wood siding painted pistachio green with those cheap aluminum sliding windows that were original and maybe qualified as antiques by now, and there was a touch of gingerbread trim—an afterthought, she guessed, by some previous owner who’d wanted to jazz it up a little. Inside was a tiny wood-floored living room with a picture window overlooking the ocean, a small kitchen, mostly taken up by a large wine cooler; a bathroom at the back; and tacked on at one end and separated by a narrow corridor, the master—and only—bedroom.
She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes before seven. Ten minutes before the fabulously beautiful Allie Ray got here. She wondered what she was like. Mac certainly liked her, and besides she was paying him well to take care of her problems. Of course he couldn’t possibly be interested in the beautiful movie star, other than as a client who was in trouble that is. Still, as any woman knew, you couldn’t take that kind of high-wattage beauty and fame lightly.
The captain’s bell clanged unmusically, making her wince. Nothing she could say could get Mac to part with that cracked old bell. She took another sip of the good red he’d broken out from his best stash, kept in the properly refrigerated cooler that took up a good part of his tiny kitchen. For a wine buff like Mac, wine had priority over food, which after all, could be ordered in and delivered to his door. Just the way the pizzas were being delivered right this minute.
Smiling, she watched him through the window as he turned the oven to high, ready to reheat the pizzas, reaching into the cupboard for the hot peppers and shuffling plates around. He was looking particularly cute tonight in the baggy white linen pants she had chosen for him at the expensive little boutique on the Via Condotti, and an old black T-shirt faded through many washings to carbon gray. His hair was still wet from the shower and she knew exactly how his skin would smell, spicy and sexy and … well, she wouldn’t go there right now.
The captain’s bell rang again and she saw Mac hurry to answer it. Pirate was right behind him, barking enthusiastically as he opened the door and welcomed Allie Ray, one more time, into his home.
“Hi, good to see you again,” he said as the petite beauty smiled up at him.
“Good to see you too,” she murmured, standing on tiptoe putting an arm around his neck and kissing him on either cheek.
“I brought Fussy along.” She held up a small bundle of white fur whose black button eyes were half-hidden behind a long fringe. “It’s my housekeeper’s night off and I couldn’t leave her alone. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Err … no. No, of course not.” Mac eyed his own dog doubtfully, but Pirate just stared up at the Maltese, seeming stunned to have yet another female invading his home.
“Okay,” Mac said. “Let me get you a glass of wine. White or red?”
“Since it’s pizza how about red?”
“Perfect. I already opened one of my favorites.”
Allie walked with him to the kitchen, still clutching Fussy and followed by Pirate.
“A Nobile—Antinori ‘ninety-six,” Mac said, pouring her a glass. “I hope you’ll like it.”
She took a sip. “Hmm, delicious. I didn’t know you were a wine expert.”
“That’s probably because you don’t know very much about me, other than the guy you see on TV attempting to solve a few old crimes. Closed cases. With the generous help of the LAPD, of course, without whom none of it could take place.”
“I suppose not.” Leaning against the kitchen counter she took another sip. “But you know something, Mac. Somehow I feel I
really
know you anyway.”
Their eyes met. Surprised, he wondered if he was reading more in her words than she had meant. “There’s someoneI’d like you to meet,” he said quickly. And taking her arm, he walked her out onto the deck.
“Oh, hi.” Sunny got gracefully to her feet and found that she stood a good foot taller than the petite
She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes before seven. Ten minutes before the fabulously beautiful Allie Ray got here. She wondered what she was like. Mac certainly liked her, and besides she was paying him well to take care of her problems. Of course he couldn’t possibly be interested in the beautiful movie star, other than as a client who was in trouble that is. Still, as any woman knew, you couldn’t take that kind of high-wattage beauty and fame lightly.
The captain’s bell clanged unmusically, making her wince. Nothing she could say could get Mac to part with that cracked old bell. She took another sip of the good red he’d broken out from his best stash, kept in the properly refrigerated cooler that took up a good part of his tiny kitchen. For a wine buff like Mac, wine had priority over food, which after all, could be ordered in and delivered to his door. Just the way the pizzas were being delivered right this minute.
Smiling, she watched him through the window as he turned the oven to high, ready to reheat the pizzas, reaching into the cupboard for the hot peppers and shuffling plates around. He was looking particularly cute tonight in the baggy white linen pants she had chosen for him at the expensive little boutique on the Via Condotti, and an old black T-shirt faded through many washings to carbon gray. His hair was still wet from the shower and she knew exactly how his skin would smell, spicy and sexy and … well, she wouldn’t go there right now.
The captain’s bell rang again and she saw Mac hurry to answer it. Pirate was right behind him, barking enthusiastically as he opened the door and welcomed Allie Ray, one more time, into his home.
“Hi, good to see you again,” he said as the petite beauty smiled up at him.
“Good to see you too,” she murmured, standing on tiptoe putting an arm around his neck and kissing him on either cheek.
“I brought Fussy along.” She held up a small bundle of white fur whose black button eyes were half-hidden behind a long fringe. “It’s my housekeeper’s night off and I couldn’t leave her alone. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Err … no. No, of course not.” Mac eyed his own dog doubtfully, but Pirate just stared up at the Maltese, seeming stunned to have yet another female invading his home.
“Okay,” Mac said. “Let me get you a glass of wine. White or red?”
“Since it’s pizza how about red?”
“Perfect. I already opened one of my favorites.”
Allie walked with him to the kitchen, still clutching Fussy and followed by Pirate.
“A Nobile—Antinori ‘ninety-six,” Mac said, pouring her a glass. “I hope you’ll like it.”
She took a sip. “Hmm, delicious. I didn’t know you were a wine expert.”
“That’s probably because you don’t know very much about me, other than the guy you see on TV attempting to solve a few old crimes. Closed cases. With the generous help of the LAPD, of course, without whom none of it could take place.”
“I suppose not.” Leaning against the kitchen counter she took another sip. “But you know something, Mac. Somehow I feel I
really
know you anyway.”
Their eyes met. Surprised, he wondered if he was reading more in her words than she had meant. “There’s someoneI’d like you to meet,” he said quickly. And taking her arm, he walked her out onto the deck.
“Oh, hi.” Sunny got gracefully to her feet and found that she stood a good foot taller than the petite
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