Maggie Shayne - Thicker Than Water

“Not so much because you like us as to teach the others a lesson?”

“You’re a sharp one, MacKenzie. Just don’t let it go to your head.” Jax glanced at Jones. “You all right? You look a little pale.”

“Yeah. I just—It was quite a scene last night. I’m still not over it.”

“Understandable.” The lieutenant got to her feet. “Best get her out of here, MacKenzie. And remember what you agreed to here.”

“Will do.” Sean slid a protective arm around Julie, drawing her to her feet as if she were the poor, traumatized little female and he the big strong protective male.

That was all it took. Her head came up fast, and she snapped right the hell out of her little daze. “I’m fine,” she snapped. “And not in need of help, Lieutenant, though your concern is touching.”

With that, she headed for the door under her own steam, yanked it open and started down the hall. Sean caught up to her after retrieving the camera from the reception desk. “Hey, someone set your shoes on fire or what?”

“I just want to get out of here.” She stalked to the SUV and didn’t even try to get behind the wheel.

Sean set the camera in the back seat, then got in beside her. “What’s wrong? What did she say in there that knocked you on your ass like that?”

“Nothing. Nothing knocked me anywhere. I’m fine.”

“To hell you are. You didn’t even remember to pop in on Officer Friendly to ask if he found your car keys.”

She dug in her blazer pocket, pulled out a gold key-ring shaped like a pair of J’s and let the keys dangle from it. They were labeled. There was the magnetic strip that unlocked the doors at the station, a key marked “car,” another marked “office,” another marked “files.”

“He gave them to me when he told me about our invitation to see the token female,” she said.

“Me-ow.” She scowled, but Sean wasn’t going to let that remark go. “Jax is no token, she’s a damn good cop. And it wouldn’t hurt you any to treat her a little better. She can be a reporter’s best friend.”

“Oh, is that what she is? Your best friend?”

He gaped, totally thrown by this side of Jones and at a loss for words.

“Screw it,” she said. “At least I got my keys back. The officer said someone turned them in at the hotel’s front desk. Which doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, but at least they’re—oh, shit!”

“What?” He glanced at her, saw her staring at the keys, her eyes wider than they had been two seconds ago. “What?”

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