Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters (except the ones I made up) or the premise. They belong to you-know-who.
Author Notes: Warning - Strong language in a couple of spots, which I will disguise.
Harm worked his way to the conference room, wondering what staff call would bring today. Not much, he hoped – his
plate was already full. He nodded absently at uniformed people on his journey, only vaguely aware of their presence,
studying his notes for the suppression hearing he had to attend later this morning. Defense counsel was attempting
to keep a crucial piece of evidence out on the flimsiest of grounds. The trouble was that Sturgis was wily enough
to pull it off, and Harm had to be on his toes. Part of his mind was also occupied by the trial he was scheduled
to begin Monday.
He walked into the conference room, knowing the way by memory, without really having to look where he was going.
He took his usual seat at the table, at the Admiral’s right hand, and continued to peruse his notes.
"Good morning, Harm," Sturgis said pointedly.
"Morning, Sturgis," Harm answered without looking up. "I’m gonna kick your butt today."
Sturgis’ response was a muffled snort/chuckle.
"Good morning, Harm," a sweetly-familiar voice said.
"Morning, Mac," he said automatically. Wait a minute! Mac?! He looked up to find his wife smiling at him, clearly
amused by his preoccupation. "Mac! What are *you* doing here?"
"I was invited," she told him.
"Invited? By whom? For what?"
At that moment, Admiral AJ Chegwidden entered the room, and all popped to attention, even Mac, who was no longer
required to do so. Old habits are hard to break.
"As you were, people," he said, and everyone returned to their seats.
As AJ sat, he said, "Mac! I’m glad you could joint us. Haven’t seen you much lately. The twins are, what, two
months old now?"
"Four months, Admiral," Mac corrected him.
"Boy, time flies," he noted. "They sleeping through the night yet?"
"Yes, thankfully!"
"They must keep you busy."
"Oh, you’ve got that right!"
Harm followed their conversation like a tennis match, wondering all the while what on earth she was doing here.
Was she coming back to work? Wouldn’t she have told him if she was coming back to work? What was going on? Where
were the kids? How come the Admiral never asked *him* about the kids?
"And the other kids?" the Admiral continued. "How are they?"
"They’re fine. Sabbrina’s playing basketball. Matt’s into everything. Molly’s walking all over the place. You
know, it’s been too long. You and Sidney will have to come to dinner some time soon."
"We’d love to! Just give Sidney a call and set it up."
"I’ll do that, Admiral."
Harm felt sure he was going to bust from curiosity if he didn’t find out soon what was going on here. Finally,
the Admiral turned to address them all.
"Before we begin, there’s one little item I’d like to get out of the way. Commander, would you stand up, please."
Bewildered, Harm did as he was asked. The Admiral stood up as well, and everyone else followed suit.
"You look confused, Mr. Rabb," the Admiral noted, apparently quite pleased by that fact.
"A little, sir," Harm admitted. *A lot* was more like it.
"Didn’t I tell you you were on the promotion list?"
"No, sir," Harm said. He would definitely have remembered *that*.
"Must’ve slipped my mind," AJ said, smiling, making it more than obvious that the "slip" had been nothing but
intentional.
"Isn’t it a little soon, sir?" Harm asked. It seemed as though he’d been a commander such a short time.
"Not really. Don’t forget, when you returned from the undercover assignment, the SecNav promoted you retroactively
to the date you supposedly went MIA," the Admiral reminded him.
Harm hadn’t really forgotten. With the retroactive promotion had come four years of retroactive pay, all of it
combat pay. That big a chunk of change was hard to forget. It had allowed them to pay off Mac’s house, establish
savings accounts for the children, and finance most of the renovations on the new house. But still, the last few
years had gone by in such a blur, it felt like a year since his return instead of the three that had actually
passed.
"Raise your right hand and repeat after me," the Admiral ordered, raising his own right hand. As his smiling friends
and wife looked on, Harm repeated his oath of office. "I will bear true faith and allegiance to the Constitution of
the United States and the country whose course it directs. I take this obligation freely and without any mental
reservations. And I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office I am about to take." (AN: I
lifted this oath from The Return, when Harm is promoted to Lt. Commander.)
"So help me God," the Admiral coached.
"So help me God," Harm repeated.
"You are hereby promoted to the rank of Captain," the Admiral said, beaming proudly at him.
They shook hands.
"Thank you, sir," Harm said. "This is very . . . unexpected."
"But very deserved," the Admiral said, handing out unusual praise. "Your testimony helped disband a very active
and profitable arms smuggling operation."
"B*st#*d kidnapped my daughter, sir. I would have preferred to kill him with my bare hands."
"And had you done that, you’d be likely sitting in Leavenworth today instead of receiving a kiss from your wife
to congratulate you on your promotion," the Admiral pointed out.
On cue, Mac stepped up and kissed Harm chastely on the cheek. Harm pulled her into his embrace. Looking at the
Admiral over her shoulder, he said, "Yes, sir. Things do have a way of working themselves out, don’t they?"
"That they do, *Captain* Rabb," AJ agreed. "That they do."
After everyone else had had an opportunity to congratulate Harm, the Admiral said, "I don’t think we’ll be needing
you any further today, Captain. Why don’t you take your lovely wife home?"
"But I have a suppression hearing later today," Harm pointed out.
"Postponed," the Admiral barked.
"And the Tuesday court martial starts Monday, sir," Harm said, aware how silly that sounded.
"Not for you, it doesn’t," the Admiral said.
"Sir?"
"It’s been reassigned, Mr. Rabb. We’ll talk about it Monday. Come see me first thing."
Harm (and everyone else) stared at the Admiral, amazed by his uncharacteristic munificence. Their reaction made
AJ immediately regret his generosity. Seeing that the Admiral was becoming displeased by everyone’s reaction,
Mac took Harm’s arm and began to steer him toward the door before the Admiral changed his mind. "Thank you, sir,"
she said. "You’re very kind."
The Admiral only grunted, apparently in recognition of the perception that he wasn’t kind very often.
"The wet-down will be at our house tonight," Mac announced to the gathered officers. "Please pass the word.
Everyone’s invited. "We’ll eat at eighteen hundred."
"We look forward to it," AJ said.
Mac towed Harm from the room.
"You knew about this!" Harm said accusingly after the conference room door had closed.
"Of course I did," she said. "That’s why I’m here."
"Where are the kids?"
"At home with your parents. They flew in last night," Mac told him.
"*They* knew, too?! Did everyone know but me?"
Mac thought about that for a moment. "I don’t think the JAG cleaning lady knew, but yeah, everyone else did."
They’d been walking while they talked, and they now reached his office. As he followed her inside, he said, "Have
you all had fun keeping your little secret?"
"I’m so proud of you, Harm," Mac said, suddenly turning serious. She hugged him again, fiercely.
"Thank you," he said, holding her right back. "For being here."
She pulled away. "Wouldn’t have missed it." She looked out at the activity in the bullpen. "Sometimes, I really
miss this place," she said wistfully.
"Just sometimes?"
"Only when I let myself think about it," she said. "And I don’t usually have the time. But I have no regrets."
"What do you say we go home? I’ll trick Mom and Frank into taking the kids somewhere, and we can be alone all day
to celebrate," he suggested.
"You’d have to be pretty sneaky to trick someone into taking on two toddlers and two infants. Pretty mean, too."
Harm sighed with exaggerated disappointment. "You’re right. Well, maybe we can catch five minutes alone in the
broom closet."
Mac laughed. "We don’t have a broom closet."
"I’ll build one."
Mac grabbed Harm’s tie and pulled him toward the door. "Come on, Captain Kirk. Your space ship awaits."
"Beam me up, Scotty," Harm requested with a suggestive leer.
Finally, the last of the revelers had gone, and Mac was able to get the three older children into bed. The twins
had gone at their usual time, unimpressed by their father’s promotion or the celebration that attended it. There
was no way, however, that the older kids were going to miss a party, and Mac hadn’t even attempted to put them
into bed until almost everyone had gone.
When Mac returned to the kitchen, she found Trish washing glasses in the sink. "You don’t have to do that!" she
protested.
"The dishwasher’s full," Trish said.
"Just leave them," Mac requested. "I’ll get them in the morning."
"Nonsense, dear," Trish said. "You should learn to accept help in whatever form you can get it."
Mac sighed, defeated. "All right." She walked around the living room, picking up glasses and other party debris. It
had been a great party, and everyone from JAG had come. Harm really did work with a great group of people, and
they’d become more than just co-workers. Mac realized she was sniffing the glass in her hand, which had clearly
held beer. Embarrassed, Mac jerked the glass away from her face.
Trish had noticed. "Does it still bother you?" she asked.
Mac smiled self-consciously. "Funny, isn’t it? Even after all this time, it’s still got a hold on me. I suppose
it’s just never going to disappear completely. Where are the guys?"
"Downstairs. Harm’s showing Frank the den. I can’t tell you how good it is to see them as close as they are."
"Becoming a father himself made Harm realize how much Frank gave to him. And I don’t mean material things. Frank
gave of himself. Harm just couldn’t or wouldn’t see that before. Now he knows how difficult it is to be a good
parent, and he sees Frank in a different light."
The objects of their discussion came up the stairs now, talking about wiring and other electrical issues.
"Kids asleep?" Frank asked.
Mac nodded. "All partied out."
Trish and Frank exchanged a look, which both Mac and Harm noticed. Trish washed the last glass and set it to drain,
then dried her hands. "There’s something we’d like to discuss with you two."
"Oh oh," Harm said. "This sounds serious."
"It’s not that serious," Trish assured him. "I made coffee. Would you like some?"
When they all had cups and were seated around the table, Trish began. "Frank and I have been thinking a lot
lately that we’d like to spend more time with the kids. They’re growing so fast!"
"You know you’re welcome here any time, mom," Harm pointed out.
"We know that, dear. But we’ve been thinking about maybe spending summers out here. You don’t want to have us
underfoot for months at a time."
"Why do I think you’ve cooked up some plan?" Harm asked.
"Because you know your mother too well," Frank said with a smile.
Trish took a deep breath. "We’d like to buy a couple of acres from you and build a house out here. Maybe in the
northwest corner. That way, we can be near the kids, but not be *here* all the time. You don’t have to answer
us tonight. You can take some time to think about it and talk privately. And don’t be afraid to say no. I’ll
understand if you don’t want meddling grandparents smothering you."
Mac looked at Harm briefly. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and she felt comfortable speaking for both
of them. "We don’t consider you to be meddling grandparents. You’re wonderful grandparents, and the kids would
be lucky to have you close by. We’d love to see more of you, too, but we’re not going to sell you land. If you
want it, you’re going to have to just take it."
"We couldn’t do that," Frank said. "We’ll have to pay you a fair market price. I insist on that."
"Frank, we’re not selling you the land. We can’t use all that we’ve got anyway," Harm insisted.
Trish could see that a battle of wills was developing here, a battle that no one would win tonight. "Let me make
a suggestion," she offered. "Why don’t we just leave the details to be worked out later. Can we agree on the
basic idea? Do you mind if we move out here, at least for part of the year?"
Harm and Mac looked at each other again. "Of course not," Harm said, at the same time Mac said, "We’d love it!"
Three days later . . .
Harm walked into the house and noticed immediately the strange silence. His arrival home was usually greeted by
the happy cries of three excited children and a barking dog. Today there was no one in sight except Mac, whose
back was to him while she worked at the kitchen counter.
Warily he approached her, sensing the electrically charged atmosphere in the house. She didn’t turn around or
acknowledge his presence in any way.
"Hi," he said. "Where are the kids?"
"I sent them to their rooms," she said tersely.
"You sent two four-month old babies to their room?!" Harm asked.
"No. I didn’t *send* them. I *took* them."
"Why?"
"Because they were all being horribly hateful, and they needed a time out."
Harm’s first thought was to debate the fact that a four-month old could be "horribly hateful", but he thought
better of that. She was obviously upset about something. "Is it okay if I check on them?"
"Be my guest," she invited. She still hadn’t turned to look at him.
Harm stared at her for a moment, wondering what could have put her in this mood. When she continued to ignore him,
he left her.
He went first into the twins’ room. Mac had put them both into one crib, which she didn’t normally do. Grace was
awake, kicking her feet happily and staring up at the mobile above the crib, looking anything but "horribly
hateful". Emily was beside her, sleeping.
"Hi, pumpkin," Harm whispered.
Grace began to gurgle in response.
"Shhh," Harm said. "Don’t wake sister."
He picked Gracie up and carried her from the room. Molly’s room was empty, as was Matt’s. He found both of them
in Sabbrina’s room, along with Lucy. They were obviously having a tea party with Sabbrina’s dolls. "Hi, guys,"
he said.
"Daddy!" Sabbrina said, obviously very relieved to see him.
"Hi. What’s up?"
"Mommy’s really mad," Sabbrina told him.
"Do you know why?"
"Nope. But she made us all go to our rooms, and she told us we couldn’t come out until you came home. Can we come
out now, Daddy?" Sabbrina asked.
"Well, if mom said you could come out when I got home, then I guess it’s okay. Maybe you should let me talk to her
first. Can you play in here for a few more minutes?"
"I guess so. Molly! Stop pouring tea on Lucy!" Sabbrina complained.
"I’ll be back, guys," Harm promised.
Harm closed the door to the bedroom, concerned about Mac. How long had the kids been in their rooms? he wondered.
What had set her off?
He entered the kitchen slowly, Grace still in his arms. Mac still stood with her back to him. From what he
could see, she was slicing cucumbers. The fact that she had a weapon made him slightly nervous. "Do you want to
tell me what’s wrong?" he asked quietly.
"No."
Was she crying? Harm took another step closer. "Mac, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?"
Still she didn’t answer, but she did put the knife down. She now stood bracing herself on the counter, her
shoulders hunched protectively.
"You want to tell me what’s got you so upset you’d send five little kids to their rooms?" Harm prodded, feeling
a little safer now.
"They’ve been there all of twenty minutes, Harm!" she said, her voice cold and hard. "You think I’m abusing your
children now? Is that it?"
"No. Of course not," he started, but she wasn’t done yet.
"‘Cause if that’s what you think, maybe you should stop making me pregnant!"
That took a moment to sink in. So *that’s* what this was all about. He took another step closer. "Mac,
are you pregnant?"
Her head bowed in defeat. "Yes."
"And I take it you’re not exactly pleased by this news?"
"This wasn’t supposed to happen!" After leaving the hospital following the birth of the twins, Mac had had every
intention of calling her doctor and scheduling the surgery required so that she’d have no more children. But the
days had gone by, and she hadn’t made the call for one reason or another. And now this.
"I’m sorry," Harm said because he didn’t know what else to say. "Not because you’re pregnant, but because you’re
so unhappy about it. What can I do?"
"Nothing," she said. "There’s not a dam thing you can do."
Harm risked putting a hand on her shoulder. She felt extremely tense, but she didn’t pull away. "Look at me,
please."
Slowly, she turned to look at him. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she looked miserable.
"It’ll be okay," he promised her. "It will."
She stepped into his embrace, and he held her tightly with one arm. "This is all your fault," she muttered into
his shoulder.
"It *better* be my fault," he joked.
She pulled away from him, a little embarrassed by her reaction to this news. "Where’s Emmy?"
"She’s asleep. Hey! I’ve got an idea! Let’s got out to dinner . . . to celebrate!"
"Your idea of celebrating is taking five kids out to a restaurant?" Mac asked incredulously. "Are you a
masochist?"
"Work with me here," he said. "It’s a little late to get a babysitter."
"What the heck," she said with a shrug. "That’s a challenge I feel like I can handle."
Harm kissed her forehead tenderly. "By the way, for the record, I’ve never thought you abused our children.
Not even once."
Later that night . . .
Mac slipped into bed and waited for Harm to join her. He turned off the light and slid in beside her.
"I talked to the Admiral," he said into the darkness after they’d arranged themselves in their customary position
– Harm on his back, Mac’s head resting on his left shoulder, her arm across his belly and her left leg thrown
over his.
"That’s right!" Mac said, remembering the Admiral’s comment from several days ago. "He wanted to see you first
thing this morning. What did he want?"
"He wants to assign me permanently to the judiciary."
"Wow. What do *you* think about that? Was he giving you a choice?"
Harm sighed. "Well, I’d miss litigating. But I did enjoy sitting on the bench on those temporary assignments.
And I do think the Admiral was giving me a choice, although that may change in a few months when Admiral Morris
retires. I may have no choice then."
Mac propped herself up on one elbow and straightened her leg out. "So what do you think you’ll do?"
"It would mean a more reasonable schedule and fewer trips. I’d be home more. Think you could handle that?"
Mac smiled in the darkness. "Only one way to find out. So you’re going to take the assignment?"
"I think I will. Unless you can think of a reason I shouldn’t."
"I’m so proud of you!" Mac said, hugging him.
Harm kissed the top of her head. "Are you gonna be okay? About the baby, I mean."
Mac sighed. "I don’t have a lot of choice, I guess. I just thought I was finally going to see the end of diapers
some time soon. I’m sorry I went off the deep end. It was entirely my fault for not taking care of it. We’ve been
very luck that all of the kids have been so healthy, and I just feel like we’re pushing our luck. This is
*definitely* going to be it, Harm. I’m not doing this again."
He kissed her again. "Okay. Just do me a favor, will you? Make this one a boy. Matt and I are already outnumbered!"
"It’s a little late to be making requests, don’t you think?"
"How about another request?" He bent forward and whispered into her ear.
Mac laughed wickedly. "Now *that* I can do!"
Several months later . . .
"Baseball again?" Mac complained good-naturedly when she found Sturgis in her living room. Sunday afternoons
at Casa Rabb had become the "in" thing with the JAG judiciary, and Mac had become accustomed to having any
number of people in her home on a regular basis. She wasn’t really complaining. Since Harm had started inviting
his friends here, she and the kids saw a lot more of him. Sturgis had also been assigned to the judiciary a
couple of months ago, and he and Harm’s friendship had picked up where it had left off. Socializing with the
Roberts was a little complicated now since Harm had to avoid the appearance of impropriety with those appearing
before him in court. They still managed to get together a couple of times a month, critics be damned.
"Is Bobbi coming?" Mac asked.
"No. She had something come up on the Hill. She expected to be tied up all day."
"On Sunday?" Mac asked. "Even God takes a break on Sunday."
"God, maybe. The President, no," Sturgis joked.
"Well, you guys have fun. I’m taking the twins to the mall to have their pictures taken. I’ll be back soon,
I hope."
"Who else are you taking?" Harm asked.
"Well, Molly, of course." That almost went without saying. "Matt said he wanted to stay with you. Sabbrina hadn’t
made up her mind yet. Sabbrina!" she called. "I’m leaving! Are you going or staying?"
Seconds later, Sabbrina came into the room with her ever-present shadow, Lucy. They were both followed by Molly.
"I’m staying with Daddy," she said.
"Okay. Tell Matt to come out here, please. Come on, Molls."
"Where’s my kiss?" Harm asked.
Molly stopped long enough to hug and kiss her father. "Do you have one for Uncle Sturgis?" Harm asked.
"No no no," Molly said, shaking her head vehemently. "No kiss for him!"
"How about if you blow me one?" Sturgis suggested.
Molly nodded. "Okay." She kissed the palm of her hand, then blew forcefully on it in Sturgis’ direction.
Sturgis flinched. "Ow!" he teased. "Not so hard!"
Molly giggled and jumped down from Harm’s lap.
"Do you need help with the stroller?" Harm asked.
"No. It’s already in the van. So are the twins," Mac said. "Come on, Moll! Grace and Emily are waiting! Don’t
forget you have two kids," she reminded Harm.
"Have fun!" Harm called as the door closed.
"You are one lucky man, Harm," Sturgis said.
"You know it, buddy," Harm agreed.
Sabbrina came back into the room, towing a resisting Matt by the hand. "Daddy! He’s touching my stuff again!" she
complained.
"Hey, Short Man," Harm said, patting the couch beside him. "Come watch the game with Uncle Sturgis and me. You
wanna watch, too, Princess?" he asked as Matt threw himself onto the couch.
"No, thanks. I’ll be in my room. Playing with my stuff. By myself." Sabbrina didn’t get a lot of alone time
any more, and she savored it when she got it.
"Well, that wasn’t so bad!" Mac deceived herself as she pushed the double stroller back toward the van with one
hand, holding Molly on her hip with the other. The twins had been anything but cooperative about having their
picture taken, and it had taken many attempts to get an acceptable shot of both of them together, and several
more tries to get them both individually. Molly had clamored, "Me pitcher too" until Mac relented and let her
get into one of the photos. She’d brought Molly here last week to have her pictures done, but Molly chose not
to remember that or believe that it was any reason not to get in on the action now. Forty-three minutes after
they’d walked into the photo studio, they walked out again. Frazzled, Mac had stopped to get ice cream for the
kids. She cleaned them up and now they were headed home.
She parked the stroller next to the van and locked the wheels. She unlocked the van and handed Molly in with
instructions to get into her car seat. She then lifted out Grace and buckled her in, followed by Emily. Molly
had obligingly climbed up into her seat, and Mac buckled her in as well. She folded up the stroller and slid the
van door closed. Her mind on supper, she opened the back of the van, stowed the stroller in its customary place,
and slammed the door down. Her keys in hand, she approached the drivers door. She had just put her hand on the
handle when she heard the voice.
"Give me the keys," it said, low and menacing.
Mac turned slowly toward the voice. A young man of perhaps twenty years, dirty blonde hair and dirtier clothing,
stood four feet away from her, a switchblade open in his hand. His eyes were glassy and unseeing.
Mac had not removed her hand from the handle, and she clutched it tightly now to keep her fear reigned in. Her
heart pounding in her chest, she said, "Just let me get the kids out," attempting to keep her voice low and
non-threatening.
The man took another step closer and jabbed at the space between them with the knife. "Give me the f****in’ keys
now, or I’ll slit your throat!" He looked around him wildly, making sure there was still no one else around.
"The kids . . ." Mac tried again. She had no intention of letting this man drive away with her children. She’d fight
him if she had to. Had he not been stoned on whatever he’d obviously been taking, Mac had no doubt she could take
him. But if she ended up wounded, and he got her keys . . .
"The keys!" he roared. He took another step toward her, and Mac reacted without thinking. In one motion, she
threw the keys as far as she could, pulled the door open, jumped into the van, and closed the door, locking all
of the doors behind her.
Enraged now, the man began pounding on the driver’s window with the jacknife and screaming obscenities. Mac
pressed on the horn and left her hand there, trying to draw attention and hopefully assistance.
Moments later, the banging on the window stopped. Mac only now realized that she’d closed her eyes, and she opened
them now to see the would-be carjacker running away, being pursued by two young men. An older man appeared at her
window. "Are you all right?" he asked her through the glass.
"I’m fine," she said, feeling a little dazed. Had she just almost been carjacked, or had she imagined that
whole scene? It seemed more than a little surreal.
She couldn’t put the window down without the key, so she opened the door. "My keys . . ."
"My boys are looking for them," the man told her. "And my wife has called the police. Are you sure you’re
all right?"
"Yes, I’m she," she assured him. "Just a little shaken."
The two young men who’d pursued the carjacker came running back. "He got away!" one of them said breathlessly.
"Ran right across the highway! Nearly caused a pileup!"
Moments later, two teenaged boys joined them. "We looked everywhere," one of them said. "There’s a drain over
them. They may have gone down."
"Is there someone you can call?" the older man asked.
"Yes, my husband. I have a cell phone." Mac felt like she was moments away from losing control. Molly picked
this moment to ask, "Bad man gone, mommy?"
Yes! Focus on the children! "Yes, honey, the bad man’s gone. The nice people chased him away. He’s not going
to hurt us."
A woman now joined the growing group outside her van. "The police are on their way," she announced.
"Thank you all," Mac said. "I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along."
"Why don’t you make that call to your husband," the older man suggested. He guessed she was on the verge of hysteria
and thought talking with her husband might help.
Mac didn’t tell Harm why she needed him to bring her other set of keys or why he should leave Bree and Matt with
Sturgis. He joked about her losing her keys, and she tersely told him to get his butt to the mall. She described
the location of her parking spot and hung up.
While they waited, Mac sang with Molly and the twins. She kept the delayed panic she’d felt at bay by making sure
the kids felt safe. When the police came, she calmly described the incident and provided as many details as she
could remember about the man. She had just finished giving her statement when Harm arrived.
Harm saw the police car from a distance, but he didn’t think much of it until he pulled up behind the cruiser,
which was parked behind Mac’s van. The ‘vette had hardly come to a stop before he jumped out. He was immediately
stopped by a uniformed officer.
"Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to stop right there," the officer said, holding up both hands.
"That’s my wife!" Harm said, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Mac and the kids. "And my family! What’s
going on?!"
"It’s okay," he heard Mac say. "He’s my husband."
With an apologetic look, the officer stepped aside and let Harm pass. Harm covered the remaining ground in three
quick strides.
A second officer stood beside Mac next to the open van door. "What’s going on?" Harm asked.. He quickly scanned
the inside of the van and was relieved to see all three children right where they belonged. Molly smiled and
waved and said, "Daddy." Everyone appeared to be all right. He didn’t see any damage to the van. But if she’d
been involved in a fender bender, why would she need the other keys? These thoughts sped through his brain as
he turned to look at Mac.
Harm waved back at Molly as Mac said, "It’s okay, Harm."
"Your wife was almost carjacked, sir," the officer said.
"Carjacked?" Harm repeated. "Are you all right?"
"I’m fine," she assured him. "We’re all fine."
"Your wife was pretty brave, sir," the officer said. "When the perp tried to get your wife’s keys, she tossed ‘em,
jumped in the van, and laid on the horn. Bystanders came to her aid, and the kid ran off."
"He tried to steal a mini-van?" Harm asked incredulously.
"He probably just waited for a good target – a single woman or a woman with children puts up less of a fight,"
the officer said. "He obviously misjudged this one. ‘Course, being stoned out of your gourd will do that to you."
"Did . . . did he have a weapon?" Harm asked.
Mac nodded. "Yeah. A knife."
Harm pulled Mac into his embrace as the awareness that she’d been accosted by a stoned, knife-toting individual
sunk in. "Are you sure you’re all right?"
"I’m fine," she said into his shoulder.
"Are we done here?" Harm asked the officer. "I’d like to get them home."
"Yes. I have everything I need. I’d like you to come in tomorrow and look at some mug shots. Someone might jump
out at you. Figuratively speaking, of course," he said, smiling at his little joke.
"All right," Mac agreed.
"Look, I’m gonna leave the ‘vette here and drive you home," Harm said.
"That’s not necessary, Harm," Mac protested, but only because she thought she should. In reality, she wasn’t sure
she could drive across the parking lot, let alone all the way home.
"Don’t argue with me," he insisted. "I’m driving you home. Just let me go park the ‘vette."
"You don’t want to leave a car like that out here for long," the officer who had initially stopped Harm said.
Harm turned to face him.
"May I make a suggestion?" the officer asked. When Harm nodded, the officer continued. "You drive your family
home. I’ll follow in your car. My partner can follow us and pick me up."
Harm recognized this for the ploy it was – the guy clearly just wanted to drive the ‘vette. If he’d pulled in here
with a Ford Escort or a Honda Civic, he doubted the officer would be so solicitous. He briefly entertained the
idea of saying "thanks, but no thanks", then though better of it. It would certainly be more convenient if Sturgis
didn’t have to bring him back out here to get the car. "Are you sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble?"
"Not at all," the officer said, smiling giddily. "Just trying to be of service."
Harm tossed him the keys, not buying that line for a moment.