The Hunt Club

"Okay," Hunt said, his heart tightening in his chest. For an instant, he considered telling her that it didn't matter. People weren't perfect; everybody made mistakes. It wasn't his place to judge her. What hurt him now was that she felt she had to lie to him, that perhaps it was okay, even noble, to lie to him if it would keep his vision of her intact.

As though he had ever wanted the vision.

He'd wanted the person.

And now that person irrevocably was someone who could look him in the eye and not tell him the truth. Because though he might never be able to prove if she had had her rumored affair with Judge Palmer, he knew that her denying it now with these rehearsed lines was a lie. And now suddenly what might have been had become what never could be.

She was going on. "Gary said that even a hint of that suspicion, any sign at all, and Jim Pine would fire the whole firm. All of our work for them would be suspect, subject to appeal or lawsuits, worthless." She drew a breath. "Anyway, I don't know if there's any more law work for me in this town anymore. For what it's worth, Gary seemed to recognize that. The severance package was pretty good."

Hunt forced another smile. "So it's all worked out?"

"Yes, except for…" She paused. "Well, that you and I never really had a chance to…"

Gently, he raised a hand and pressed two fingers against her lips. "Don't worry about you and me," he said. "You're a star, Andrea. Go be a star."

She nodded, sighed, smiled up at him. "I knew you'd understand, Wyatt."

"I do. Completely." One last attempt at a smile. "So when are you going?"

"Can you believe it? They want me Monday. I fly out tomorrow."

Hunt was sitting on the cooler in the alley, hands around a plastic cup full of beer as Co

"You can take an hour if you want, although Devin might be upset."

"No. He likes me to spend time with other guys. He says it always makes him look so much better by comparison."

Hunt had to grin. "He's one of a kind, all right."

"He's not all wrong, not most of the time, anyway."

Hunt put an arm around her. "If you're flirting with me, you've got a half an hour to cut it out."

"I'll time it," she said. Looking back over her shoulder, making sure they were out of earshot, she said, "I just want to tell you, seriously, how grateful I am-we all are-to you. And how proud."

He turned to look at her. "What for?"

"Well, maybe it slipped your mind in the crush of events, Wyatt, but while you were getting all the fame and glory for finding Andrea Parisi, the important thing to me is that you also saved my man's life. He knows you did, too."

"I didn't-"

"Don't go all modest on me, Wyatt. It's unbecoming. You saved his life. You saved all their lives. I will never be able to thank you enough, nor will the kids, and they don't even have any kind of real understanding of it yet."

"Not being modest, Con, but it was really just circumstances. It could have gone another way, and he would have saved me. I mean, he's not the cop of the year for nothing."

"No. I know that. But he also wouldn't be the cop of the year if something hadn't got him back into being who he is."

"I think that might have been a little bit you, too."

She nodded. "Acknowledged, but you lit the fire under him. You made it happen. I think you saved more than his life, Wyatt. You brought him back to who he is."

"Well, he's a great guy."

"Yes, and he always has been, although sometimes he forgets it. But when he does, he's got me to remind him. You. I don't think you get reminded often enough that you're pretty special yourself. So I thought I'd take a minute and tell you." She put her hand on his arm. "Do you hear me?"

Hunt let out a breath. "I hear you. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Co

"Who?"

"'Who?' he asks. The famous Andrea Parisi? Perhaps your girlfriend, not that I'm asking."

Hunt tried to keep it light. "She had to leave. She got a new job in New York and starts on Monday."

"In New York. But what about you?"

"What about me? I'm fine."

"You're not. You liked her. You liked her a lot."

But he shook his head. "I never really knew her, Con, except that she was beautiful and smart and fun and nice."

"Well, my friend, that doesn't sound all bad. Some people, they look for those things in people they date."

"They're good qualities, I admit, as far as they go."

"But they don't go far enough? Is that it?"

Hunt considered for a second. "That's a nice way to put it," he said. As he turned to Co

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My first and most important acknowledgment is to my mate, friend, partner, and muse, Lisa Sawyer. Without a solid and happy home front, nothing creative is possible for me, and Lisa's strength, good sense, and fundamental joy in life makes her the best lifelong companion imaginable. Contributing mightily to our domestic tranquility as well as to the tone of these books, our son Jack Sawyer Lescroart remains constant in his role as best pal, jokester, plot checker, general all-around mensch.

Also close to home, my longtime collaborator Al Gia

Over the past several years, my Internet correspondence has assumed an important role in helping me communicate directly with my readers, some of whom have recommended concepts that might be fun to explore. Before I even began to think about The Hunt Club, one of my correspondents, Joe Phelan, recommended that I take a look at the California Correctional Peace Officers Association (the CCPOA), or prison guards' union. That suggestion came to play a central role in this book, and I'm grateful to Joe for all of his references. That said, I reiterate that though the CCPOA material in the book is based on actual facts and occurrences, this is a work of fiction, and I took substantial liberties with both the organizational structure and leadership of the union. (I love hearing from my readers and can be contacted through my Web site, www.johnlescroart.com.)

For technical advice on various topics, I'd like to thank San Francisco Police Officer Shawn Ryan for the chilling details of his own firefight; my friend Peter J. Diedrich, Esq., for the odd, obscure legal nugget that helps to season this narrative; and Frank Seidl for his wide-ranging knowledge of Napa County and the wine industry, which much to my delight I've finally had an opportunity to exploit. Karen Hlavacek is an incredible proofreader whom I can't thank enough.