In the Running Page 7

  A broad smile lit his face when he saw the large sealers of sauce cooling on the counter. “Spaghetti and meatballs?”

  “Reenie offered us some for our supper, Dad,” Bronwyn told him.

  “So you’re generous as well as good-lookin’,” he said as he sat down heavily at the knotty pine plank table. “All Matt said was you could cook up a storm. How ‘bout some coffee, Wyn?”

  “You don’t have time,” Matt objected, checking his watch. “I guess you didn’t check your messages. Walt Ames wants to meet you in half an hour at Elsie’s Restaurant.”

  “Wouldn’t you know? We’ll have to leave now. Oh, speaking of messages, Matt, you haven’t got back to Sandra Field yet, have you? She’s called me three times.” She grinned at him. She’s really glad you’re back in town and wants to get together. I think she’s serious about the together part.”

  Matt looked uncomfortable. This development didn’t cheer Reenie up either. Of course, she should have expected that an attractive man like Matt would have the local women interested.

  “I thought you’d outgrown that mean streak, Wyn,” Matt told her. “Leave. I’ll look after things here and take Pete back to your house after we’ve had some lunch.”

  “I might decide to stay here,” Pete stated.

  “Now, Dad.” Bronwyn looked a little frazzled. “Don’t start that again. I have to get to town. We’ll discuss this later.”

  The older man waved her away. “Go to your meeting.”

  Bronwyn rolled her eyes and raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “You can’t change the facts. Matt has work to do and you’re not ready to stay here on your own.”

  As the door closed behind her, Pete turned to his son.

  “Did Wyn tell you she’s been offered a full time job over to the hospital starting next week? Full time days.”

  “What rotten timing,” Matt exclaimed. “Can they wait a couple of weeks?”

  “They need her Monday. She’ll never get another chance for straight days. Donna… she’s Jeff’s wife,” he explained to Reenie. “Well, Donna said she’d look after Tommy after school. I’m the only fly in the ointment.”

  His disgruntled face showed what he thought of that role.

  “Don’t see why I can’t move back home by the weekend,” Pete grumbled. “I’m in the way over there. I can take it easy here just as well as I can at Wyn’s.”

  “It’s your house.” Matt shrugged. “You talk to Doc Warner about this?”

  Pete snorted his disgust. “Warner’s a timid old woman. Thinks I might take a tumble. I could do that anywhere.”

  “If you think we can manage, I’ll go along,” Matt told him. “You’re the judge of how you’re feeling.”

  Maura was digging covered dishes out of the refrigerator. Matt moved over to help her carry them to the stove.

  “I guess you get to help us eat up last night’s leftovers, Pete,” he said. “Unless you want a peanut butter sandwich.”

  The way the two men cleared their plates of reheated chicken and lit into the apple pie was gratifying. When they were finished, Matt cleared the lunch plates off the table, insisting Maura finish her dessert.

  “Fair’s fair,” he said. “Cook shouldn’t have to clean up.”

  Pete leaned far back in his chair. “Good groceries,” he stated, giving Maura a long considering look from under his bushy brows. “You really looking for work around here?”

  She had an idea where this was leading. For the Hansons’ sake, she should make up some reason why she’d changed her mind about working locally, but she really had to earn some money.

  “Yes, I am,” she said. “I hope to start looking tomorrow.”

  “How’d you like to work for me? I’m going to need a cook and housekeeper for the next couple of weeks. I’ll pay you the going rate. If that spaghetti tastes as good as this chicken did, I’m getting a good deal.”

  When Maura flashed a hesitant glance at Matt, Pete added, “We can heal at the same time and keep an eye on each other. You’ll have a better chance of getting a job at one of the ski lodges when you don’t look like you’ve been in a fight.”

  Matt nodded slowly. “It’s probably the best solution to all our problems. What do you think, Reenie?”

  Did she really have any choice? At least while her features were still swollen and discolored, no one was likely to recognize her. Walt’s presence in Millbridge today was a fluke. She’d be far away the next time GEL business called him back. Two weeks would give her time to figure out what her next move was.

  If she kept a low profile, her presence shouldn’t endanger the Hansons. On the other hand, she didn’t know how long she could avoid Matt’s questions. Keeping her wits about her in the company of a man who could turn her spine to jelly by simply looking at her was definitely a problem.

  “Thanks for the offer, Mr. Hanson,” she began.

  “It’s Pete, Reenie,” he cut in with an encouraging smile.

  “Pete,” she acknowledged, smiling back. “I would like to cook for you, but you’ll need your room back,” she hedged. “I need to find a place to stay.”

  “Well, girl…” There was a kindly glint in his shrewd black eyes. “There’s lots of room. Four bedrooms upstairs, and there’s an apartment over the shop where the college students who hire on as summer help stay.”

  Matt’s bedroom was upstairs.

  “Maybe over the shop,” she agreed.

  She tried to hide her elation. In her own apartment, there’d be less chance of meeting the Hansons’ friends who might want to pry into the background of the waif Matt had picked up. The pay for two weeks’ work wouldn’t be enough to finance her getaway, but it would be enough to get her to a larger center where she could get lost in the crowds.

  Her relief was short-lived.

  She heard the front door opening and Bronwyn’s voice saying, “Come on in, Walt. I want you to meet my father. He’s the one you want to talk to about the information-gathering network and setting up the telephone fan-out.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” a hearty, all-too-familiar voice pronounced.

  Chapter Seven

  “We’re in the kitchen, Bronwyn,” Pete called out to the newcomers.

  Maura tried to compose herself, but Matt must have noticed her reaction to Walt’s arrival because, without undue fuss, he took her by the arm and began to hustle her towards the back door.

  “While Pete and Wyn are involved with GEL business, let’s go out and take a look at the apartment, Reenie,” he suggested. “A little fresh air will do you good.”

  Pete looked surprised for a second but gave a brisk nod of agreement. “Good idea.” He winked at Reenie. “We’ll talk about the details after Bronwyn’s company leaves.”

  They didn’t quite make it out the back door before Bronwyn and her companion reached the kitchen. They were forced to stop while Wyn performed the introductions.

  “And this is Reenie Kelly, who is staying with us for a few days,” Bronwyn finished.

  Maura found it odd that Walt’s impeccable image hadn’t changed in the sixty-four hours that had completely changed her life and appearance. Not a lock of his sandy hair dared fall out of place and his well-tailored suit fit as if it was part of his lean body. She held her breath when he turned his attention to her.

  His cool, hazel eyes swept over her casually, then zeroed in, for an uncomfortable moment, on her eyes. Walt’s smile stiffened. Had he recognized her or was he simply surprised by her bruised and battered face?

  However, Walt took her hand, then Matt’s in firm, campaign-style handshakes, flashed a practiced smile, and said he was delighted to meet them. Maura was able to muster a weak smile in return before Walt turned back to Pete and the purpose of his visit.

  That was all!

  “Bronwyn tells me you might help us out with a new information project we want to launch, Mr. Hanson.” Walt was definitely wearing his National Chairman of GEL hat this afternoon. “It�
�s modeled on Crime Stoppers. We have a 1-800 number people can use anonymously. We want the public to be able to notify GEL without delay if they witness any illegal dumping.”

  Walt hadn’t recognized her!

  “Mind if I lend Reenie your old jacket, Wyn?” Matt broke in, reaching for a red corduroy jacket that was hanging on a peg in the mudroom. “We’re going out to look at the apartment.”

  Bronwyn threw her father an exasperated look.

  “Go right ahead,” she said, waving them on their way.

  They made their escape. Maura didn’t take time to do up the jacket before they stepped out into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

  The unexpectedly warm air was soft on her face. The jet stream had apparently made another erratic loop north and allowed moist Mississippi air to rush into Michigan for a short blast of Indian summer. The bright sunshine dancing on the blue waters of the bay made it hard to credit how cold and bleak the marina had looked only two nights ago.

  Matt’s presence did a lot to drive her lost feeling away. It was too bad she’d never know how their relationship might have developed under normal circumstances. She’d never experienced anything like Matt’s kiss. If he hadn’t had the sense to pull away from her, who knows where it could have led? But the circumstances were anything but normal. Any minute he was going to repeat his demand for information he had every right to expect and which she had to refuse.

  “The apartment is above the shop. It’s over there,” he pointed out, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Past the boathouse. I’ll drive you.”

  “I’d rather walk.” Resisting the temptation to snuggle into his casual embrace, she hurried ahead of him. “Who knows when we’ll get another day like this?”

  He matched his stride to hers and they walked in silence for a few minutes. When they drew near a long narrow building that stood at one end of a concrete pier, he took her hand.

  “Come with me.” The note of boyish excitement was unexpected in his gruff voice. “I want to show you something special.”

  The boathouse smelled of sawdust, paint stripper and varnish. They walked by several wooden cribs which held medium-sized boats in various stages of repair. At the far end of the room, Matt stopped beside a large sailboat.

  “Well,” he said, beaming. “There she is!”

  The smooth mahogany hull must have been close to forty feet long. Sitting up in the air as it did, the boat looked massive. In the water, her lines would be low and sleek.

  “Oh, Matt,” she breathed. “She’s magnificent. Will you sail her on the lake, or take her outside?”

  “Outside?” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re a sailor?”

  Maura laughed. “Never in anything this big. A friend of mine who’s married to a marine engineer on a freighter refers to his ocean voyages as working ‘on the outside.’ To him, the Great Lakes are ‘inside.’ Kind of tame.”

  The sensuality in the way Matt’s hands absently caressed the smooth wood made the laugh die in her throat.

  “I always thought I’d like to own an ocean-going ketch like this and take her outside on an open-ended cruise. I’d keep going until I stopped being curious about the next port.” He paused. “Doesn’t look as if that’s going to happen. But I’ll have the best sailing craft on Houghton Lake.”

  She’d never have suspected Matt had a romantic side.

  “You could always put it in Lake Huron. You can go anywhere you want from there.” She wanted to know more about him. “Have you done a lot of sailing?”

  “When I was based in Washington, my buddy, Ryan, and I kept a boat for a few seasons, but we never got away for more than a week at a time on it. Where did you do your sailing?”

  This kind of conversation belonged at a Yacht Club cocktail party or a summer weekend mixer at Driftwood Lodge. But she and Matt weren’t carefree vacationers. She would never see him at the helm of his dream craft.

  “I learned to sail on my dad’s Flying Junior on Lake Erie.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him her parents had drowned in a boating accident on that same sailboat. She clamped her mouth shut. He was too easy to open up to.

  She began to walk quickly back the way they’d come. “Is the apartment in the next building?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “About a hundred feet to your right.” Matt sounded understandably puzzled by her abrupt retreat.

  Outside a lopsided two-story building that proclaimed itself “Marina Office,” Matt produced a set of keys.

  “In summer, we use the outside staircase in the back. But the steps can get icy. Off-season, we use the inside stairs.”

  While he was busy with the lock, she peered in through the large front window. Its display area was a jumble of ill-assorted water gear. Paddles were side by side with fishing rods and lures. A molded plastic windsurfer leaned against a scuba tank. Various pumps and engine parts were piled in one corner of the window beside some really elegant brass fitting and lamps. Maura’s fingers itched to make order out of the chaos.

  “Come through here, Reenie.” Matt indicated a pathway through the piles of cardboard cartons. “Since Pete’s operation, nothing’s been put away,” he added, a little sheepishly. “I was going to start on this stuff - at least, take the engine parts over to the machine shop, but Pete wants everything left for him.”

  “He strikes me as a man who hates being beholden,” Maura commented.

  “Particularly to a prodigal son.” Matt muttered, forging ahead up the stairs.

  When she stepped inside the apartment, Maura felt as if she’d come home. In spite of its closed-up smell, the place gave the impression of being bright and airy. Sunshine poured in through large windows that looked out over the bay from every angle.

  The living room contained a bed sofa covered in emerald green and blue chintz, two wooden armchairs with cushions of the same crisp flowered material and a large round wooden table with four mismatched chairs. The kitchen was small but efficient. The bathroom had a marvelous big clawfoot tub with a curtain and a hand-held shower like the one in Pete’s washroom. The two bedrooms were bright but Spartan. The small one contained a double bed and a dresser; the larger held twin beds, a couple of futons, two battered dressers, and a large table.

  She liked the view from the smaller bedroom, which overlooked the dock area and the bay. Several floating docks were piled up on land for the winter, but she could imagine the dozens of boats that would be moored on the sparkling water in summer. She’d like to see that, she thought wistfully.

  “What do you think?”

  Matt’s low voice, almost at her shoulder, startled her. She’d been so excited by the possibilities of the apartment, that she hadn’t heard him come into the room. He was leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. The tension around his eyes, however, betrayed his keen interest in her answer.

  “It’s perfect,” she exclaimed.

  A fleeting smile softened his face.

  “Can I move in here tomorrow?” She wondered if a person with no possessions “moved in”.

  “Sure, if that fits in with Wyn’s plans. It can’t be too soon for Pete.” His dark eyes scanned her face. “You won’t be frightened out here alone?”

  “You and your family are the only ones who know I’m here.”

  Matt looked out the window, and waited. The silence was heavy.

  “Don’t you think it’s time you told me about the trouble you’re in?” he bit out, finally. “Are the police after you?”

  “No!” she exclaimed. “I don’t blame you for wondering what kind of person you’re taking into your home, Matt, but I swear I haven’t committed any crime.”

  When he did meet her eyes, his doubts about her honesty were written all over his face. The injustice of it was infuriating. She was so law-abiding, she’d never even had a parking ticket.

  “Then why are you terrified of every passing stranger? I thought you were going to pass out when you hear
d Walt’s voice.”

  It was tempting to tell him that Walt Ames was no stranger, to share the whole ugly mess with him. But she’d had time to think about what that photo of Jon with Sal Gerardo implied.

  She’d seen headlines about Gerardo being investigated for some kind of racketeering but hadn’t been interested enough at the time to read the article. She’d noticed the name only because of Danny’s mother’s connection with Gerardo. She had been led to believe that Danny had nothing to do with his mother’s family. What were Jon and Danny tangled up in? She had a feeling the answer might be in the printouts in the manila envelope.

  Who knew how many ruthless men wanted her out of the way? If Matt didn’t know anything, there would be no reason to hurt him or his family.

  “All I can tell you is that the man I was engaged to has a lot of connections, and he wants me dead.”

  “That’s not good enough, Reenie.”

  Reenie! The most fascinating man she’d ever met didn’t even know her real name. Lord, she hated all this lying! One look at his determined face and she knew she had to tell him another part of the truth.

  “I found out he wasn’t the man I thought he was. He knows I could ruin him…”

  Matt’s dark, intense eyes were focused on her lips. Oh, Lord! She wanted to taste his mouth just once more. He was bending closer.

  She tilted her head away a fraction of an inch. She had to say this, “…And it’s too dangerous. I won’t involve you in this.”

  Her blue eyes begged him to go along with her decision, but Matt knew it was too late.

  “Do you honestly believe I’m not already involved?” The word “involved” echoed ominously in his head. But it was true. Until Reenie was safe from whatever menace she was running from, he was not moving from her side.

  “I’ll be leaving in two weeks,” Lord, but she was stubborn. “You’ll never see me again. They’ll never know you had anything to do with me.”

  “They?”

  She gave him one last pleading look. “Please give it a rest, Matt.”