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?”
“I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”
The woman tossed back her head and laughed, and instantly he knew who she was. No man could ever forget that low, husky sound.
“Goodness. I know it’s been a couple of years, but surely I haven’t changed that much.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Maude Ann Henley, Tom Henley’s widow. You’re that shrink who used to work for the department.”
And