1625 hours
West Cape May Police Department

Washington Street

Cape May, NJ

Tired, and rather hungry, Harm and Mac entered the West Cape May Police HQ. It was small, and carried with it the typical small-town feel one might expect from a local police department. Harm counted a half-dozen police officers, not counting the Sergeant they were there to meet. The assistant at the front desk smiled as Harm approached the counter.

"Can I help you?" she said, flashing a pearly-white smile. Her long, wavy light brown hair fell over her shoulders casually as she smoothed her low-cut white sweater over a rather form fitting turquoise camisole. Mac mentally rolled her eyes.

"Hello, I'm Commander Harmon Rabb, and this is Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, and we're here to meet with Sergeant Phillips," Harm said to the young woman.

"Hi Commander, I'm Rebecca Phillips. I'm the Sergeant's niece." She gave him a light, flirtatious smile. "But you can call me Becky." As she said it, she touched Harm's arm coyly, doing her best to seduce him.

"Nice to meet you, Becky," Harm said, innocently giving her his trademark Flyboy Smile.

Mac then stepped up counter and gave Becky a quick smile. "Hi Miss Phillips," Mac said, her voice straight to the point with a slight edge to it. "We need to speak with your uncle as soon as possible. Would you please tell him we're here?" Her eyes stared straight into Becky's, signaling that whatever hopes she had for Harm were to be destroyed at once. Becky cocked her head slightly and forced a smile at Mac.

"Just a minute," she snipped, withdrawing her hand from Harm's arm, and turning on heel toward the door behind the desk.

As she left, Harm glanced over at Mac, his eyes wide; he had the hint of an amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You OK Mac?"

Mac smiled at him. "I'm fine. How about you? Need a cold shower when we get to our rooms?"

"Mac, she's far too young-"

"Oh, so if she was older, you might have considered it."

"No, that's not what I-"

"Good evening, Commander, Colonel," said Sergeant Marc Phillips as he entered through the doorway, followed by Becky, who flashed another smile at Harm. As the Sergeant shook Harm's hand, Mac's eyes caught Becky's, and Becky's eyes narrowed at her. Mentally noting but also ignoring his niece's immature behavior, Mac shook Sergeant Phillips' hand.

"Good evening, Sergeant," said Harm. "Is there somewhere we could go to review the facts of the case?" Harm looked over at Becky, who was still smiling at him.

"Aww, nah, Becky's fine. She's been around investigations before." Sgt. Phillips glanced over at Mac, who was trying to hide her disapproval. "But if you'd like, we can go elsewhere ..."

"No we'll be fine here, Sergeant," Harm said quickly, not wanting to damage their working relationship with the Sergeant before it even began. He knew that small town police could be tougher to work with if they felt unappreciated or like they were being turned away from their own case.

Mac, though she knew Harm might fear for keeping the Sergeant's working trust, couldn't help but wonder if Harm had agreed to stay so that he could see the Sergeant's niece. She better keep her hands off his- Mac's train of thought was cut short as the Sergeant addressed her.

"Would you like some coffee, Colonel, Commander?"

"Please," Harm replied.

"Thank you, that would be great," said Mac gratefully.

"Our pleasure." Sgt. Phillips turned to his niece. "Becky, would you get us three cups, please? Thanks sweetie."

Becky smiled at her uncle and Harm, but when she looked at Mac, her smile faded. As she left, Harm glanced over at Mac cautiously, but saw that Mac's attention was focused on Sgt. Phillips. And, upon further inspection of Sgt. Phillips, Harm noted that the Sergeant's attention was most definitely fixed on Mac. He better keep his eyes off her- Harm's thoughts, this time, were cut short by Sgt. Phillips.

"So, what do you folks need to know?" Sgt. Phillips asked.

"Everything you do," Harm said, a little more aggressive than needed. Mac caught his tone, and glanced over at him. Harm laughed slightly. "We just wanted to speak with you to see what you've gathered so far."

"Well," Sgt. Phillips said, "our boys estimate that the Commander was dead for about a day or two before Ricky found him. Not much else to tell, really. We are thinking the cause of death is suffocation." Sgt. Phillips' eyes moved to Mac. "But we shipped him off to the lab this morning. So we make sure our bases are covered." He smiled at Mac and Mac smiled back, realizing he was flirting with her. Two can play this game, Harm, she thought.

"Sergeant Phillips," Mac said in a softer tone than before, "have any witnesses come forward?"

"Nope," the Sergeant replied. "The only person involved was Ricky. He was combing the beach when he found the bag." Sgt. Phillips leaned in closer to Mac. "You can go down to the scene, if you'd like. The beach is rather nice in the off-season. A little cold, but nothing a warm jacket or-"

"Thank you," Harm said, louder than necessary, "we'll be sure to visit the crime scene, Sergeant."

Becky reappeared with three mugs on a tray in hand. She placed the Sergeant's mug in front of him first, then leaned over the desk and placed Harm's gently down in front of him, smiling as she did. Her low cut sweater revealed slightly more than Harm cared to see, and he nodded to signal a thank-you, turning his head away. Frustrated, Becky grabbed Mac's mug and put it down carelessly on the desk in front of her. Mac's eyebrows rose as Becky pushed the creamers and sugars toward her, and walked away. Harm glanced up at Becky before she left, and Becky winked at him. This time, Mac's eyes rolled for real, and Harm's eyebrows lifted as he focused back on Sergeant Phillips.

"Sergeant," Harm said, disliking the way he looked at Mac so intensely, "the Coast Guard base isn't too far from here, correct?"

"That's right, it's on Delaware Avenue," Sgt. Phillips replied, still looking at Mac, who sipped her coffee, wishing she could plunge her entire self into the cup to hide. "About one and a half miles from the crime scene."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Harm said, standing. Mac followed suit reluctantly. "I think the Colonel and I will go take a look at the scene before it gets dark."

Sgt. Phillips stood and extended his hand to Harm. "You're welcome, Commander," he said, shaking Harm's hand. He then extended his hand to Mac, and gripped hers. "Let me know if I can do anything for you." Mac understood the Sergeant's implied meaning, and smiled it off, hoping to get out of the police station soon. Harm, sensing her distress, put his arm around Mac, and they turned to leave. He steered Mac ahead him, his hand placed on the small of her back as he led her out. This time, Mac smiled because she liked this side of Harm, and she hoped she could see more of it.

Once outside, Harm shook his head as they walked to the car. "I think the Sergeant likes you."

"Well, I think his niece really likes you," Mac retorted.

"Yeah, well, at least she's around my age," Harm teased.

"If you like robbing the cradle," Mac replied.

"At least I'm not buttering up to a man almost twice my age."

"I wasn't buttering up to him!" Mac said, stopping in front of the car. Harm stopped with her. Both realized how close in proximity they were to one another, but neither moved. "He was the one with the focus problems."

"I saw how you smiled at him."

"I was being polite!"

"You were leading him on!"

"I was not!"

"Maybe you're just irresistible then." The words came out of Harm's mouth before he had a chance to think. Damn it ... damn it ... don't catch that, Mac.

"Am I?" Mac said softly, her eyes searching his.

Harm smiled and looked down to his shoes. Kicking a stone away, he replied, "You know you are."

"But not to you," Mac said, her tone slightly saddened.

"It's not easy for me either, Mac," Harm said, looking into her eyes.

"But you manage," Mac replied rather coolly.

"I wish I didn't." Harm's voice was barely above a whisper. Their eyes searched each others for a brief moment, until they were interrupted by Harm's cell phone. Sighing, Harm answered. "Rabb."

"Commander, it's the Admiral. What have you got so far?"

"Hello sir. We haven't obtained much information. Local police a little more lax than we anticipated. We're about to head over to the place where the body was found to see if we can dig up anything before dark. In the morning, the Colonel and I will visit the Coast Guard Station and go from there."

"Very good, Commander. Keep me informed."

"Aye aye, sir."

Harm closed his phone shut, and sighed. "Let's go, before it gets dark. Then we'll head over to the B&B to check in."

"Sounds good," Mac replied, opening the passenger door of their car and sitting inside. Harm climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine and drove them both to Beach Avenue.

1700 hours
Beach Avenue
Eastern Cape May Shore

"Well, looks like we'll only have a small window of daylight left to see what we can find," Mac said as she exited Harm's SUV, scanning the boardwalk and beach in front of her. The cool spring wind whipped against her, and Mac removed her cover and stowed it in the car. The winds were too strong to risk losing it.

Harm watched as the rich rays of the setting sun gleamed off of Mac's shiny brown hair, noting the radiant hues of red and chestnut that were visible when she removed her cover. To him, she looked beautiful as the ocean breezes tossed her hair playfully around her face.

Mac turned to Harm and squinted as the sun shone in her eyes. She noticed how he was staring at her, the same way he did before they left when he was in her office. Though it was uncomfortable to see how many unspoken things were in his gaze, she liked the fact that he looked at her that way; it was as if he were separating her from all other women in the world, and holding her above them. She felt special. Still, she wished he would just follow his instincts and say what he struggled so much to, so that everything would be out on the table. It would be easier to deal with than to let her mind play games with her.

Realizing he was staring, Harm turned his gaze from Mac toward the beach. "In his statement," Harm said, "Rick Farland said he found the body by the jetties, in between Perry Street and Ocean Street."

"So we should start there, then."

"Yeah ..." Harm frowned. "Although, I don't know how much we'll find, since the ocean most likely took any evidence further out to sea."

"I guess we'll just have to see what we come up with." Mac began taking off her pumps. "Harm, could you pop the trunk? I need to change to my boots."

Harm pressed the trunk lift button on his key fob and Mac headed to the back of the car, rummaging through her bag for her boots. When she had changed, she closed the trunk and Harm locked it, pocketing his keys. He smiled at her ensemble of military-issue pencil skirt and combat boots.

"I hear skirts and combat boots are the thing in Europe," he commented teasingly. Mac rolled her eyes, trying to hide a smile.

"You're just surprised I can pull it off like I do!" she said, turning away and heading toward the shore.

You could pull off a potato sack, MacKenzie, he thought with a grin as he watched her walk away from behind.

On the sand, they both trekked quietly toward the specified jetties. After a few moments of walking, Mac stopped suddenly, peering at something on the ground. "Oh, wow. Look!"

Harm stopped when he heard the excitement in Mac's voice as she stooped to retrieve something on the sand. Brushing it carefully off, she lifted it up for Harm to see with a smile. A slightly chipped sand dollar rested in her palm, and Harm's eyebrow lifted. "I thought you had something," he said with a smile.

"I do! This will look great in my collection," Mac said proudly.

"Collection?" Harm was surprised. "I didn't know you collected seashells, Mac."

"I guess ever since I was younger, I've been fascinated with finding treasures in nature. Uncle Matt taught me about fossils, so I guess shells just came naturally." Mac broke her gaze from the sand dollar and looked up at Harm. "Living in San Diego, I'm surprised you didn't collect them, too," she commented.

"I guess I never stopped long enough to see them," Harm said, reminiscing about his childhood.

After a while of combing the area where the body was found with no luck finding anything, Harm and Mac both found themselves wandering down the shoreline east toward Howard Street until they came to another pile of jetties. They were separate and silent in their pursuit for evidence, each exploring their own segment of the shore. Harm stayed along the coast line, hoping to catch something that hadn't been swept out to sea. "Mac, I don't think we'll find anythi-" He stopped when he didn't see her, and panicked slightly. "Mac?"

"Up here!"

Harm looked toward the jetties and saw Mac, nimbly making her way further down the large, black rocks toward the ocean. "Mac!" Harm said, with obvious worry in his voice. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing what I can see!" Mac called back loudly against the noise of the wind and waves.

"Well, be careful! I'm coming up!"

Harm had to admit that he felt nervous scaling the jetties, considering he hadn't had much experience before. Mac looked at home as she crossed from one rock to the next, even with the restriction of her skirt, while it took Harm a considerable amount of time longer to reach the same point. When he caught up with Mac, he was again surprised as he saw her squatting down and peering in between the large rocks. "See anything?" Harm asked, trying to see what she did.

"I don't know ..." Mac leaned further down to get a closer look. Harm stepped closer to her, and accidentally bumped into her. Mac lost her balance, and began to fall forward, but Harm panicked and grabbed her around her waist from behind, catching her. He pressed his body close to hers, trying to stabilize them both as he pulled her upward. Once they were both upright, Mac turned to Harm; he saw the fear she must have felt still slightly present on her face. Harm continued to hold her tightly in his arms, though the immediate danger had passed. Their eyes scanned each other's in silence; Mac could feel Harm's heavy breath on her face, and judging from his quickened breathing, she noted that his heart rate must have jumped when she slipped. Or, it could have jumped for another reason ...

"What did you see down there?" Harm said, slightly relaxing his grip around Mac. Coming back to reality, Mac frowned.

"I thought I saw a knobbed whelk, but I wasn't sure, so I-"

"A knobbed what?" Harm asked in surprised confusion.

"A knobbed whelk ..." Mac saw he still didn't understand. "A conch shell. But it was only a fragment-"

"You almost fell in between two jetties for a shell?" Harm sighed. "Mac ..."

"No, then I saw something else. Something blue and gold. Like shoulder boards."

Harm released Mac, and then peered into the same opening between the jetties that Mac had been looking at. After a moment of searching, Harm tried to reach down to retrieve an object. Unable to reach it, Harm laid flat on his stomach in one swift move, pushing himself closer to the edge of the jetty. Mac watched him, waiting to hold on to him if he slipped. A moment later, Harm lifted up a pile of sand and pulled himself up. He carefully brushed off the object, uncovering a shoulder board from a military uniform.

"How do you think it got there?" Mac asked, looking at the bar.

"I don't know," Harm replied. "But our victim wasn't just dumped here, Mac. He died here."

"What makes you say that?"

Harm showed her the board. "It's a Lieutenant board. Our victim was a Commander."

1810 hours
The Fairwinds B&B
Ocean Street

After a while longer of searching with no other results, Harm and Mac headed to their room to unpack and rest for the night. Shouldering their bags, they entered the Fairwinds Bed & Breakfast through its antique green door. Once inside the three-story gingerbread style Victorian home, they were greeted by a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair, glasses, and an obvious appreciation for animal print clothing. Her smile was warm and her voice was comforting. "Good evening, and welcome to The Fairwinds. Checking in?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Harm replied. "Our reservations are under Rabb, Romeo-Alpha-Bravo-Bravo."

The innkeeper smiled. "First time here to Cape May?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Harm said with a smile.

"Please, call me Marie," the innkeeper insisted, and Harm nodded.

"Nice to meet you. This is Colonel Sarah Mackenzie."

Mac stepped forward. "Nice to meet you, Marie."

"Likewise!" Marie said in a pleasant, happy tone. She slipped on her leopard-print reading glasses and began thumbing through her schedule book, stopping when she found their reservation. "OK, you will be staying in the Greenwich room. And I must say, this is our most photogenic room. All of the angles give it such character. One of our largest bathrooms, too, with a whirlpool tub and a mini fridge ..."

Mac smiled. "Um, which room will I be in, Ma'am?"

Marie took off her reading glasses and looked at Mac with a puzzled expression. "The Greenwich, dear," she said.

"And my room, Ma'am?" Harm asked hesitantly.

Marie looked up at Harm. She nodded while she replied, "The Greenwich."

Mac's lips parted, and Harm's eyes grew large. "There must be a mistake, Marie. We, uh, should have two rooms." Harm's voice was panicked.

Marie shook her head. "I have two people booked for the Greenwich under R-A-B-B." She paused, then gave an apologetic look. "I suppose you're not here together, then."

"Well, we are ..." Mac replied softly.

"We are, we're working together," Harm explained.

"Ahh. Well, the Greenwich has a decent sized couch and a queen-sized bed." Marie frowned. "I'm sorry, but everything else is booked up because of the Spring Festival. In fact, most everyone around here is booked up. We're expecting the biggest crowd yet!"

Harm flashed her a smile. "It's OK, Marie. We'll be fine."

Marie smiled back. "Great! If you will just follow me, I'll show you to your room."

While the three climbed two levels of stairs, both Harm and Mac mentally noted the Victorian themed decorations, furniture and accessories that the Fairwinds boasted of. Making a mental note that Sturgis was accurate in his description, Harm wondered what the room would be like and almost feared the results. Marie talked to them both about the history of the building and somewhat about the restoration process before they reached a door marked "Greenwich" on a gold plaque off the landing. "Here we are." Marie unlocked the room, and opened the door. As Marie flicked on the lights, Mac smiled. The cheery floral wallpaper, soft quilted bedspread, and charming period furniture reminded her of her own home. Harm, on the other hand, felt slightly out of place as he stepped inside the room, noting all of the low-stooping angles from the roof above them. Marie saw Harm's dilemma, and frowned. "I'm sorry, Mister Rabb, unfortunately we didn't know you were so blessed with height when we placed you in here," she apologized.

Harm shook his head. "It's fine, Marie. Thank you for help."

Marie smiled. "My pleasure. Just so you both know, breakfast is between eight o'clock and ten o'clock in the dining room downstairs. You're welcome to use the bicycles we have in the shed for our guests and if you need anything, just let us know and we'll get it for you. There are robes in the closet, if you need them. Oh, and we serve tea every afternoon at three."

"Thank you," both Mac and Harm said as Marie waved and left, clicking the Greenwich's door shut behind her. Dropping her bag in a open space, Mac sighed. "I guess this is what Harriet wanted to tell us." Harm nodded remorsefully. "I'll take the couch," Mac added, gesturing to the small Victorian-style couch that looked like hardly enough room for sitting, let alone sleeping.

"Mac, I won't let you sleep on the couch. You take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch," Harm insisted.

Mac put her hands on her hips. "Sailor, you're six-foot-four. How do you figure you'll even fit on the couch?"

Harm laughed softly. "I'll manage."

"I'll take the couch," Mac repeated, not at all convinced.

"Mac ..." Harm realized they both were unable to sleep on the couch, and inhaled for courage before finishing his sentence. "Maybe I'll take the floor." He chickened out asking her to share the bed with him.

"That's not what you wanted to say, is it?" Mac said perceptively, stepping closer to him. "We can both share the bed, you know. I mean, there is enough room for both of us on there." Mac and Harm both looked to the bed and then back at each other. Harm couldn't help himself as he stared at Mac, his mind wandering to imagine what she would look like in pajamas, laying next to him, sleeping peacefully. Or maybe without any pajamas ...

"Are you sure, Mac?" Harm asked, taking a step closer to her. He could feel her warm, soft breath on his skin, and it sent chills up his spine.

"I'm sure," Mac replied softly, imagining what it would be like to feel the heat of his body next to her all night, his arms around her, his hands-

Harm's cell phone ringer cut the silence of their fantasizing, much to both their dismay. Frowning, he answered with a sigh, "Rabb."

"Sir, it's Bud. Sir, Harriet wanted to apologize-"

"It's fine, Lieutenant. Tell Harriet everything is OK."

"Sir, she felt really bad about not being able to warn you about the room, and she was too embarrassed to call you tonight."

"It's fine, Bud. The Colonel and I are working it out right now." Harm stared deeply into Mac's eyes. She understood the subtext of his reply, and her heart jumped slightly, wondering if she was right about it.

"Are you sure, Sir? Because we could-"

"Bud," Harm said, "we're fine. Hang up and tell your wife everything is just fine, then spend time with her and your son. That's an order."

"Yes, Sir. Goodbye, Sir."

"Bye, Bud."

Harm closed his cell phone shut, and sighed. "Remind me to put the ringer on silent ..." Mac smiled, and then went for her bag.

"I heard something about a whirlpool tub," Mac said, retrieving some clothes and a toiletry bag. "Can't let that go to waste."

"Didn't figure you would, Mac," Harm commented with a grin. "Hey, I'm starved. I'm going to see what kind of food is in the area. I'll bring it back here, so we can discuss theories and our game plan for tomorrow. Want anything in particular?"

"As long as it's not meatless meatloaf!" Mac teased.

"Hey, that's a Rabb specialty," Harm defended. "How about pizza?"

"Perfect."

"Alright, I'm taking the key. I'll be back."

"I'll be here."

I know, Harm thought, pleased.

A little while later, with a large half broccoli, half meat-lovers pizza in hand, Harm returned to their room, clicking the Greenwich's lock shut. Harm glanced toward the bathroom; he mentally noted the door was slightly ajar. He could smell the lingering scent of lavender bath salts and heard gentle splashes from the whirlpool function of the tub. He could have also sworn he heard a low, deep sigh - the kind that only came from someone when they were truly enjoying something as relaxing as a bubble bath could be. Not wanting to disturb Mac's quiet moment, Harm carefully placed the pizza on the bureau and kicked off his shoes. He unbuttoned his khaki uniform shirt and tossed it aside, leaving his standard white tank and dog tags on. He sat up on the bed, propping a pillow in between the scrolled headboard and his back, and began peering over the case file.

When what seemed like forever, which was only a few minutes, had passed, Harm peered toward the cracked bathroom door. A mixture of worry, curiosity and hunger filled him, realizing that Mac hadn't responded to the obvious scent of pizza in the next room. Meat lover's, no less. Plus, she was a Marine - she should have inquired about his return. She would have. He got up slowly, stepping gingerly toward the bathroom. "Mac?" he called, in barely over a whisper. No response. "Mac, there's pizza out here." Nothing. He rapped on the door gently, and as he knocked, the door pushed gently open. "Man on deck!" he said hurriedly, panicking that he might find a indecent Marine Colonel as the door revealed the bathroom. Well, that might not be so bad ...

He smiled when he saw her in there, buried in a mass of foamy white bubbles up to her collar bone, her hair clipped carelessly behind her. She was in a decently sound sleep, and had clearly been so since probably right after he left for food, judging by the diminishing bubbles around her slim legs. His eyes widened. Her legs ... he could see them in the water, bubbles dancing scantily around her -

Eyes wide, he turned his gaze toward her sleeping face. He had to wake her up, but didn't want to startle her. Yet, with the bubbles quickly evaporating, he knew she'd most likely wring his neck if he didn't do it soon and he was still in the bathroom. Inside, he wanted to just keep staring in the direction of the foam in question, but he fought the urge and reached out slowly toward her exposed shoulder, carefully brushing his fingers -

"AHHH!"

Mac's eyes flew open, gasping at Harm's almost non-existent touch. Instantly, she grabbed his hand, and he yelped. "Oww!" he whined as she bent his fingers backward in automatic self defense. Mac focused on Harm's face and then gasped as she realized it was him. "I'm sorry!" she pleaded, feeling bad she had hurt him.

Harm withdrew his hand, rubbing it with the other. "Jeez, Ninja Girl, you didn't need the Kungfu grip," he sulked.

"I said I was-" Mac's eyes left Harm's and trailed down to her own body in the water, which was barely clad in bubbles. Her startled jump from Harm's touch had caused a particular group of bubbles to shift, ones that were covering-

"OUT!" She yelled, panicking at her situation. Harm's long legs barely got underneath him as he scrambled for the door.

"I'm going! I'm going!"

Once on the other side, Harm closed the door, sighing. His eyes fell toward the pizza on the bureau, most likely cold now. Figures, he thought. Cold food, cold relationship ... His mind wandered back to Mac's scantily covered body in the bathtub. Cold shower ...

A moment later, Mac emerged, appearing calmer than before and also more awake. She was clad in a pair of gray shorts and an over-sized USMC t-shirt. Her hair was still clipped; Harm smelled the faint scent of lavender still lingering on her. Realizing he was staring at her, he nodded his head toward the pizza. "I got you meat lover's," he bribed, as a peace offering.

Mac's soft smile made Harm more at ease. "Thanks. I'm sorry about before. I guess I was more tired than I realized."

Harm's grin made Mac's heart melt a little. "It's OK. I knew something was wrong when you didn't come running for the food."

Mac's smile widened. She noted the case file on the bed. "Find anything?" she asked, peering over her shoulder as she took a slice of pizza from the box. She walked back over to the bed and climbed up on it, taking a small, yet eager bite of the pizza. Harm shook his head, crossing toward the pizza box. "Nothing that mentions a Lieutenant being mixed up with our deceased Commander in any way."

"Nothing in the crew interviews?"

"Nothing conclusive. Scuttlebutt, minor altercations ... nothing that would make someone want to kill someone else."

"With who?"

"A couple officers. Still, nothing to warrant killing someone."

"How do you know?"

Harm chewed on his pizza and shrugged. "You wouldn't kill a man, especially a senior officer, over something minor, Mac."

Mac focused on the case file. "What if it was just the straw that broke the camel's back?"

Harm paused. "It's a stretch."

"Come on, Harm, like you've never been pushed to your limit by things building up?"

Harm stared into Mac's eyes. She sensed he was fighting a truthful answer to that question, and knew he succeeded when he replied with, "I know when to let go."

Her lips pursed forward slightly, understanding what he meant by his response. She knew he was referring to their conversation in the parking lot. She mentally sighed. He is misunderstanding this, but how can I tell him otherwise when he can't know right now?

Mac broke her eye contact with Harm and decided to go into full business mode. She skimmed through the case file, taking note of the transcriptions from the interviews conducted. "We should probably re-interview these crew members."

Harm frowned. "Mac, it'll be over 48 hours after the fact. You know that stories can start to change after that length of time."

She nodded. "I know. I'm hoping they will."

Harm raised a brow at her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Maybe it'll flesh out the truth for us."

Harm chose not to respond. He was too tired to be as optimistic as Mac was about their prospects of finding any clues for their investigation and he was certainly disgruntled over the tension that lingered in the air between them, thick enough to be suffocating. He shoved the last bite of his pizza in his mouth, chewed and swallowed quickly, heading toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna grab a shower and then hit the racks."

Seeing he was mentally bothered, Mac nodded slowly, not verbally responding. She didn't want to cause him any more damage by opening her mouth. She had hurt him enough for one night. She dropped her empty plate on the night table beside her and then pulled the quilt over her body. Snuggling down into the pillow, she let her eyes droop into a frustrated state of sleep as she listened to the rhythmic hum of Harm's shower.

Inside the shower, Harm ran his hands over his face, combing back his hair with a sigh. For a brief moment, he felt like he was the dead Commander of their investigation.