moved to the city, leaving her alone in the town where she’d grown up, married, and raised her own family. Apparently, her children had wanted to sell her house and move her to a seniors’ home in the city to be close to them, but Millie had refused and had turned her home into a bed-and-breakfast instead. CJ suspected the woman had done it for company rather than out of any need for money. The woman had chatted away nonstop to her every chance she’d got. CJ had only arrived a couple of hours before she’d headed to the station and had spent most of that time listening to the chatty, but dear, lady tell her about the town of Sandford and its inhabitants. CJ now had the lowdown on who was sleeping with whom, and who wasn’t getting along in their marriage. At least she knew the names of the troubled and misbehaving individuals, but since she didn’t know anyone in this town, she didn’t have faces to put with them.
CJ had listened with polite interest to what had amounted to a soap opera of the goings-on in town, but it wasn’t until she was driving to her appointment at the police station that she’d considered that she should maybe ask Mrs. Vesper about the people there, and Jefferson in particular. CJ suspected the woman would have an earful to tell her, but wasn’t sure if that would be a good thing or not. She was supposed to investigate objectively, and she worried Mrs. Vesper’s bias might influence her.