A Man Apart. Ginna Gray

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 she had changed all right. The woman he remembered had been reserved and perfectly groomed at all times, her makeup flawless. She’d dressed in tailored suits, wore her hair pulled severely back in a chignon and exuded an air of cool professionalism. Now she stood before him in ragged cutoffs, a form-fitting T-shirt, her hair a cloud of unruly curls, and apparently not wearing a speck of makeup. There was even a splattering of freckles across her nose, for Pete’s sake.

      “Yes. Although, my name is actually Edwards. Dr. Maude Ann Edwards to be exact. I kept my maiden name for professional reasons. And just so you know, Detective, I prefer the term psychiatrist to shrink.”

      “Just what the hell are you doing here, Dr. Edwards?”

      She looked taken aback, whether by the question or his curt tone he neither knew nor cared. He just wanted an answer. Then he wanted her gone. He had avoided her when she worked at the precinct. He sure as hell didn’t want her around now.

      “Why, I live here. Didn’t Lieutenant Werner tell you?”

      “You live here? No, he didn’t tell me,” Matt ground out through clenched teeth. “Somehow he neglected to mention that particular piece of information. He just told me he had one tenant. I assumed it was a summer fisherman. That son of a—”

      “Detective Dolan, please. I must ask that you refrain from cursing in front of the children.” Noticing that the kids hadn’t moved, she shooed them toward the door. “Go on in and wash those berries like I told you. Jane will be back from the store soon. If the berries aren’t ready, she won’t be able to make that cobbler you want for dessert. So get. All of you.”

      The departure of the younger children sounded like a herd of wild mustangs clattering across the wooden porch. Amid shouts and squeals and a round of pushing and shoving to see who could be first, and the repeated squeak and bang of the front door, they disappeared into the lodge. A few of the older children, however, were reluctant to leave, They dragged their feet, looking balefully at Matt as they shuffled inside.

      When the last straggler disappeared through the door, Maude Ann turned her attention back to Matt.

      “Actually, to be fair, Lieutenant Werner didn’t lie to you, Detective. I am the only tenant at the lodge.”

      “Why are you here?” She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up his hand and stopped her. “No, don’t bother. It’s obvious. Well, you can tell the lieutenant that I don’t need anyone to play nursemaid, and I sure as hell don’t need a shrink. So this little scheme of his was a waste of time.”

      Laughter twinkled in Maude Ann’s whiskey-colored eyes. “My, my, what an ego you have, Dolan. Funny, I worked with you for two years and I never realized that. It so happens that my being here has nothing whatever to do with you. I leased the lodge from the lieutenant to house the foster home I established for abused and neglected children who have been taken away from their parents or guardians. I call it Henley Haven, in honor of my late husband.”

      “A foster home? You mean, that mob of kids lives here?”

      “Yes. And they’re hardly a mob. There are only seven children here at the moment. Henley Haven can accommodate ten easily. A dozen in an emergency. But whatever the number, the children keep me much too busy to have time to spend on you. Actually, it should relieve your mind to know that I no longer see patients. I prefer to use my training and experience helping these children adjust and heal, so you needn’t worry that I’ll be analyzing you.”

      “You’re not going to get the chance, lady.”

      “Good. I’m glad that’s settled. When the lieutenant called he merely asked if I would mind if you stayed in his quarters while you recuperated and drive you into Houston for your checkups. I go into Houston regularly anyway, and since he’s giving me a good deal on this place, I couldn’t very well refuse. Besides, his room isn’t part of my lease agreement. That’s always kept ready for him when he visits, so you’re not putting anyone out.

      “I did agree that you could eat with us. Jane and I must cook for the children, anyway, so even that isn’t an imposition. I assure you, meals, housekeeping and an occasional ride into town are all the help you’ll receive from me.”

      “I won’t be needing those, either,” he snapped. “Dammit, I only agreed to come out here to soak up some sunshine and peace and quiet. Instead, what do I find? A lady shrink and a bunch of rug rats.”

      “Hey, pig, who you calling a rat?”

      “Tyrone!” Maude Ann admonished as a small black boy charged out onto the porch.

      The door banged shut as he stepped between Matt and Maude Ann. Assuming a challenging stance that was comical in a youngster, he glared at Matt and thrust out his chin.

      Surprise shot through Matt. He recognized the kid instantly. Tyrone Washington was the child of a female junkie from the section of Houston known as Denver Harbor.

      Only seven, the kid was already headed for trouble. Most of the time his mother was stoned out of her mind, and Tyrone ran virtually wild through the slum neighborhood. The kid had a mouth on him like a longshoreman’s and an eye for larceny. Tyrone might be only seven, but in the ways of the world he was about forty-five.

      Matt looked the kid up and down and returned his glare with a cynical half smile. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Tyrone Washington. The Denver Harbor tough guy.”

      “That’s right, pig, an’ there ain’t nothin’ you kin do ’bout it, so kiss my a—”

      “Tyrone!” Maude Ann admonished again. “You’re to watch your language, young man. Furthermore, you are not to call Detective Dolan by that derogatory name. Do you understand?”

      The boy looked back at her over his shoulder. “Daroga what? Whazzat mean?”

      “Derogatory. It means insulting and degrading. You’re new, but you’ve been here long enough to know that we don’t treat people that way.”

      A perplexed frown wrinkled Tyrone’s forehead. “Not even stinkin’ cops?”

      “No. Especially not cops. Remember I told you my husband was a policeman and a wonderful man. Now apologize.”

      Tyrone’s face turned mulish. “I ain’t gonna ’pologize to no—”

      “Tyrone, either apologize or you stay here with Jane tomorrow while the rest of us go to the movies. The choice is yours.”

      “Ah, Miz Maudie—”

      “You heard me, Tyrone.”

      “Look, can we drop this?” Matt snapped. “I don’t care if the little punk apologizes or not.”

      “Mr. Dolan! I said no name calling. The rules I’ve given the children apply to everyone who stays here.”

      “Then we don’t have a problem, because I’m not staying.”

      “That is entirely up to you, Detective,” she replied with a pleasant smile. “I have no feelings on the matter one way or another, I assure you.”

      “Fine, then you won’t mind if I call the lieutenant and tell him to send someone to pick me up, will you,” he snapped back.

      “Not at all. There’s a telephone in your room.”

      Matt gave her a curt nod. Leaning on his cane, he gritted his teeth and turned to leave.

      “Humph. Good riddance,” Tyrone muttered, but this time Maude Ann was too distracted to correct him.

      She bit her lower lip and watched Matt Dolan limp away. She recalled how he used to look, striding around the station house, often without his suit