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"The Road Traffic Act basically states that if an accident happens as a result of a motor vehicle on the road, and the officer believes that this person was in charge of the vehicle when the accident occurred, then the officer has legal authorization to administer a preliminary breath test." Macdara waited for her to respond.

"There was an accident?" the delivery lad asked when silence stretched. He sounded worried.

"See?" Siobhán said. "That's what I said."

"I didn't write these questions," Macdara said. "You asked for my help." 

"You took the test, didn't you?" Siobhán asked. She was getting her back up, but she couldn't help it.

"I wouldn't be a detective sergeant if I hadn't taken the tests." He paused. "And you won't be either."

He did not just say that. In front of this delivery-baby no less. Siobhán eyed the crate again. It was big enough to stuff her husband into—maybe she could convince the lad to haul him away. "You could have at least given headquarters feedback on how idiotic these questions are."

"You're blaming me for taking the test? I don't have to help you study, you know. I do have other things I could be doing."

"Like what?" Macdara was off for the week following their holiday and he was still trying to be a "man of leisure."

"Don't you worry about it."

"Consider yourself officially dismissed." They reached the tent. It was situated across from Eoin's farm-to-table restaurant, a short stroll away. Once the garden was unveiled, restaurant guests could walk through the installment either before or after their meal, and it would remain on the property throughout the summer for folks to enjoy. It was ingenious of Eoin to think about doing this, even if it had gotten him in some hot water with the other contestants. Now that they were near the tent, Siobhán was surprised that all was quiet. "Hello?" she called out. "Cassidy Ryan? There's a large delivery here. Some kind of statue?"

There was no reply. "She must be on break," Siobhán said. "Would you like me to sign for it?"

The lad glanced at his paperwork. "It clearly states that only Cassidy Ryan can sign for it."

"A rule follower," Macdara said. "Good man." He gave Siobhán a pointed look.

"Wait here then and I'll see if me brother knows where she is." Siobhán ignored Macdara and headed for the restaurant.

Macdara followed her. "Let's try another question. Susan is walking to work one morning—"

"Not strolling?" Siobhán shot back.

"Two men suddenly come up behind her—Harry and Joe—" 

"Is this the same Joe who struck the cyclist?"

"They say, 'We won't hurt you as long as you give us the bag!' " Macdara was getting into it, acting out the role. Just as he was speaking, the restaurant doors opened and a young woman with long brunette hair emerged with a camera slung around her neck. She had not only caught the tail end of his statement, but Macdara was acting as if Siobhán had a handbag and he was going to snatch it.

The woman's eyes were panicked. "Leave her alone!" she yelled, running toward Siobhán. She started to tug on Macdara as she screamed at Siobhán. "Where's your bag?"

"I'm not carrying one," Siobhán said. She glared at Macdara. "And neither was the person in that scenario."

The woman let go of Macdara and stepped back, confusion planted on her pretty face.

"Of course she was carrying a handbag," Macdara said. "How could they try and rob it off her if she wasn't?"

"Then why doesn't it clearly state that she's carrying a handbag? Good old Harry and Joe just said, 'Give us the bag!' For all I know it was a SuperValu bag."

The woman's eyes ping-ponged between them, her shiny pink lips agape. She was slim and her dewy face was dotted with freckles. "Do either of you want me to call someone?"

Macdara turned to the young woman. "We're reading test questions," he said. "My stubborn wife is studying to become a detective sergeant." He shook his head. "Or should I say she's actively avoiding studying."