THIRTY-NINE
Kelly paced frantically around Mac’s office like she always did when nervous or agitated. Mac sat at his desk, unruffled, and watched her pace, his head swiveling back and forth as if he were at a tennis match. The expression on his face might be construed as a smirk by some. But when dealing with his niece, it would never be anything more than a smile.
“There’s trouble,” Kelly said. “Big trouble.” She waved her arms in the air.
“Right here in River City?” Mac asked.
Her face flushed red. “What have we got to defend this with?” She looked to him for a response, and then answered her own question. “Nothing! That’s what we’ve got. We’ve got absolutely nothing to defend this guy with.”
“Why don’t you sit down? You know who you look like storming around over there, ranting and
