The Southern Comfort Series Box Set

by Clark O'Neill, Lisa

  Kathleen swallowed a sigh as she stood up. Apparently they were going to baby her, after all. She would have been annoyed, but she knew they meant well.

  “Gee, you guys are subtle. The elbow’s sore, but I can certainly drive.”

  Josh looked skeptical and Mac coughed.

  “Oh, give me a break. My driving isn’t that bad.”

  “Tell that to my mailbox,” Mac said darkly.

  “It was a moving van. They have no windows.” Kathleen checked her weapon and grabbed her car keys from the desk. “See if I ever help you relocate again.”

  “I might have to. I can’t get any mail.”

  Kathleen shook her head as Josh snorted out another laugh. “Don’t know why I need that shirt when I already have you two boobs.” Straightening her jacket, she edged around her desk. “Try not to hurt yourselves while I’m gone.”

  “JUSTIN!”

  Justin’s first instinct upon hearing his name called in that particular voice was to cringe. Then to run far, far away. Barring that, he considered pretending he simply hadn’t heard anything. Or maybe just grabbing a scalpel to slit his own throat.

  “Justin, wait up!”

  Cursing the manners his mother had obviously brainwashed him with, he halted his escape down the hall. And schooling his features to reveal no panic whatsoever, turned with a polite smile.

  “Hello, Mandy.”

  Her frosted blonde curls bounced as she jiggled to a stop, looking lush and tempting as a bakery cupcake in candy pink scrubs. And equally bad for his health.

  “Geez,” her cupid’s bow mouth pursed in a pretty pout. “And I thought my legs were long. But I practically had to run to keep up with you.”

  Which was the general idea. “Sorry,” he said, and stared at a point just over her shoulder. If he looked any lower, he’d remember exactly why he’d let Mandy’s legs keep up with him in the first place. And if he looked at that mouth, all he saw was it saying “you know, I really like your house, Justin, but it could use a woman’s touch.” Right before she left her toothbrush in his medicine cabinet. And a change of clothes hanging in his closet.

  Then he’d somehow found himself at a fabric store, discussing curtains.

  Fighting a shudder, he met her warm honey eyes. “I was on my way to get some coffee. I just finished up in the OR.”

  “Oh, I heard.” She put her petal-soft hand on his arm, where it lay like a shackle. “The accident on Seventeen. You caught a bad one.”

  He had. All the more reason to avoid any more unpleasantness. “The kid will live, but he lost part of a leg.” And a football scholarship along with it. Talking to the parents about why he hadn’t been able to save their son’s mangled limb – six days before Christmas – had, needless to say, been the low point of his day.

  “Poor baby.” She pressed against him, and he reluctantly felt his blood stir. Classical conditioning.

  “I’ll live. Though only if I get some coffee. So I’ll see you later.”

  “I could go with you.” Mandy clung to his arm, and Justin considered that he really had to stop dating nurses. Never mind that the only other women he encountered were usually sedated and bleeding from multiple wounds.

  That would just make it easier for him to get away.

  “That’s sweet of you, Mandy, but –”

  “Justin!”

  He nearly wept with relief, because he had no idea what excuse he’d been going for. He was too tired to pull one out of his hat. And Mandy had probably moved his hat to make room for her shoes, anyway.

  He turned, Mandy still stuck like a blonde gumdrop to his arm, and saw Kathleen in the crowd exiting the elevator. With a well-dressed, sandy-haired guy he didn’t recognize. Though the way the guy moved said “cop.”

  Did she have a new partner? He hoped not, because he liked Mac. Big, solid, menacing. Justin trusted him to have Kathleen’s back.

  This new guy… he took in the cool green eyes, and the way they skimmed over Mandy like algae across a pretty pond. Nope, he didn’t trust this guy at all.

  “Hey,” he said when they’d made their way over. “What are you doing here? Your elbow’s not giving you trouble, is it?” He lifted her arm to a right angle from her body, with the side benefit of dislodging Mandy.

  Kathleen rolled her eyes. “Do I pat you down when I see you?”

  “I’ll be happy to spread ‘em later.”

  “It’s fine,” Kathleen gritted while the new guy coughed into his hand and Mandy went stiff beside him. To hell with them.

  “There’s a little bit of swelling.” He eased her arm down, watched her try to hide a wince. Guilt gnawed at him with sharp little teeth. He’d hit her with his full weight when he’d rolled her under the table, and even though he was lean, at six foot three he was no lightweight.

  The situation had warranted it, but he hated that she’d been hurt.

  “Could we discuss this later? As in, without an audience?” she murmured around an over-bright smile.

  “Fine,” he whispered back. “But I told you last night I thought you should have a sling. I’m not going to let you steamroll me like you did the orthopedist.”

  “Let me introduce you to Detective Rutledge,” she said loudly, and swept her good arm toward the man like a game show hostess. “I believe you spoke with his partner yesterday. They’re in charge of the Jugs investigation.”

  “Of course,” he said and Mandy said “Jugs?” Ignoring her, he extended a hand to the other detective. “Justin Wellington. You have some more questions I can help you with?”

  “Actually Detective Murphy already took care of it. Blond kid came in as an OD, matched the description you gave us. She says it’s him, so now we just run his prints through the system, see if we can get a name, and hope he pulls through. It looks iffy.”

  “Jugs?” Mandy grabbed his arm again. “Are you talking about that drive-by shooting? The one that killed all those gang members? You were there?”

  “Um, Mindy –”

  “Mandy,” she corrected Kathleen.

  “Sorry.” Kathleen smiled, her I’m-Irish-and-charming beamer. “I hate to interrupt, but could we borrow Doctor Wellington for just a few minutes? Police business.”

  “Oh.” Mandy blinked, but she let go of his arm.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” Justin said. Much, much later.

  When she was gone, he turned a grimace on Kathleen. “I owe you.”

  “You were giving off that panic vibe.”

  “Pretty woman,” Rutledge commented, unwrapping a stick of gum and folding it into his mouth.

  “I’d be delighted to introduce you,” Justin said fervently, feeling a little like a used car salesman. Then he forcefully evicted Mandy from his mind, much as he’d evicted her from his house. He had bigger issues to worry about. “So the kid OD’d. His heart rate was through the roof, which wasn’t that surprising given the circumstances, but his skin was hot when I touched him. That’s a good indicator for meth. Damn it, I suspected he was in bad shape, but he panicked when I mentioned the cops. And then I discovered the waitress, so I pretty much forgot about him in the commotion.”

  “Justin.” Kathleen touched his arm, warm through his scrubs. “You know you aren’t responsible.”

  “And you did a damn good job with that waitress,” Rutledge added, his raspy voice making the words tumble like loose gravel. He reminded Justin of someone, though he couldn’t put his finger on whom. “I talked to her earlier. Looks like she’s going to pull through with flying colors.”

  Justin nodded. “I checked on her when I came on shift. She’s a trooper.”

  “Uh-huh.” Rutledge crumpled his wrapper, tucking it into the pocket of his dark overcoat. His eyes strayed to Justin’s arm, and Justin realized he’d laid his hand over Kathleen’s. He could have moved it, but he didn’t want to. Let the guy think what he wanted.

  “Well, anyway,” Rutledge shot Justin an amused glance “like I said, let’s just hope the kid p
ulls through, too. The way it’s shaping up, he might be the only one who got a look at the shooter.” He turned to Kathleen. “Murphy, thanks for the help, but I need to head out. And Doc, nice to meet you.”

  As he walked away, purposeful yet casual, Justin angled his head to the side. “Columbo.”

  “What?”

  “Detective Rutledge. That’s who he reminds me of.”

  Kathleen looked at the man’s retreating back, disbelief written on her face. “He’s blond. And pressed. And I’ve yet to have him ask me to borrow a pencil.”

  Justin waved a dismissive hand. “He’s unassuming. But it’s in the eyes.”

  “Well, he’s no dummy, if that’s what you mean.” She leaned closer, blinked. “Which means he’s probably smart enough to avoid Mindy’s clutches, despite your attempted pawn. Are you sure you broke up? Because she was climbing you like a vine.”

  “Her name is Mandy,” he said, morose.

  “I know. I’m just rattling your cage.” She pulled away, straightened the jacket of the suit that should have made her slender form look mannish. Instead, it just made him want to rip it off with his teeth.

  Wow. Justin blinked. He must be more tired than he realized, if he was having thoughts like that.

  “Well, I better get going, too. You’re coming to the Christmas party, right?”

  “What?”

  “The Christmas party. Murphy’s.” Then she smiled, and as it sometimes happened, Justin forgot his own name. “Tomorrow night?”

  “Oh.” Justin blinked again. “Right.”

  “Excellent. I’ll see you there.”

  She strolled off, tall and confident and lovely and nothing he could have. Because they were friends. Good friends. And she was a homicide detective. And he was a surgeon. Three strikes against them even before good ole Anthony had stepped in and grabbed the bat.

  Annoyed with himself, Justin started down the hall toward sanity-restoring coffee, stopping when he realized he’d forgotten a sling for her arm. He thought of the smile, the party invitation.

  “Unbelievable.” He shook his head. She’d steamrolled him after all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “SO where’s Anthony?”

  “Who?” Kathleen turned away from Sadie to watch the spectacle of her father in a Santa suit, frowning as her hugely pregnant sister handed him a cup of low fat, nonalcoholic eggnog. Judging by the look on his face, the old elf wasn’t feeling too jolly. “Ten bucks says Dad pours that in the Christmas tree stand as soon as Maureen turns her back.”

  “What am I, a sucker? Now about Anthony. I thought he was coming tonight.”

  Kathleen swung her bar stool back around to look at her sister-in-law. Sadie’s platinum hair was shiny and softly curled, her little round cheeks glowing, her fuzzy red sweater making her look like something Santa had just dropped from his sleigh.

  Kathleen shook her head as she dredged a cheese straw in the crab and artichoke dip she was hoarding. “I thought newly pregnant women were supposed to be sick and miserable all the time. You look like you just got back from the spa.”

  Sadie shifted on her bar stool. “Must be all the healthy eating.”

  “Maureen and Tate ate healthy, and they both vomited their way through the first three or four months.” She popped the cheese straw in her mouth.

  Sadie’s eyes followed. “We were discussing Anthony.”

  “We were?”

  “Kathleen.”

  “Oh, alright.” Kathleen looked around the noisy pub, crowded with her friends and family, redolent of gingerbread and good cheer, a happy fire dancing in the antique hearth beneath the handmade stockings her mother had knitted, and felt like gathering everything up and dumping it off the top of Mount Krumpet.

  Her elbow hurt. Jingle Bells was playing for the fiftieth time that night. And she’d been marginalized again by her lover. “I’m not sure he’ll be able to make it. Something came up.”

  A frown puckered Sadie’s brow. “He missed Thanksgiving, too.”

  “Well, technically, he didn’t. He just missed ours.” Jingle Bells switched to White Christmas and Kathleen thought, shut up, Bing. “You know he has a huge family too, and he wanted me to go with him. But this was a big year for us, what with you and Maureen’s husband joining the family, and all these babies on the way. And I had deep, deep suspicions about Rogan and Kim –”

  “Wasn’t that wonderful?” Sadie sighed to herself, in raptures over the way Kathleen’s other brother had proposed to his longtime girlfriend by substituting her napkin ring with a diamond one.

  “It was great.” Kathleen snagged another cheese straw.

  “But I thought you were doing the whole Christmas thing at his parents’ house,” Sadie peeled her eyes away from the cheese straw to say. “Which means this is the only chance we have to see him. Come to think of it,” she wrinkled her nose, looking like a bemused angel. “I don’t think I’ve set eyes on him since… oh. Oh. Halloween. You were wearing that rod of green velvet curtains with the pattern pieces cut out. And Anthony was supposed to be Scarlett O’Hara – which was a fantastic idea, by the way – complete with green velvet dress. But Anthony was late. And when he finally showed up, he wasn’t in costume.”

  The cheese straw turned to dust in her mouth. Kathleen had spent that whole night as a bad joke without a punch line.

  “He got caught up doing surveillance. No big deal.”

  “Well, that’s charitable of you.”

  “Anthony’s a good guy, Sadie.”

  “Anthony’s a great guy.” Sadie leaned forward, just a little. “So why are you so unhappy?”

  “Who said I’m unhappy?”

  “Kathleen –”

  “Here.” Kathleen was spared from having to hear the rest of what she already suspected was true when her brother Declan came up to the bar, carelessly efficient and cantankerous as ever, to plunk a glass down in front of her. “Real eggnog, not that crap Maureen is passing out. Don’t say I never gave you anything. Hot cider for you,” he said as he slid a mug in front of his wife. “No alcohol for the little guy until he can hold a beer by himself.”

  “He?” Kathleen arched a brow at her brother, who dipped his goateed chin in a nod before grabbing a couple cheese straws.

  “It’s a boy,” he said as he munched. “Declan, the next generation.”

  “We don’t know that,” Sadie said reassuringly when she saw Kathleen’s look of horror.

  “Hell we don’t.” He came around the end of the bar to wrap his arms around Sadie, one hand straying down to pat her still flat belly. “Maureen and Tate are having girls, so God sent me to provide reinforcements.”

  Kathleen turned her disgust on his wife. “How do you not smother him in his sleep?”

  “Well, I would.” Sadie snuggled back against him, and Kathleen felt a pang of jealousy, immediately followed by guilt. “But the Smithsonian pays so well when they borrow him for their caveman exhibit.”

  Unfazed, Declan angled his dark head toward the door. “Doctor Hopeless is here.”

  Still coming back from that pang – she was happy for the two of them, damn it – Kathleen wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “Doctor Hopeless?”

  “I think he means Justin,” Sadie explained and Declan muttered “Some detective you are.”

  “What was that all about?” she said to Sadie after Dec dropped a kiss on her blonde head and sauntered away, more holiday snark to dispense.

  Sadie just looked at her over the rim of her mug. “You know how it pains me to agree with your brother, but for a clever woman, you can sure be dumb. Hello, Justin.”

  Confused, Kathleen turned to see the man himself, tall and broad-shouldered in his white cable knit sweater, lean cheeks ruddy from the chilly air, holding onto a brightly wrapped package.

  “Sadie. You’re looking well.” He planted a smacking kiss on her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

  “Never better.”

  “I guess you’re on
e of those lucky women with whom pregnancy agrees. Kathleen.” He extended the package. “For you.”

  “What?” She dropped a cheese straw back onto the platter. “We weren’t supposed to get each other anything. Were we?” She did a mental checklist and shook her head. She never suggested exchanging gifts when she didn’t absolutely have to, because shopping for them made her break out in a rash. “No, I’m absolutely sure we weren’t. You really shouldn’t have, Justin.”

  “Oh, hush. Just open it,” Sadie said, and then to Justin “Would you like a drink?”

  “Um, is that eggnog?”

  Kathleen tuned them out while she slid her fingers under the shiny green foil, its dozens of tiny reindeer prancing across fluffy piles of glittering snow, mocking the fact that she’d been channeling the Grinch, and tried to figure out how she felt about the unexpected present. She and Justin had been friends for – well, several years now, wasn’t it? – and they’d never moved beyond buying each other a round or two on their respective birthdays. He’d tried to pick up the tab the first time they’d eaten out, but she’d squelched that and ever since then they’d gone dutch. Maybe he felt bad about her elbow. Which was just stupid, because he’d been yanking her out of the path of stray bullets and flying glass. Which, if she really considered it – something she’d been trying to avoid – had chipped her ego along with her elbow. She was the cop, damn it. Childish as hell, but there it was. It wasn’t like –

  “You rat,” she said as she lifted the lid. A sling sneered back at her. “What, they were all out of fruitcake?”

  Glancing up, she met steady gray eyes over sparkly tissue. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Justin –”

  “You wear it like this.” Sitting his newly acquired eggnog aside, Justin leaned over her to fit the sling around her arm. He smelled clean, freshly showered, and reeked of satisfaction.

  “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” she said as he gently manipulated her arm.

  “Well, a man has to be, to outwit you. There.” He stepped back, surveyed his work. “Keep it on as much as possible for the next few days. It should help counteract the swelling. You’ve been applying an ice pack?”