Belonging Read Free

someone over to the other side of the
fence. He perched on the edge of Margie's desk and smiled at
her.
    Margie stopped her busywork and looked at him
as if he were an annoying speck of dust on her desktop.
    "Have you worked here long, Margie?" he
inquired congenially.
    "Over thirty years, sir."
    The reply was brief, even terse, but he
detected a hint of wariness in the tilt of her chin as she looked
up at him. "That's quite a while," he observed. "All that time for
the police department?"
    She nodded, but this time there was a flash
of pride in her eyes.
    He whistled. "You and Chief Nelson must have
gone back a ways."
    Again she nodded. Ah, Matt thought. It was
probably loyalty to Sam Nelson that prompted her leeriness of him.
Well, that was understandable. She probably considered him an
outsider.
    "You know, Margie," he remarked
conversationally, "that I'm from Chicago."
    "I'm well aware of that, sir!"
    Matt ignored her waspish tone and gave an
encompassing glance around the office. "To tell you the truth,
things were a lot different there. The people were different," he
mused in a deliberately casual tone. "There were a lot of times
when you had to watch out for yourself because no one else would do
it for you." He noticed from the corner of his eye that she was
listening intently.
    Margie's head bobbed up and down in
agreement. "I had a friend who moved to Chicago years ago. I went
to visit her once." She sniffed disdainfully. "I've never seen a
more uppity bunch of people in my life!"
    Uppity? Matt had to resist the urge to laugh.
At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor. Not only was his own
private version of "uppity" sitting right in front of him, the name
Angela Hall came immediately to mind, as well.
    "You know, you're right," he agreed. "Why, in
the week I've been here, I've wished more than once I'd moved here
years ago." He flashed his most disarming smile. "To tell you the
truth, Margie, I could use a friend. What do you say you show me
around the department, and then the two of us can go to
lunch?"
    "Lunch?" She looked astonished at the
suggestion.
    Matt shrugged. "Why not? I imagine it'll be
close to noon by the time we're finished. And I can't think of
anyone more qualified than you to show me the ropes."
    Margie's look of surprise changed to one of
beaming pleasure. "Why, thank you." She flashed the first genuine
smile he'd seen. "I think I'd like that. But, Chief—" she waved a
finger insistently "—only if we go Dutch."
    Having come this far, Matt wasn't about to
argue- especially since he'd progressed from "sir" to "Chief." He
liked the sound of it too much. Though he'd never considered
himself the least bit chauvinistic—he wouldn't have accepted a job
working for a woman if he was—he hadn't pegged Margie for the
women's-lib type. But at least she wasn't immune to a little old
fashioned male charm.
    He was reminded of his meeting with Mayor
Angela Hall that afternoon. One down, one to go, he couldn't help
thinking. Would the same tactic work with her? At the thought a wry
smile curved his lips.
    Where Angela Hall was concerned, he had the
feeling it wouldn't hurt to sharpen his ax.
     

CHAPTER TWO

    As much as he wished he could blithely brush
aside the incident that morning, Matt experienced a twinge of
annoyance every time he recalled that he hadn't been the number one
choice for police chief. He knew it was his pride chafing. He also
knew that he wasn't going to feel a damn bit better until he'd
gotten the whole issue off his chest once and for all.
    So it was that there was a certain tension in
the air as Matt entered Angie's office early that afternoon. The
steely eyes that rested on her were keen, a little too penetrating
for her peace of mind. Angie couldn't help but be aware of them as
she rounded her desk to clasp Matt's hand in a brief handshake, a
move she made graciously if reluctantly.
    Their fingers merely brushed; she
deliberately made the contact minimal. Yet it was oddly