A Man of Honor (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Barrett, Linda

  Out alone again? And why didn’t she mention the incident to him? She held her hand up before Dave could say anything. “I had a partner with me, Officer McCoy. Tiffany Peters, one of my staff at the shelter. Ask her if you don’t believe me.”

  “You’re not a liar. You’re as up-front as they get. I do know that much.”

  She turned to Officer Powers. “Thank you very much. I’m glad you were nearby. But I’m all right now. And I’ve got to talk to these kids.” She flashed a megawatt smile at the girls and waved them closer. “Come on. I’ve got great news. Just found out.”

  Dave listened as she explained about Girlfriends—a shelter for teenage girls. So, he’d have another group to watch out for in his district.

  “But if you want to get off the streets now, how about checking out the Youth Center?” Heather said.

  “No way, Ms. Heather. Brenda’s not even there anymore. And I’m not going, neither.”

  “Where is Brenda?”

  The girl shrugged. “Hangin’ somewhere, I guess. She said they had too many rules. And they wanted to call her folks or CPS. She just booked outta there.”

  Dave’s brain started clicking. Brenda had been one of the girls involved in Monday night’s incident. One girl had called her parents, but Brenda had chosen the Youth Center. Evidently not for long. Maybe Heather was on the right track opening a new place for the girls.

  Powers had another call on the radio and had to leave. Dave looked at Heather. “How about feeding these kids, and I’ll follow you home?”

  “Home? Oh, my goodness. I almost forgot where I was going.”

  This should be interesting, but he’d bet no guy was involved. She wouldn’t have forgotten about a lover, no matter what.

  “I’m out to raise money.”

  “Ah. You’re going to play Robin Hood, aren’t you? You’re going to hit on the rich for your shelters—maybe the River Oaks crowd,” he said.

  She smiled. “Not exactly River Oaks, but you’re on the right track. My friend Sara is rich, and her friends have more. And I want their donations. So, I’m trying to fit in tonight at Sara’s birthday party. Kathy made me dress up. I even have a script.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, you’ll fit in all right. And the men will definitely see you….”

  “I hope not,” she said. “I want their vision blurred by a few teardrops. My goal is to unplug their ducts, so they’ll open their wallets.”

  “Hope you brought a lot of soft soap,” he said. “You’ll need it.”

  “You think I can’t be charming?”

  Charming like a bulldog. He opened the passenger door of his pickup. “Get in, and we’ll find out. We’ll get your sister’s car later.” This was not exactly the evening he’d had in mind.

  “I can make it on my own,” she said. “I’m okay now.”

  “Look, Ms. Marshall, if you don’t want to ride with me, that’s fine. But I’m still going to follow you and make sure you get where you’re going in one piece.”

  “But you’re not even on duty,” she protested.

  “This is still my case report. But you’re right about tonight—I’m off duty. And that’s why you’re going to repay me by going to Eve Hannity’s house after you make your money pitch. My buddies and I were gathering there to set up some study sessions for the sergeant’s exam. And I still aim to do that.”

  So what if he didn’t sound very chivalrous. Heather Marshall was taking a chunk out of his evening, and lately a chunk out of his life. Besides, he’d been enjoying himself at Eve’s…but now another idea struck him. A more important one.

  The party offered a great opportunity for his friends to ID Heather. She’d get extra protection and not even realize it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SARA PATTERSON had the makings of a cop. When Heather had introduced her girlfriend to Dave, they’d exchanged head-to-toe detailed examinations, not polite glances. Her handshake was all business, too, and then she snaked her arm around Heather’s waist protectively. And after a minute of her clever questions, he heartily approved of Sara Patterson.

  “Happy Birthday,” said Dave, loudly over the throbbing music and the sound of people dancing on the packed dance floor. It was amazing that the private room of Stepping Out, one of Houston’s most popular clubs, could hold this many bodies.

  The redhead’s green eyes sparkled as brightly as the silver dress she wore. But she kept her arm around Heather. “Thanks. I’m making up for all the birthdays I never celebrated as a kid.”

  “Except kids get to keep their presents.”

  “If they have loving parents. Other kids grow up fast.”

  The two women eyed each other in silent communication. These two had a special rapport—they shared something in common—but he didn’t know exactly what. Not yet.

  Then Heather stepped away from her friend. “We’re sort of on a schedule tonight, Sara. McCoy…uh, I mean Dave is expected at another party.”

  Sara nodded toward a quieter corner. Dave and Heather both followed her. “I just want to make sure you know he’s carrying.”

  Dave winced. Evidently, his cotton button-down shirt wasn’t doing the job. Heather stared blankly at her friend.

  “A weapon, Heather. A gun,” Sara explained.

  “Oh, that.” Heather waved the concern away. “He’s a cop, Sara. HPD.” She shrugged with open hands in that “what can you do?” kind of way.

  Sara’s eyes widened. No games, no teasing. “You’re going out with a cop?” Substitute Darth Vader for cop and the horror would be equal. “No offense—personally,” she added.

  Yeah. Right. “None taken.” He put on his cop face. Cool. Expressionless. Controlled. The sooner Heather did her appeal, the better. Spending an unexpected evening with Heather was one thing, but wasting an evening with “attitude” was something else. He could’ve been back at Yorkie’s place with his buds really enjoying himself.

  “Relax, Sara,” replied Heather. “We’re not dating. My car was hit. He’s doing me a favor. He’s on the beat at Welcome Home.”

  Sara’s visible relief would’ve been perfect on a sitcom, but Dave found nothing funny about it. So be it. People had all kinds of attitudes about the police, and at least Sara was open about her feelings. Her second welcome on Heather’s behalf was warm and genuine. And that was a plus in Dave’s book. He liked the idea of Heather having loyal friends.

  Sara danced her way toward the deejay and when the current song ended, she took the microphone.

  “Welcome to my birthday bash. Hope you’re all having a great time.”

  Shouts and whistles from the guests.

  “All right! I promise you there’s plenty more party to come. But now, it’s time to pay back. Or pay forward. However you like to think about it.” She introduced Heather as the lady who spends her evenings bringing food and clothing to runaway kids. Then Heather took the floor.

  Unexpectedly, Dave felt his heart begin to pound as he waited for Heather to begin. The woman worked so hard at a job that would never make her wealthy—just like his job—and he wanted her to succeed. More importantly, a new van would keep her safe. And give him peace of mind.

  The crowd quieted down. Heather took the microphone from Sara.

  “Thank you for allowing me to tell a story or two about the kids I work with. The kids are real, and their stories are true. One night last year, when I was out in my van, a young girl showed up at one of my usual stops. She was alone. A pretty girl. Maybe too pretty, with her curly blond hair and deep blue eyes. She walked slowly toward me, then hesitated, as if deciding whether to speak, whether to trust me. But I held out a bunch of sandwiches, and she was hungry. Now, I’ve gone through this same scenario many times with many children. But I’ve never forgotten the first words that particular fifteen-year-old said to me.”

  Heather paused, and the room was silent. “‘It’s just me and God against the world. And sometimes, it’s just me.’”

  As Dave watched her,
Heather stopped for a moment and scanned the crowd before she picked up her story. “The world, ladies and gentlemen, is a very big place. And very, very scary to a child who’s been abused from the time she can remember. In this case by her father and an uncle. Her bruises weren’t always hidden, but no one intervened. No one helped her. So she ran away.”

  Some of the guests were already reaching for their wallets.

  “I was able to help because I was there. But my van is beyond repair—over ten years old now and off the road.”

  Questions came flying from the audience. “Where do you take the kids? What happened to that girl? Is Houston a Mecca for runaways? Do the police get involved?”

  Dave listened to her answers. And after four years on the beat, realized that besides Heather’s passion for the kids and disregard for herself, she was also rational and clearly intelligent. He’d never have guessed it from the rash acts he’d seen while on duty. She was confident in public speaking, too. Around the room, everyone was writing a check. And Dave reached into his own back pocket.

  But he’d bet his last gallon of gas, that his next interaction with Heather Marshall would be more trouble.

  “OH, MY GOD. I’m so lucky Sara offered to handle all the contributions until next week. I didn’t even bring a bank deposit bag with me. Dave, did you see how so many folks volunteered to help with Girlfriends? We’ll be rolling right along with the new facility….” Heather glanced at Dave behind the wheel of his pickup. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

  He honest-to-goodness smiled when he turned to her. And she caught her breath. Handsome, yes. But his approval stunned her. In four years, this was the first time. Maybe he didn’t think she was such a ditz.

  “Babble all you want,” he said. “You did a terrific job up there. Knocked me out, actually.”

  “Knocked myself out, too. I was a nervous wreck. I hate the public speaking stuff. Kathy’s better at it. Much more eloquent.”

  “She couldn’t have done any better than you did tonight,” said Dave. “Let’s see. You managed to get hours of free legal services from the lawyers, a rock-bottom wholesale price for a van, and numerous hours of sweat equity for the new building. I’d say you batted a thousand.”

  She took a deep breath. “Wow, the great Dave McCoy thinks I did something right for a change.”

  He was silent. When Heather stared at him in surprise, his eyes were strictly on the road, his mouth tight.

  “We’re almost at Eve and Larry’s house,” he said. “No personal comments are necessary.”

  He wasn’t getting his way tonight. “Don’t tell me I’ve insulted you, Officer McCoy! After all the times you’ve bullied me and talked to me like I was an idiot, who would have thought you could be so sensitive?”

  “I’m not,” he replied quickly. “And I’ve never called you an idiot.”

  “Don’t get technical. You’ve made me feel like one and I didn’t like it.”

  He pulled up along the curb and shut off the ignition. In the light of a streetlamp, Heather saw a tic start to throb under his jaw.

  “If the great Dave McCoy thinks you’ve done something ‘right’ for a change,” Dave said, “then explain what you’ve been doing for the last four years.”

  She paused with her fingers on the door handle and looked him squarely in the eyes. “My job, McCoy. I’ve been doing my job.”

  They both got out of the cab, their doors slamming in unison.

  Dave walked around the truck and led Heather up the driveway to the Hannitys’ backyard. “Relax,” he said, “and try to enjoy yourself. These are the folks who’ve saved your butt a time or two.”

  “And I’m grateful that they do their job so well.”

  He threw up his hands. “Do you always need to have the last word?”

  “Only when I’m right.”

  “You always think you’re right.”

  Heather didn’t reply. She needed to mull that statement over.

  Officer Hannity stuck her head out the door, a big smile of welcome on her face. “Come on in. We’re all in the family room. Ms. Marshall, I’m glad to see you’re in one piece. Everything okay?” she asked Dave as she let them in.

  “Her sister’s car is banged up a bit. I’ll fill ya’ll in later.”

  Eve nodded. “We saved some burgers and dogs for you. There’s plenty for two.”

  Heather’s stomach rumbled in reply, and Eve chuckled. “Introduce her around, Dave, while I put the food on the grill.”

  And suddenly Heather found herself in the midst of law enforcement. A whole roomful. And each person greeted her in that annoying way she was getting used to. As if she was a specimen on a petri dish. For some reason, Dave made sure she either shook hands or spoke to every single officer in the room. Unexpectedly, the introductions exhausted her. She would have preferred a general, “Hi, y’all.”

  She found a seat, but had a hard time relaxing. Being herself. She listened to them swap stories, similar to the ones her father had told. Handling this perp and that offender. Maybe they were releasing tension. Maybe they needed the comradery of others in the same job. She felt as if she was suffocating.

  Dave walked over. “Something wrong, Heather? The hamburgers are just about ready. So, don’t go fainting again.”

  She smiled in acknowledgment, wondering if he’d ever forget that one time in the parking lot. And also wondering how he knew she felt unsettled. “It’s not that….” Her voice trailed off.

  “Then what?”

  She stood and turned her back on the others. “It’s just occurred to me,” she whispered, “that I could be sitting in a room with about twenty people who are carrying. That’s twenty loaded guns in one room.” She gulped. “That’s a lot of guns.” And now he’d probably laugh at her and revert to thinking she didn’t have a brain in her head.

  “You’re absolutely right,” he said quietly. “But no one here thinks of a weapon as a toy. Rather, it’s a piece of equipment we need for the job. We don’t show our weapons off, we don’t leave them lying around, we don’t play with them. We follow all the safety rules. And besides,” he added, “we’re the good guys.”

  Not all of you. She returned a brief smile before Mary Beth sprang to her mind. “I’ll take your word for this crowd. But no police force is perfect.”

  “Point taken. And just in time. Eve’s waving us over.”

  Heather watched Dave’s burgers disappear in minutes. She’d barely downed a few bites of hers. “Your food bill must be astronomical.”

  He chuckled. “My mom always said I had a hollow leg. Still does, actually. I take her out to dinner quite often to make up for the cost of my teenage years, but I think she prefers inviting me over and cooking.”

  “With your appetite—it’s a lot cheaper at home.”

  “That’s exactly what she says.”

  “So, how does your mom feel about her son being one of Houston’s Finest?”

  Silence. “Now that’s a very interesting question,” Dave finally replied. “And the answer is, I don’t know.”

  And that was a very interesting answer as far as Heather was concerned.

  THEY REJOINED THE GROUP in the family room and within minutes, Heather was able to single out the guests who were not part of the brotherhood. The spouses, male and female. And Eve’s sister, Lisa Connors, who was now crossing the room to her.

  “I hope I’m not intruding,” she began, looking first at Dave, then at Heather. “I promised Eve I’d chat with you about working in Houston.”

  “I’m not a cop,” replied Heather quickly.

  Lisa grinned. “A blind man could see that.”

  “Lisa’s a social worker like you,” said Dave, “and Eve’s suggesting that she relocate to Houston.” He glanced over at his coworker. “Let’s say Eve is pushing the idea.”

  “And she can be very persuasive…but…I’m starting to think it’s not a bad idea. She’s my only family.”

  Lisa’s situation was sim
ilar to hers and Kathy’s, thought Heather. “I’ve got a sister, too,” she said, “and I’m glad we’re both in Houston.” She indicated the seat next to her, and Lisa sat down.

  Heather had a new facility to staff and her old job to fill. She focused only on Lisa and was glad when Dave left them to chat with his friends and set up that study schedule.

  But ten minutes later, Dave was back. “Why don’t you tell everyone about the new place you’re building? Maybe you’ll get some volunteers.”

  She had no intention of spending long working days with a bunch of cops who were used to taking charge and giving orders. But Dave was waiting, his expression eager. “I guess they’ll find out anyway, so I’ll announce it,” she replied.

  “All right,” he said, giving her a thumbs-up. “Hey, guys. Heather’s got some news for the north side of the Katy.”

  Instantly, all eyes were on her, almost like a replay of her earlier presentation to Sara’s friends. The two groups, however, could not have been more disparate. She remained seated, more informal than when she presented to the other group. And as she told Officer Hannity’s guests about Girlfriends, Heather realized that her goals were different with this crowd. She needed to inform. Educate. And help them to help her. No fund-raising.

  “We’ll be opening in January. I’ll be able to take up to twenty girls, all minors. We’ll integrate them into the public schools if possible. If not, we have funding for a tutor. But first we’ll tackle the hierarchy of needs—food, clothing, shelter.”

  “Referrals from…?”

  “Everywhere…and I’ll also take the girls right from the streets. I’m still doing mobile outreach.”

  She couldn’t tell if the buzz around the room was approval or not.

  When Heather stood up, the room quieted. “A youngster who’s run away,” she began, “has taken the most desperate step a child can take. She’s shouting for help. And someone has got to hear her.” She paused to let the words sink in. “Will you help me to help them?”

  Absolute silence. Then one after another, they started clapping. The room rang with their cheers. She hadn’t expected it and was almost shocked. Was her mind that closed toward police officers? Were the cops actually her allies? She glanced at Dave. He led the applause.