A Man of Honor (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Barrett, Linda

  “But,” continued Kathy, putting her arm around Heather, “you did the right thing. We can’t let one man, even if he is a cop, prevent us from doing our job and helping his wife. And besides, Houston is a big city….”

  “We’ve got security,” added Heather. “If he does find us, he won’t get in.”

  “Right,” said Kathy, taking the file folders. “Now I’ll go meet the group, while you get our new family.”

  THE BUS ARRIVED ten minutes after Heather did. She spotted Welcome Home’s clients immediately by the bulging backpacks on the kids, the stuffed tote bag on the mother’s arm. The sum total of their lives. She walked toward them quickly, knowing the woman would feel better the sooner she was out of sight.

  “I’m Heather Marshall. Are you the person I spoke with earlier?”

  Dark glasses hid the woman’s eyes, but she nodded. “Mary Beth Landers,” she whispered.

  Heather led them the few feet to the van, chatting to the children. “In you go,” she urged, sliding the door open. “Buckle yourselves into a seat while I help Mom.” She turned toward Mary Beth. “Let’s put the tote in the van first and then get you in.”

  Mary Beth nodded.

  “Grab the bar and step up on your good leg…that’s it.” The woman slowly maneuvered herself into the passenger seat. Heather saw tears trickling down Mary Beth’s cheeks, but whether they were from physical pain or emotional release, she couldn’t tell. “We’ll get you some medical attention today if possible,” said Heather as she put the van in motion. “As soon as you settle in.”

  “Settle in?”

  “That’s right. You can stay for as long as you need to.”

  “But you don’t understand. I…we…can’t stay in Houston. He’ll find us. They’ll find us. The police. They all stick together. Every cop is his friend. Oh, my God. I can’t believe what’s happening to us.” She turned and reached a hand toward her children, and her tears flowed in force. The little girl started to sob, then her brother joined in.

  Oh, dear. This wasn’t going to be easy. Despite Heather’s initial confidence, she now realized that they may have gotten into a predicament they had no experience in handling. She passed around a box of tissues as she continued driving. North. West. And a few blocks north again until she pulled into the shelter’s driveway.

  “Okay, everyone. Take a look outside at where you’ll be staying. See the fence, kids? No one gets in without permission. Just watch.”

  Heather went through the admission procedure with Security, glanced at her passengers’ expressions when they saw how the gate had to mechanically slide open. “See. Only the guard inside can open it.”

  The boy shook his head. “My dad’s big.” He raised his arms to the roof of the van. “He can climb over.”

  “No one ever has,” said Heather. “And no one—not one single person—has ever gotten inside unless we wanted him to.”

  The boy had stopped crying by then, and Heather continued to chat to the children, knowing full well that their mom was listening to every word. She pointed out the surveillance cameras, the ten-foot fences. She turned right after the entrance and drove around to the back door where the kids could see the playground equipment and picnic tables.

  “Ooh, Mommy. This is nice.” Megan seemed to be distracted easily enough. At least for now.

  “There are some other children living here, too,” said Heather.

  “My age?” asked the boy, whose name, Heather had learned, was Neil.

  “I believe so. But not as tall as you, buddy.”

  The kid grinned, and Heather had to chuckle. Too bad size had nothing to do with a man’s worth.

  “We’re going to get you settled into your own private apartment. We have forty units here,” said Heather, leading the family inside.

  There were a score of things to do for these people, and she needed to assign a case manager. The special circumstances might put a staff member at risk—not that any one of them would refuse to work with the new residents. Regardless, Heather would take on the new family herself.

  An hour later, she let Kathy know. They were lunching in her sister’s office.

  “I figured you would,” Kathy said, before biting into her sandwich.

  “Amazing,” replied Heather. “I didn’t know it myself until after I met them.”

  Kathy smiled. “You always take the hardest ones. Do you think we should get McCoy involved on the q.t.? He might be able to keep tabs on the husband for us.”

  Heather dropped the orange she’d just peeled. “Not on your life. Mary Beth is terrified of the entire police department. I can’t make an exception and I won’t lie to her. Besides, we don’t know how McCoy would react. He’s part of that fraternity, too.”

  “I think you underestimate him, Heather. He’s been a friend to Welcome Home from the beginning.”

  “Oh, please,” said Heather, separating her orange into sections. “It’s easy to be a ‘friend’ when your own friends aren’t involved. He’s had nothing at stake in the past. Welcome Home is merely in his territory, part of his job.”

  Kathy’s forehead puckered as she balled up her napkin and threw it in the trash. “Well, I was very glad he helped you last night, and I believe he’d do his job now, too. But you’re in charge of the Landers case, and it’s your call. If you change your mind, let me know immediately.”

  “I won’t. I don’t trust any cop, including McCoy.” She grinned at her sister, then popped an orange section into her mouth, content with her morning.

  Kathy stared at her. “Don’t let Dry Creek ruin your judgment. Dad certainly wasn’t a role model for law enforcement.”

  “Heck, Kathy. He wasn’t a role model for humanity.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Would it surprise you to know alcoholism runs rampant in police departments? So does divorce. And then there’s the control—”

  “New topic,” said Kathy, “before we’re buried in our own work again.”

  Heather grudgingly nodded.

  “The van’s off limits,” said Kathy. “Gene looked at it early this morning. It’s a money pit.” Thank God their facilities manager knew a lot about cars.

  “I have classes tonight,” Heather began, “but I’m scheduled to make my rounds tomorrow night. I guess I’ll take my car. Problem solved until Sara raises lots of money for us.”

  “Your car?” Kathy shook her head. “You’d better take mine….”

  Her sister was the best. Kathy’s car was newer, bigger. “Thanks. Thanks a lot. I’ll be able to haul more stuff with yours.”

  “And in return for the favor,” said Kathy, her tone capturing Heather’s full attention, “you’ll go dress shopping with me this Saturday. You, my maid of honor, have still not bought a dress.” Kathy’s eyes sparkled with mischief as Heather groaned. A real waste of time for an off-the-rack kind of girl.

  THE TYPE-A’S WERE already in the briefing room that afternoon by the time Dave arrived with fifteen minutes to spare before roll call. He made his way to the phone to check his voice mail before grabbing one of the old plastic chairs in the cluttered room. Sitting, he got ready to jot notes on his clipboard about anything pertinent to his upcoming watch.

  Then he waited for the rest of the shift to show up. They’d have a thirty-minute meeting, get car assignments—and he’d be on his way.

  “Hey, McCoy.”

  “Hey, Yorkie.” Eve Hannity, born and raised in the Bronx until she was ten years old and moved to Texas, still carried her New York inflection. Everyone called her Yorkie. As she said, “It could’ve been worse. How about terrier?” She was a good cop and a good friend.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  She nodded at the podium. “He’s announcing the sergeant’s exam today. I’m gonna crack the books. You?”

  He’d known the announcement was due, but hadn’t thought about it lately. A promotion would take him off the streets a lot. And he liked the streets. But the pay was a lot better and… And what th
e hell was he thinking? Of course, he wanted a promotion. A career path. Just like his dad, who’d retired as a lieutenant from the same department.

  “If you’re setting up a couple of study sessions, Yorkie, I’m in.”

  She high-fived him. “One more thing.” She faced the room at large. “Hey, everybody. Listen up. Larry and I are throwing a little barbecue this Saturday night. For those of you who aren’t working, come on over. My sister’s visiting—maybe relocating—and she’s single, guys. And cute, if I do say so myself.”

  She turned back to Dave. “You’ll like her. And what’s more. She’ll like you.”

  Drops of sweat broke out on his lip. “Stop right there. I’m not looking—”

  “And neither is she. You can relax. Lisa just wants to have a good time with nice people. Have some fun. I’m not trading in my badge for a matchmaking license.”

  He breathed a bit easier. But not much.

  “You must be hard up for friends, if all you can come up with is a bunch of cops to invite.”

  “Watch it, McCoy. You’re talking about my other family here,” replied Yorkie with a grin.

  Sergeant Novak went to the podium and the chatter and shuffling in the room stopped almost instantly. Now Dave and the shift would hear about internal memos and learn the latest from the streets before they went out on patrol.

  Yorkie had called it. The sergeant exam was announced and a quiet buzz filled the air. Yorkie’s party would be the scene for setting up a study group and schedule.

  “Listen up, you guys and gals. Here goes.” The sergeant read the list of restraining orders, stolen vehicles, stolen guns while Dave and the others took notes. “And the final item we have relates to last night’s incident on the Katy Freeway.”

  Every eye was on Novak. The silence pounded in Dave’s ears.

  “Six of you responded to the call, a female adult citizen. The situation also involved two female minors and three adult male perpetrators, who are now in jail. However, we have reason to believe four perps were involved. Not three.”

  McCoy’s gut tightened. Could he have missed a suspect last night? Was he so distracted that he lost focus?

  “The youths told Officer Powers four men lived in the apartment where they stayed over the weekend and that all four had gone to the strip mall,” continued the sergeant. “The suspect who was injured by the citizen has made a lot of noise about his brother seeking revenge for the arrests. He’s also cursing the woman.”

  “She sure got him where it hurts,” someone murmured.

  Novak paused and looked out over the group. “The suspect has a hot temper and could just be blowing hot air, but we believe there’s a new drug operation in town, ladies and gents, and their goal is to move the junk. Part of a larger cartel. These guys are young, however, and they’ve already made mistakes. Let’s weed them out before they take root.”

  Dave was all for that.

  “And McCoy?”

  “Sergeant?”

  “Even though the three perps aren’t going anywhere for a while, despite their lawyers clamoring for bail…I want the citizen advised about the threat. I’m assigning an additional patrol to your area until further notice.” He looked at Eve. “Get with McCoy afterward and split the beat.”

  He looked at his notes. “And McCoy, you contact…Ms. Heather Marshall. Advise her to use extra caution until we find out more about the brother.”

  Dave nodded. With this new information, there was an outside chance she’d listen to him.

  HEATHER’S OFFICE PHONE rang at four-thirty just as she was preparing to leave for class.

  “I’ve got Officer McCoy out front here,” said Trish. “He’s asked to see you.”

  She wasn’t in the mood for a lecture about her van, or about last night. She’d give him one minute. “Be right out.”

  She straightened her desk, gathered her purse and closed her door behind her. “See ya later, Kath,” she called to her sister as she headed to the front. She opened the door to the reception area, and there stood Officer Dave McCoy as she’d never seen him before. Laughing and relaxed with his head thrown back, he was joking with Trish, who was almost old enough to be his mother.

  Maybe it was the related occupation that gave them common ground. Whatever it was, Heather had to admit the man was attractive when he smiled.

  “What can I do for you, Officer? And if you want to change my mind, forget it. I’m not filing charges against the creeps.”

  His smile disappeared, but when Dave looked at Trish, he winked. “Is she always grumpy? Or is it me?”

  “Not for me to say,” replied the guard, her wide grin bright against her bronze complexion.

  “Smart lady,” said Heather as she studied the big cop. This casual behavior was not typical of Dave. He definitely wanted something from her. “I’ve got a class at the university in forty-five minutes. What’s on your mind?”

  He nodded at the exit. “Outside.”

  She went ahead of him through the door and down the two steps to the driveway. Then she turned to face him. And got a surprise. For a moment, he looked…uncertain. Worried. So not McCoy.

  “Just spill it, Officer McCoy,” she encouraged, as though speaking to a needy client.

  “We have reason to believe there was a fourth man last night at the scene,” he said quietly, not wasting any words. “We believe he’s the brother of the suspect you brought down. So, until we learn more, I suggest you take precautions. No going out in that broken-down vehicle. No going out alone, day or night. No…”

  She put up a hand. “Hold it. First, I don’t take orders from anyone, cops included. Second, I’m not running away. Or hiding. There’s only one way to take care of bullies, McCoy.” She leaned forward and poked him in the chest. “You stand up to them.”

  He nodded. “A bully, however, is not a bullet. How do you stand up to one of those? For all we know, the brother could have followed us back to your house last night. Now, I probably would have noticed someone tailing me, but—

  “And I trust your instincts, so we have no problem. Thanks for the warning. You did your job. And now, I’m off.” She took three more steps.

  “Not so fast.”

  Dave stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His unblinking stare got her attention. “I’m telling you plain, Ms. Marshall. If you go out again without a partner, I’ll have a conversation with the oil man.”

  He meant Mark, and she’d really hate for such a meeting to take place, but… “Do you think you can threaten me?” she asked, walking toward him. “Well, I won’t be bullied, either, McCoy, so stay out of my business. Stay away from my family.”

  “Not a chance. You’re a pain in my butt, but I’d rather see you alive than dead.” He leaned toward her and spoke softly and slowly. “People in drug cartels do not play around. It’s no game to them—it’s big business.”

  Heather heard her own heartbeat in the silence that followed, but Dave wasn’t finished. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Heather?”

  “Yeah, I understand. I’m just the sandwich lady on the street. I am absolutely no threat to these guys. I didn’t even press charges. You, however, did. So you’d better watch your own butt, Officer McCoy.” She began walking.

  “Our suspect cursed la rubia,” snapped McCoy, “the blonde. His pride took a hit, and now his emotion is clouding the business. His brother might act the same way. I don’t like it.”

  “You worry too much, McCoy.”

  He was in her rearview mirror until she reached the interstate, the edge of his territory.

  MARY BETH SHIFTED in bed and grimaced. No moaning allowed now that Neil and Megan were finally sleeping in their own beds after she’d carried them from hers. She would have let them stay with her the entire night, but the single bed couldn’t accommodate three. Especially when Mom kept searching for a comfortable position.

  She bit her lip to swallow another groan. She’d landed on her hip after Hank had thrown her agains
t the stair railing last night, and she’d fallen down the complete flight. She thanked God it hadn’t been worse. Hadn’t prevented her from finally taking action. Megan and Neil, the most beautiful people in her life, had seen everything.

  Tears welled out of her eyes as she lay on her back. She was a lousy mother. Children should be protected, not exposed to fear and ugliness. Oh, God, she should have taken the kids and left long ago before the abuse got worse. Before fear sucked the air from her lungs until she could barely breathe.

  Not that she hadn’t dreamed of escape. Even prepared all their documents, had them packed and ready to go at any time. They were now in plastic Ziploc bags in her big tote. Birth certificates. Social Security cards. Marriage license. No restraining order, though. She hadn’t had the guts. But she’d taken her journal. It wasn’t a legal document, but a record she’d kept for her own sanity. To prove she was somebody. A flesh-and-blood somebody. With thoughts and feelings. To provide evidence if something happened to her.

  After Hank left for work that morning, she knew the day had come. She didn’t tell anyone. Not her friends. Not her parents. She’d left her car—so easily traceable. And she’d finally made the phone call.

  Here they were at Welcome Home, safe for now in their own apartment on the second floor in the back. A full bathroom, two bedrooms and a living room. Tiny windows—locked, with curtains drawn. She’d been told that the first-floor units had no windows at all. Instead, colorful pictures hung everywhere, cheerful distractions. Flowers and ocean and sky. Freedom.

  “Freedom.” She tasted the syllables and thought about Neil and Megan. It was the best gift she could ever give her children.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “SOMEONE’S TAILING US.”

  Heather glanced into the rearview mirror of her sister’s car. Tiffany was right. The guy she’d noticed earlier was still there, and he was definitely not McCoy. Too short behind the wheel. And too intense peering over it.