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A Man Apart
A Man Apart
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A Man Apart

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“Dammit, Matt, are you listening to me?”

John Werner stepped between the bed and the window, blocking Matt’s view of the street and giving him no option but to acknowledge him. The older man glared, his jaw thrust forward. “I’ve put up with your silent treatment long enough. If you think you can just clam up and pretend I’m not here, like you’ve been doing to me and everyone else for the past two weeks, think again. I won’t stand for it, you hear?”

John was a big bull of a man, standing six foot seven and weighing more than three hundred pounds. He had a broad, menacing face that looked as though it had been hewn from oak with a blunt ax and a voice that rumbled out like the wrath of God when he was angry. Most of the detectives on his squad cringed when he got on their cases.

Matt didn’t turn a hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t. You’ve had a steady stream of visitors—family and friends, the guys on the force, the department psychologist, even your doctors—but you barely talk to any of them. You just turn away and tune them out. The few times you have bothered to speak was just to bite someone’s head off. Well, it won’t work with me. Like it or not, we’re going to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, no? How about the fact that you’ve refused all the offers of help you’ve received? Huh? How about that? Hank here has practically begged you to come stay with him and his wife while you recuperate. So have several others, but you’ve turned them all down flat.” He nodded toward Hank Pierson, who stood on the other side of the room watching his partner with a worried expression. “Isn’t that right, Hank?”

“Sure is. Look, old buddy, it’s no problem. Patty and I really want you to stay with us.”

“Patty’s got enough on her hands with three kids to look after.”

“Hey, one more won’t bother Patty. Really. In fact, she insists. You know she thinks of you as family. We all do.”

“Thanks all the same, but no.” Matt shook his head and looked away.

“If you don’t want to stay with Hank and Patty, then how about someone else?” John persisted. “Several of the other guys and their wives have offered to look after you.”

“The answer is still no. I don’t need anyone to look after me. Besides, I don’t want to impose on my friends.”

“All right. I think you’re wrong and full of stiff-necked pride, but I understand. Trust me, though, like it or not, you will need someone to look after you when you leave here. At least for a while. So why don’t you let the department pay for a nurse to stay with you?”

“Forget it. I don’t want some stranger in my house. Anyway, I prefer to be alone. As soon as I get those discharge papers tomorrow, I’m going home.”

“You’re in no condition to stay in that town house alone,” John roared. “Dammit, man, you’ve got a long recuperation ahead of you, and once your body is healed you’re going to be in for some grueling rehab work before you’ll be ready to return to duty.”

Matt snorted. “What makes you think I’ll ever be?”

“Because I know you, you bullheaded Irishman. You’re not a quitter, any more than your old man was. And you love police work too much to throw in the towel without a fight.”

Matt shrugged. “The doctor doesn’t share your confidence.”

“So what does he know? You’re going to have to work your tail off for weeks, maybe even months, to pass the reentry physical, but if anyone can do it, you can.”

Matt gave another scornful snort. “You have more faith in me than I do.”’

“Probably, but that will change. Now, the way I see it, you’ve got two choices. You can either hire a live-in nurse or you can spend the summer up at my fishing lodge on Lake Livingston.”

“Your fishing lodge?”

“Why not? It’s the perfect place to recuperate. The fresh air and peace and quiet of the country will be good for you. You can go for walks in the woods and fish off the pier at first. Later, when you’re stronger, you can go sailing or take the fishing boat out onto the lake.”

“Don’t you have tenants at the lodge?”

“Just one right now, but that’s no problem. It’s a big place. You’ll probably never run into each other. Anyway, you can use my quarters. There’s a private entrance off the side veranda.”

“I still don’t—”

“This isn’t a suggestion, Dolan, it’s an order.”

Matt bristled. “You can’t order me to do anything when I’m not on duty.”

Smiling benignly, the lieutenant crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Oh, yeah? Don’t forget, you need my permission to even take the reentry physical. You spend the summer getting well at the lodge or you can forget about working the streets again. Got that, Dolan?”

“You’d do it, too, wouldn’t you?” Matt snarled. “You’d refuse to let me take the physical for street duty and stick me behind a desk.”

John shrugged and spread his hands wide. “Hey. It’s up to you, Dolan. All you have to do is recuperate and get back in shape up at Lake Livingston.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“Maybe,” John agreed with a shrug. “But I don’t see it that way. I’m just trying to help one of my men get back on his feet.”

“Listen to him, Matt,” Hank urged. “You gotta recuperate somewhere, and shoot, any way you look at it, that’s not bad duty. A carefree summer at a lake in a comfortable fishing lodge. If I thought Patty would allow it, I’d almost be tempted to go out and get myself shot if it meant a summer at the lake.” He paused and gave his partner a lopsided grin. “So whaddaya say?”

A muscle worked in Matt’s jaw as his gaze slid back and forth between his two friends. Hank’s expression was coaxing. John’s, though pleasant, was adamant, and unyielding as granite.

“Excuse me. Am I interrupting something?”

The heads of the other two men snapped around, but Matt merely gritted his teeth. He know that drawling voice with its underlay of laughter only too well. Turning his head slowly on the pillow, he stabbed the new arrival with a hard stare.

The man stood in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame, an amused smile on his roguishly handsome face. Everything about him—his loose stance, the careless panache of his attire, the smooth nonchalance—made him appear friendly and harmless, but Matt knew that beneath that laid-back charm was a sharp mind and a pitbull determination when he smelled a story.

Their gazes locked, one pair of vivid blue eyes narrowed and hard, with no trace of welcome, the other pair twinkling with curiosity and mischief and humor. Neither wavered.

“Who let you in here?” John snarled, putting an end to the silent battle. “I specifically told the staff that Matt’s room was off-limits to reporters.”

“C’mon, Lieutenant. Can’t a guy drop by to see an old friend?”

“Just because we’ve known each other for a few years doesn’t make us friends, Conway,” Matt growled.

“All right, then, a close acquaintance. And it’s been more than a few years. More like ten or eleven.”

“Whatever. I still don’t want you here. I have nothing to say to the press.”

“You heard the man.”

J. T. Conway straightened away from the doorjamb and stepped into the room, ignoring Hank’s warning. “Look, I just want to do a small piece on your recovery. The public want to know how their local hero is doing.”

“Yeah, right. We both know that if that was all you wanted, your paper would’ve sent a cub reporter, not their ace.”

A rueful grin hiked up one corner of J.T.’s mouth. “Okay, maybe I was hoping to get a quote or two about the raid. Word is, the dealer was tipped off. That someone in the department is on the take. How does it feel to know that you nearly bought the farm because one of your own is dirty?”

Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Get out.”

“Look, Matt, I know—”

“All right, that’s it. You’re outta here,” Hank growled. Both he and John took a menacing step toward the reporter.

“Whoa now. Look, guys, I’m just doing my job. The readers have a right to know—”

“How about I show you how it feels to eat teeth? How about that for a story? Your readers ought to love that.”

J.T. looked from one determined face to the other, weighing his chances. He was a big man, matching Matt’s six foot one and broad-shouldered build, but he knew when to back off. Raising both hands, palms out, he retreated. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” His blue eyes darted to Matt and he winked. “You get well, buddy.”

“Boy, the nerve of that guy,” Hank muttered after J.T. left.

The lieutenant, with his usual tenacity, turned his attention back to Matt. “If you go home to that town house of yours, you can expect more of that sort of thing. And there won’t be anyone there to run interference. If you go to the lake, you’ll have privacy. No one but Hank and me and a few others will even know you’re there.”

“Jeez! Don’t you ever give up?” Matt groaned. “Oh, all right! I’ll go to your damned fishing lodge.”

John beamed. “Good, good.” He rubbed his palms together. “I’ll make the arrangements. Hank will go by your place and pack your clothes, then be here tomorrow at checkout time to drive you up to the lake.”

“I’m thrilled,” Matt drawled.

“We’ll get out of here now and let you rest,” John returned, ignoring the sarcastic comment. “C’mon, Hank.”

Out in the hallway Hank fell into step with the lieutenant. When they were out of earshot of the room, he cleared his throat and asked, “Uh, does Matt know who your tenant at the lodge is?”

“Nope. We made our deal after he was shot.”

“That’s what I thought. Are you sure you know what you’re doing boss?”

They reached the bank of elevators and John punched the down button. The doors of the waiting elevator opened and the two men stepped inside.

“Absolutely. I’ve given this a lot of thought,” John replied, punching the button for the lobby. “Matt’s like an injured animal right now, snapping and snarling at everyone and trying his best to curl up in the dark alone and lick his wounds. Well, I’ll be damned if I let him.”

The lieutenant leaned back against the elevator wall and shot his detective a self-satisfied look. “Tender loving care and nurturing—that’s the best medicine for what ails him. In other words, what Matt needs most right now is a good dose of Maude Ann.”

Chapter Two

Matt felt every pothole and bump as the car bounced along the dirt road through the woods. Clutching the armrest, he gritted his teeth against the pain and tried to maintain a stoic expression, but a hard jar made him groan. “Ahhh…damn, doesn’t the lieutenant ever grade this excuse for a road?”

“Sorry.” Hank slanted him a sheepish look. “I’m going as slow as I can. Hang on. The lodge is just around the next bend.”

“Yeah, I know.” Matt had been to the lodge with John several times to fish.

He looked around at the thick woods on either side of the road. Through the trees on the right he caught an occasional glimpse of the lake, but there were no houses or people in sight. That was the main reason he had agreed to come here. The lodge was about two miles down the gravel road from the highway and the only structure on this finger of land, so he would have plenty of privacy.

John had inherited the lodge and all the land between it and the highway from an uncle. At present he was merely renting out a few boats, and occasionally a tenant occupied the building. When John retired, his plan was to reopen the place as a fishing lodge and run it himself.

“You know, I really do envy you, getting to spend the summer here,” Hank said as he brought the car to a stop in the circular drive in front of the lodge. “This is a real nice place, in a rustic sort of way.”

The large, two-story building sat in a clearing about a hundred yards from the lakeshore. Made of rough cedar, it had a covered veranda that ran all the way around, with porch swings and groupings of wicker furniture at intervals so that the fishermen who came here could sit and enjoy the view. John’s uncle had built the lodge to cater to people who preferred a quiet place where they could go fishing and boating, and just relax and enjoy good family-style meals and the peace and quiet of the country.

In addition to John’s quarters, the place had a huge living room, kitchen and dining room on the first floor and eight bedrooms and six bathrooms on the second floor.

“It’s easy to see why the lieutenant is so proud of it,” Hank continued. “You’re gonna be real comfortable here.”

Matt doubted that. These days he wasn’t comfortable anywhere. His wounds still throbbed and ached, and every step he made was pure agony, causing the mutilated muscles and tendons in his thigh to scream in protest.

With assistance from Hank and leaning heavily on a cane, Matt climbed the veranda steps. However, when he reached the top he was so wobbly he had to sit down in the first swing he reached, while Hank unloaded his bags from the car and carried them to his room. In no time his partner reappeared. “There’s something that smells delicious cooking in two big pots in the kitchen, but other than that there’s no sign of John’s tenant.”

“Good. I hope it stays that way.”

Hank looked away and shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “Yeah, well, I guess I’d better be heading back so you can unpack and get settled. Is there anything else you need before I go?”

“Don’t think so.” Matt knew his partner was worried about leaving him alone, but the truth was, that was exactly what he wanted. He was in no mood for socializing, not even with his best friend. “Look, don’t worry about me, okay. I’ll be fine.”

“Well…if you’re sure. And remember, if you need anything—anything at all—you just give me a call.”

As his partner drove away, Matt looked around. In addition to being a fisherman and guide, John’s uncle had been an avid gardener. Though isolated on wooded lake-shore, the lodge was surrounded by a neat lawn and a bed of roses, and other flowers Matt couldn’t name bordered the porch all around. From previous visits, Matt knew that there was also a vegetable garden out back, plus a large garage and storage shed.

Along one side and across the back, the forest came right up to the yard but a small, open meadow separated the lawn from the woods on the west side. At the front of the lodge the lawn went all the way down to the lake. The boat dock and fishing pier was a quarter mile or so farther along the shore, out of sight of the lodge and reached by a path through the woods.

It was a great place, and under other circumstances, Matt would have enjoyed being here to soak up the sunshine and nature, but now he resented being forced to stay when all he wanted was to go home and shut out the world.

The lieutenant had been right about one thing, Matt thought, looking around at the peaceful scene. He certainly shouldn’t have any trouble with nosy reporters out here in the boonies.

The sound of voices drew Matt’s attention to the woods along the east side of the yard just as a woman and a gang of children emerged. Annoyance firmed his mouth as they headed across the lawn toward the lodge. Great. Just what he needed.

They were either lost or trespassing, since all the land between there and the highway belonged to John Werner. Either way, Matt intended to send them packing.

The children were of different ages and, from what he could tell from that distance, different ethnic backgrounds. Dressed in shorts, T-shirts and dirty tennis shoes, they were sweaty, grubby and bedraggled. Oddly, each child carried a pan or bucket.

It was the woman, however, who drew his attention. She also wore shorts and a T-shirt, but on her, the common garments were unbelievably sexy, showing off full breasts, long legs and a curvy figure that made a man’s mouth go dry. Her auburn hair, a wild mane of curls that billowed around her face and shoulders, glinted red in the sunlight. It was that slow, hip-rolling walk, though, that distracted him most. Just watching her approach, he felt a surge of heat in his loins. It was the first time he’d experienced that particular reaction since he’d been shot, and it both pleased and annoyed him.

Putting as much weight as he could on his cane, Matt struggled to his feet. As the group drew nearer and he was about to launch into a blistering lecture about intruding on private property, the woman waved to him and called out, “Hi, there! I’m sorry we weren’t here when you arrived.”

Matt stiffened, his eyes narrowing as an uneasy feeling crept up his spine. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman, but she wasn’t the kind of female any red-blooded male was likely to forget.

“Hey, mister! Lookit what we gots,” a little blond cherub with a dirty face exclaimed.

Before he could stop them, the pack of children clambered noisily up the porch steps and the woman followed. The little blond cherub held up her bucket for him to admire, but the rest of the kids just eyed him with suspicion, as though he was the one who shouldn’t be there.

“All right, kids, take your blackberries inside and rinse them in the colander with cold water. Debbie, sweetheart, don’t bother the man.” She shot him a grin. “Sorry about that. She’s just proud of picking so many berries.”

Before he could reply, the woman turned back to the kids and clapped her hands. “Okay, introductions will come later. Everybody inside. Marshall, you and Yolanda see to the younger ones. And Tyrone, you and Dennis knock off that shoving.”

Matt stared at her, his uneasiness growing.

She turned back to Matt and cocked one auburn eyebrow. “Detective Dolan? You haven’t said a word. Is something wrong?”