“You’d be the natural suspect.” Laurel began to climb, her light streaking about the clearing.
“Wait, will you! I’ll put on the flood.” Macgowan disappeared. A moment later the glade was bright as a studio set. “That’s why I’m nervous,” he grinned, reappearing. His long arm yanked her to the platform. “Boy, is this cosy. Come on in.”
“Turn off the flood, Mac. I’d like some privacy.”
“Sure!” He was back in a moment, lifting her off her feet. She let him carry her into his tree house and deposit her on the roll away bed, which was made up for the night. “Wait till I turn the radio off.” When he straightened up his head barely missed the ceiling. “ And the light.-
“Leave the light.”
“Okay, okay. Aren’t you cold, baby?”
“That’s the only thing you haven’t provided for, Mac. The California nights.”
“Didn’t you know I carry my own central heating? Shove over.”
“Sit down, Mac.”
“Huh?”