His brother Mike Jr. was just like his father–quick to judge, slow to forgive–and he saw everything in black and white, no shades of gray.
And him? He was a cop.
When Mack had passed on the scholarship and it went to Pete Nash, Mack was glad. Mack had secretly taken the Civil Service test for the Sheriff’s Department, had passed it, and was accepted at the regional police academy. One of his favorite instructors was none other than Marty Crowley. He soaked in Crowley’s every word. Crowley was his mentor, his idol, and eventually his friend. It was Crowley who encouraged him to go to night school. It was a long process while working full time, but currently, Mack was only four classes away from his Bachelor’s Degree in Criminal Justice.
His father was madder than hell when Mack passed on the four year ride to Syracuse University. He’d wanted him to go into corporate law, the same as Mike Jr. His mother just took him aside, away from his father’s earshot, and wished him well.
Mack didn’t regret his decision. The excitement of the job pumped him up. It didn’t matter if he was putting the pieces together of the latest homicide or was the lead man on a drug raid. Each day was different.
Mack had put everything into his job. He wanted to show his father and everyone who questioned him that he was the best cop Rose Lake had ever seen.
It didn’t leave much room for a social life, but he hadn’t had time to be lonely, he was living his job twenty-four hours a day. Up until the time he was sentenced to Kate's program, he never realized how lonely he actually was.
Damn, he enjoyed her company.
But he had nothing to offer Kate. He wasn't even a cop anymore. His badge was gone and so was his service revolver. All he had left from his house was the little .38 he carried at the small of his back–the gun which was now stashed under Kate's couch.
With another loud snore, Kate snuggled closer to him. Mack adjusted his slip–which had gotten too tight when her breasts touched his side. He kissed Kate's forehead, and fell asleep with his arm around her.
#
Kate set the mug of coffee down on the end table next to Mack. Mack sniffed the air before he buried his head deeper into the pillow.
It was nine in the morning and she’d been up for two hours, and most of those two hours were spent watching Mack sleep.
He was fascinating when he slept. Almost as fascinating as when he was awake. He mumbled, mostly repeating "who?", with his face reflecting deep angst instead of deep sleep.
Mack was an enigma. It seemed like the loss of his house, his car, and his meager possessions didn't even worry him. But she knew that it was very important for him to clear his name and find out who had set him up, and she knew that Mack would rather die than be confined in state prison.
But he wasn't going to die, not if she had anything to do with it. She very much enjoyed having him around.
Not being able to resist, she pushed his brownish-red hair back from his face. It was soft and mostly straight with a hint of wave. He needed a haircut, but obviously he had other things on his mind.
She thought of the house that she wanted to buy on Rose Lake and pictured living there with Mack. They'd take long walks on the beach together and talk for hours. Mack would confide in her and ask for her help.
Yeah, right. Well, she could dream, couldn't she?
Kate finally tore herself away from staring at Mack, took a shower, and dressed in tan shorts and a red tank top. Then she decided to raid Clancy's walk-in cooler. As always, she left the Clancys the money and a list of the things she took by the register.
This morning, she decided to make cheese and ham omelets for her and Mack. Everything was ready in a bowl in her small refrigerator. She'd start cooking on the hot plate when Mack got up.
She took his clothes out of the dryer, neatly folded them and stacked them on the counter in the bathroom. One pair of perfectly faded jeans, one orange extra-large tee shirt, one pair of white crew socks with a hole in the toe, and one pair of standard-issue, boring, white briefs.
She'd like to buy Mack some sexy underwear. He had the body and the...um...endowment for it. Maybe some black bikinis, satin maybe, or stretch.
She shook her head. Buying underwear for a man was such an intimate thing. It presumed that there was a relationship. And she didn't have that with Mack. Matter of fact, he'd said that he didn't want her around him, for her own protection, was what he’d said.
But he seemed to have changed his mind, pretty quick, about being in close proximity to her. He was alive and snoring on her sofa sleeper.
Thank goodness she didn't snore. It was such an awful sound.
A sudden blast from the phone made her jump. She hurried to catch it before it woke Mack.
"Your Home is Your Jail. Kate Kingston speaking."
"Kate? It's Pete Nash. I suppose you've heard what happened to Mack's house."
"Yes, I did, Pete. The entire state has heard by now."
"Where is he?"
Kate remembered her promise to Mack not to tell that he was alive, but certainly this didn't apply to Judge Peter Nash.
"Um..." She tried to think.
"The fire investigators have concluded that his body wasn't in the wreckage, so I was wondering if you knew where he was and if he's okay. I'm worried, Kate."
"Well..."
A hand covered her mouth. She was pulled tight against a hard chest. Her free hand grabbed onto satin material and she gave it a yank.
"Don't say a word, Kate," he whispered into her ear. "Please."
She nodded and he let her go. She shot him a scathing glance and put her hand over the speaker. "It's Pete. I have to tell him that you're with me and still on my program."
"No."
"It's important to me, Mack. You know that. I have to let him know that I have everything under control."
His face grew red, his knuckles white, and he was breathing heavy. "All you can think of is your program. Can't you see the big picture?" he snapped.
"I might be able to see the big picture if you'd tell me what the big picture is!"
He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "Do what you have to," he said walking toward the bathroom.
Kate heard voices and pounding on her door. She peeked out the corner of her curtain. Reporters and a camera crew. Darn! More were hurrying up the stairs.
Kate turned back to the phone, and tried to calm the sinking feeling in her stomach. No one could know that Mack was staying with her. Even though nothing had happened, it wouldn't look right. It wouldn't look professional. She'd be the joke of Rose Lake. Thank goodness, she had her curtains shut.
"Oh sorry, Pete. There are reporters at the door. I have to go. But in answer to your question, Mack is with me. Since he doesn't have a house, I'm going to take him to my father's fishing cabin for now. Yes, I’ll keep in touch. Good-bye."
She wracked her brain as to how to sneak Mack and herself out of her office. There was an old dumb waiter in the hallway. Mack could climb into it and escape through Clancy’s restaurant.
The pounding on the door continued, and Kate debated whether or not to answer it. If she answered it and talked to the reporters for a while, she could divert them as Mack snuck away.
Kate sat down at her desk and stared at the VV-98. It was just a computer, a machine, but it stood for independence and financial security and success. It stood for her own home on Rose Lake with a porch and a garden of perennials. It stood for permanence. It stood for a way for the poor to get out of jail when they couldn’t make bail.
Mack was dressed when he returned. She put an index finger to her lips and pointed outside. The pounding on the door was louder.
"Reporters," she whispered, as Mack started walking toward the window. "Wait! Don't go near the window. I don't want them to see you here in my apartment. I'd be ruined."
He grinned. "They'd all think you were a fallen woman, huh?" He pointed to the coffee mug on the table. "Was that for me?"
She
nodded.
"Thank you."
He walked over and took a couple of gulps as he put on his socks and sneakers. "Do you have a plan?"
"There's a dumbwaiter in the hall that goes to the restaurant downstairs. You can sneak out, and I'll divert them. I'll met up with you later at–"
"You're going to trust me?"
"I have no choice."
"Where are we going?"
"I informed Judge Nash that you will be staying at my father's fishing cabin."
"Dammit! Why did you tell him where we were going?"
"Because he's a judge, and he has your case until Judge Clark gets back. And he's our friend." Puzzled, Kate couldn't understand his over-reaction. Then it dawned on her. "Mack, do you suspect Pete of something?"
"I suspect everyone." His eyes were unforgiving, but as the pounding on the door increased, he softened and the twinkle returned to his eyes. "I'd better get the hell out of here before you tell those reporters out there that I wear women’s slips."
Kate smiled. The Mack she knew was back.
"Look, Kate. You have to do something for me and I really can't take no for an answer. I'll use the dumbwaiter and sneak out of here. You stall the reporters for a while and give me some time to disappear. I want to make sure–." He held a hand up just as she was ready to interrupt him. "That no one sees us going to the cabin, so I'm going to ask you to take a convoluted route. I'll meet you behind the donut place on the corner of Stanton and Pearl by the dumpster out back. I'll be waiting when you get there. I promise."
Kate warred with herself. It went against her better judgment to let him out of her sight, but there were no other alternatives.
But she still had the drive-by, and he still had the monitor on.
Their eyes locked and Kate knew that Mack could be well on his way to Mexico by now, if it weren't for the fact that he was such a good cop and wanted to clear his name. No. It was more than that. He was an honorable man, and he wasn't going to run away from trouble.
"Okay, Mack. I'm going to trust you. Be at the dumpster in about a half hour, and don't let me down."
He raised an eyebrow. "Moi?"
#
After Kate picked him up, they arrived at the cabin in about two hours. It was probably a twenty-minute drive, but he led Kate all around town to make sure they weren't being followed. As far as he could tell, they weren't.
As Kate was unlocking the door, he walked around the perimeter of the cabin and verified what he already figured. He'd still be a sitting duck here, but at least he could disappear into the woods.
Normally, he wouldn't care. He'd just set a trap for whoever was trying to kill him, and he'd use himself as bait, but he couldn't do that now. Not with Kate around.
It was a perfect honeymoon cabin, and heaven knew that he'd love to spend an eternity with Kate right here. There were no houses around, just a field planted with corn and a barn off in the distance. He knew that Rose Lake was through the path in the woods, about a half-mile away. He could hear gulls in the distance.
He didn't have to wonder why Kate's father built so far away from the lake. There had been nothing for sale on the water in years. And the cost would be formidable for any property not inherited or bought years ago.
Mack smiled. He liked the lake, too, and liked to fish, even though he didn't have the time to do it much. He promised himself that when he got out of this mess, he'd take a nice, long fishing vacation.
"Other than the evidence of a couple of mice, it's fit for company," Kate said, speaking out an open window.
Mack liked the place as soon as he walked in. It was rustic and comfortable. A family camp.
"There are some things of my father's packed away in big plastic bins. Mom never got around to donating everything. If you'd like, you can help yourself to whatever you need. You’re about his size."
"Thanks," he said, looking around.
Bright Indian blankets hung from a railing overhead, which he assumed was a sleeping loft. He could see skylights in the loft, and thought about how nice it would be to lie there with Kate and watch the stars twinkling overhead.
That was a nice dream. However, the reality was that he was going to send her on her way as soon as possible. “Your mother doesn't use it?"
"Only in the summer when she's up from Florida. She says that the place has too many memories for her, since my father died. He’d built it for his retirement and wanted to live here during the summer and then Florida for the winter."
"Do you come here often?"
"Not as much as I'd like to. In case you haven't noticed, I've been pretty busy with my program lately. One of my clients is being a real pain."
He grinned, studying a watercolor of a trout by the door.
Mack felt right at home in the cozy cabin. There was a galley kitchen to the left and a stone fireplace in the middle of an outside wall. Fishing gear hung from two racks by the doorway and a battered dark green tackle box was underneath.
"That's my father's gear. It's just the way it was when he died," Kate said quietly.
"I won't touch it."
"That's not what I meant, Mack. It's just that the cottage wouldn't be the same without it. My father was never around much because he was in the service, so the time we spent fishing together was precious."
"I'll take you fishing someday, if you'd like."
Kate looked at him, her mouth gaping, but she didn't answer. He couldn't tell what she was thinking.
Mack winked to break the tension. "I'll bait your hook if that's the problem."
She laughed. "That's not it. I was just thinking...oh, never mind. It's nothing."
She was still smiling, and he was intrigued.
"Tell me for heaven's sake!"
"It'll just go to your head."
"Tell me anyway," he urged. "I could use some flattery."
"I was thinking that back in high school, I would have given anything if you had asked me out on a date. Even a fishing date." She shrugged. "Silly, huh?"
That floored him. Kate Kingston wanted to go out with him in high school? Him?
"You mean to tell me that the brainiest, most serious, prettiest girl in Rose Lake High would have gone out with an egomaniacal jock like John Mackowitz?"
"In a split second." She met his gaze. "You were so nice to me.”
“I can remember the first day we talked.” He smiled. “I was jogging along Lakeshore Drive and I saw something shiny. When I went to investigate, I saw that it was your bike. I found you crying your eyes out.”
“We had just buried my father that morning, and I was feeling guilty because I kept wishing that I would never have to leave Rose Lake and go to another Army base. And I got my wish.”
Tears flooded her eyes, and he wished he hadn't brought it up.
“You were so nice to me that day, Mack. And you kept being nice to me, when no one else would talk to me.”
“I think that your black outfits scared everyone away.” He chuckled.
She laughed. “How did I know that Rose Lake was a preppy sweaters and khakis school? Goth and black biker clothes were what everyone was wearing at my previous school.”
“You always looked so serious and lonely.”
“I was. But I was the new girl in senior year. You all knew each other. The cliques were formed years ago, and I was an outsider. When you started talking to me, everyone started to accept me. And I had a great year.”
He pulled her close and hugged her. She looked like she needed a hug. And he wanted to hold her, to feel her in his arms.
After a while, she pushed back, and her gaze met his. There were unasked questions in her eyes, questions he wouldn’t answer. Not yet anyway. He shouldn't let himself get this close to her, but he couldn't stand to see the sadness in her eyes.
His mouth crushed down on hers, and she moaned. Her fingers moved through his hair, then clutched his biceps. He deepened the kiss, and her mouth opened for him. His tongue met hers in a rhythmic dance,
and he pressed her against his hardness.
He wanted her.
But he had to get rid of her. Even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. He tore his lips from hers and took a step back.
“Kate, you have to leave. I appreciate the use of your cabin, but please get in your Blazer and drive away.”
“What?” Her eyes were as wide as saucers. "I'm staying right here with you. There are two bedrooms in the loft."
"I'm not talking about the bedrooms, dammit. You're not staying here, and that's final."
Kate's hands were on her hips and she leaned forward. "I have to stay here, Mack. It's out of range of the VV-98. The drive-by will work here, however."
"Well, then drive by if you have to, but there's no way you're staying here with me."
"Gee, I'm flattered," she snapped. "First, you ask me out on a date, and get all sentimental about high school, then you kiss me. Then you can't wait to get rid of me."
"Sentimental? I've been accused of being a lot of things, but sentimental sure wasn't one of them."
"Don't change the subject, Mack. I'm staying here."
His fists tightened into white knots. "Look, I don't want to fight with you again, I just want you gone. Get away from me."
She looked as if he had just knifed her. Her face turned red and tears sprang immediately to her eyes.
"What the hell did I say?" he asked.
No answer.
"Kate, talk to me."
When she turned back, her eyes were dry. He could tell by her stance that she was bracing for a counter attack.
"You’ve made it perfectly clear that you do not want me around you. I'm sorry that you feel that way. And frankly I don't understand you. But let me remind you that we have a business arrangement, and what I say goes. Is that clear?"
"Crystal."
"Fine. Then I'm staying."
Then it dawned on him where the miscommunication was. He took a seat on the couch and motioned for her to sit down opposite him. She didn't budge. That amused him. She was one stubborn woman.
"I think we need to talk," he said. "I'm not one for talking, but I'm going to try it."
Stuck On You Page 10
