FLOODLIGHTS ILLUMINATED the police station and the front parking area. Heather got out of the backseat as soon as Mark stopped the car. “This shouldn’t take too long.”
“Slow down,” said Kathy. “We’re going with you.”
Who knew the place would be so busy at night? Heather looked around as she walked through the front door to the Information Desk. “I want to report a stalker.”
The officer picked up a phone and spoke into it. A minute later another police officer appeared from inside the main working area. “This is Officer MacDonald.”
The cop grunted and motioned her to follow. When Kathy and Mark started walking, too, the man turned, his brows drawn.
“We’re family,” said Mark.
“Family can wait here.” Heather darted a glance at her sister and Mark and shrugged. Then she followed the cop.
“So, who’s stalking you? A husband? A boyfriend?” asked the officer after he sank into his seat. He reached into a drawer and pulled out some forms.
“Definitely not.” Heather sat at the edge of her chair.
Maybe it was the tone of her voice, but that got the cop’s attention. And she wasn’t sure she wanted it. His eyes appraised her from head to foot. “There’s always a boyfriend when there’s a restraining order,” he muttered.
He looked at the paper on his desk. “Name?”
Heather stood up. “Never mind. I’ll handle it myself.”
“Whatever you want.” The cop sat back in his seat and folded his hands across his stomach.
Heather took several steps toward the exit when she heard her name and saw Jazzman. “Hey, Jazz.”
“Looking for Dave?” he asked, falling in step with her.
“It would be great if he were here, but I didn’t expect him.” She inclined her head toward the guy she’d just left. “What’s his problem?”
“Mac? He’s an ass.”
Heather started to laugh. “I’m glad I didn’t cause his attitude. What a creep.”
“We can’t all be as perfect as McCoy and yours truly,” he said with an irreverent grin. “So how can I help you?” He waved her into a chair and sat behind a desk.
She paused. Jazz was a great guy. He’d come to her aid in the parking lot, a devoted cop. But still, she paused. At this point, Landers’s grudge targeted her. If Mary Beth were truly in danger, she wouldn’t have hesitated. But Mary Beth couldn’t be safer unless she really were in El Paso. And Heather was used to taking care of herself. She’d tell Dave about the phone calls tomorrow. “It was great seeing you Jazz,” she said, rising to her feet. “Take care of yourself.”
Before she could leave, a tall man in uniform motioned to Dave’s friend. “Come with me. We’ve got a DV situation out there.”
“Sure, Captain.”
Heather understood. Domestic Violence. The kind of call cops dreaded most. Emotions ran hottest in these situations. No telling what weapons might be stashed in the house.
“McCoy needs a negotiator.”
She grabbed Jazzman’s sleeve. “Dave? Where?”
“Who’s she?” asked the captain.
“McCoy’s girlfriend.”
“The woman who was almost killed by that drug runner?” The man studied her for a moment. “We’ll call you when it’s over.”
Not good enough. She ran to the entrance area. “Mark, we’re following that police car. Dave’s in trouble.”
THE MAN ON THE OTHER SIDE of the door had a gun and he was promising to use it on himself, his wife and two children. Dave had sent Powers to explore other possible access to the first-floor apartment.
Nothing is ever routine on the job.
On the plus side, Dave had established a dialogue with the man before he drew the gun. On the minus side, they were still separated by a door and walls. He’d keep on talking until a negotiator specialist showed up.
“Hey, Robert,” Dave ventured. “I know you don’t really want to hurt your wife or your kids. Tell me what you want, man. Just talk to me.” The guy had lost his job. The neighbors had told him.
A marked car pulled up quietly. Jazz and the captain. He waved them over.
“I’m better off dead,” came the voice inside the apartment.
“You don’t really believe that, Robert,” called Dave. “I know you lost your job. But we’ve got people who can help you find one.”
“I can’t feed my kids. I can’t pay the rent. I’m hungry! What kind of a man am I?”
“We can help you, Robert. We help people get jobs all the time. My pal, Jazzman, is the man who can help you out. Help you get what you need. He’s right here with me.”
Silence.
Dave checked his watch. “I’ve been at it for thirty-five minutes,” he said to the others. “And Powers says there’s no other way in.” He glanced to where Powers had established a perimeter. Too many nosy neighbors were hanging around. Powers needed help.
“I know about lots of jobs,” Jazz called. “But what kind do you want?”
“My kids are hungry.”
“We can do that, Robert,” said Jazz. “I’ll get hamburgers for everybody. For you, too. And you’ll feel better. And then you’re going to do something for me.”
They didn’t like silence.
“Robert! Are you listening? You gotta keep talking to me, man, so we know you’re okay.”
“I’m not okay. I’m better off dead. We’re all better off dead.”
“You know that’s not true, Robert,” said Jazzman in a voice as smooth as his name. “So, let’s talk about the job you really want.”
Dave listened with half an ear as Jazzman continued communicating with the man. He was working the crowd now, forcing room for the ambulance he’d called. No sirens. No flashing lights.
Then he glanced up…and saw her. Illuminated by the moonlight, Heather was more beautiful to him than ever. She stood quietly, as immobile as a still-life painting, simply watching him. With eyes filled with love.
“Go home, sweetheart.” His voice cracked. “Please.”
She extended her hand to him. “Give me your keys. I’ll be waiting.”
He complied without another word. Kathy and Mark were there, and he knew Heather must have talked them into this madness, but he didn’t understand why or how. He just wanted them gone from the scene.
Heather smiled at him, and they left. Relieved, he redoubled his efforts to push the growing crowd farther back. That’s when he noticed the local television cameras. The reporters had picked up the call on their police scanners, and now they had a story.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HEATHER DOZED on the couch with the television on, coming awake when the story was featured on the local news channel. She watched Dave doing his job, heard him interviewed by the reporters, but couldn’t see or hear what Jazzman was doing, which in her opinion was appropriate. The reporters stayed next to the perimeter, which made Dave one of the more easily accessible officials.
He’d been the first on the scene about the same time Heather had been at the police station, and now it was nearing 2:00 a.m. The cable news continued to keep her company while she fought to stay awake. But it was a losing battle.
A sharp rap on the door woke her. She jumped to her feet, dizzy for a moment, then remembered where she was and ran to open it.
“Welcome home.” She took him by his arm and urged him inside, then kicked the door shut.
“Everything turned out fine,” he said, exhausted but smiling. “Robert is in the psych unit at the hospital, counselors are with the wife and kids. They’ll qualify for services. And Jazz is still with the HPD shrink…I promised to call in the morning.”
“Why’d he let you leave?”
“Because I said someone special was waiting for me at home.” He leaned back to look at her. “So, why are you here?” he asked gently.
Why was she here? She winced. Had he no clue about how she felt about him? She wouldn’t allow the hurt to show and somehow managed to prod
uce a smile. “I’m your backup, McCoy. Finally, I’m helping you.”
“You can’t admit it, can you?” he asked, his voice still soft.
She understood what he was asking. Her mouth opened to tell him…but nothing came out.
“I’m so crazy in love with you, Heather, that you’re part of who I am. So, if I have to wait a little longer, I will. And one day, I’ll hear the words from your beautiful sexy mouth.”
Tears pooled in her eyes and ran down her face. Dave tried to brush them away. “Aw, Heather. Don’t cry over me.”
Her heart swelled to bursting. She pulled him toward the back of the apartment. “Dave…I want to hold you. And show you…”
“Sweetheart, I know how you feel. You don’t have to prove…”
She stopped and cupped his face with her hands. “Sometimes, honor is overrated…. We could…”
A grin crossed his face. “You think?”
“Only with you, Dave. Only with you.”
He gathered her against him, locking her in his grip so tightly she couldn’t breathe for a moment. And then his mouth covered hers, and her thoughts dissolved to nothing.
She kissed him freely. And felt his clear response against her body.
“I need a shower,” he murmured.
He didn’t seem to want to leave her even for a minute. “Want company?”
“Only if it’s you.”
“Oh, it’ll be me all right.” She reached for the top button of his shirt, slid it through the hole, then kissed his bare skin beneath. He stopped breathing.
“You’re going to kill me, Heath….”
“Yeah…I know….” And she opened the second button. Then the third, sprinkling kisses, licking his skin and feeling him shiver.
“Hang on, sweetheart. I’ve got to get rid of this.” He unstrapped his gun belt and disappeared for a moment. Heather stood in the hallway, stunned. She’d forgotten all about that part of his uniform. Maybe that was a good sign.
He was back in a jiffy, shirt gone. “Now where were we?” he asked as he began to kiss her again. “I think two can play this game.” He nibbled his way down her neck to the V of her shirt. One button open. Two buttons open. He nuzzled the cleft between her breasts, made his way over her bra. She felt his warm breath through the thin material, arousing her, sending shivers down to her toes. Her legs felt weak. She held on to him.
“I swear to God,” gasped Dave, “this time it’s going to take longer.”
But his arousal was evident, and she was as ready as he. “I don’t think so,” she gasped.
A short time later, however, as the hot water flowed over them, Dave took his time moving the sudsy washcloth from her neck to her toes. Along her spine, across her bottom. Along the outside of her leg, then inside, traveling to her inner thigh, and higher. He brushed lightly against her most sensitive spot. She had to grab his shoulders for balance.
“I love every part of you,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful, Heather. And I love how you respond to me. Sweet…sweet…let’s keep going….” But his hand remained there, pulsing against her until she was caught in his rhythm. “Oh…oh….” Short breaths. Little air.
He only stopped stroking when her entire body screamed for release…again.
She glanced up at him. “I’m taking charge now. It’s only fair.”
“Whatever you want…” She smiled, touched him and heard him catch his breath. Her fingers traveled lightly up and down his erection.
“Heath-er.” His voice shook. “Slow down…slower…”
She looked up at his taut face, full lips, eyes as dark as night. His hands pressed against the sides of the shower stall to keep his balance. “I’m ready, too,” she whispered, fumbling in the soap dish for the condom.
Despite his need, he entered her with care, nudging her against the shower wall, fitting himself to her, allowing her to absorb him. And then she arched forward, holding on to his shoulders, knowing she was safe. He scooped her up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. She caught his rhythm in two strokes and then they moved as one.
They finally collapsed to the floor, drowning in a flood of pleasure. Exhausted.
“You’re amazing,” he gasped. “There’s no one in the world like you.”
“Or you.”
He shut the spigot with his toes, and she stared at him. “I never knew how wonderful a shower could be.” Her genuine surprise provoked giggles from her, but Dave’s laughter rang deeper. To Heather, he looked as young as a boy. No lines. No furrows. Full of innocent delight.
He helped her up. Ran kisses all over her neck. “The best is yet to come,” he whispered. “All you need to do is trust me.”
“I’m working on it. Almost there.” Her brain had just about caught up to her heart.
DAVE AND HEATHER arrived at Girlfriends at noon, later than they’d planned. But Patrick and Anne had covered the details with the other volunteers.
“Sure you’re all right, son?” The elder McCoy walked quickly toward Dave. “You had quite an evening.”
His dad didn’t know the half of it. “Me? You’re the one who should still be sleeping. Why’d you hang around so long last night?”
Patrick glared at him through tired eyes slightly bloodshot, then turned toward his ex-wife. “He still doesn’t get it. Smart as a whip and still doesn’t get it.”
Of course he got it. “I’m your son. I love you, and you love me. That’s fine. But I’m a cop, and I do my job.” And why the hell were they having this conversation anyway? Especially in front of Heather who still harbored doubt.
“And I’m a father, and I do my job, too.”
“Shush, Patrick,” said Anne. “He looks fine. Better than ever.” She studied her son. “Did you debrief yet?”
“Last night, and again this morning on the phone. My head’s on straight. Enough?”
Anne nodded, then kissed him. “Until the next time.”
Dave glanced uneasily at Heather who was absorbing the conversation. He might as well be up-front. “There’s always a next time. You understand that?”
“What do you think?”
He nodded but said nothing. She understood the job all right, but her fears were not the same as his mother’s. She trusted his instincts and his knowledge, but Heather still didn’t trust cops. To her, the phrase “true-blue” was not reassuring. These two women in his life were not coming from the same place at all.
“I think we have work to do here,” he said to Heather. “Let my folks go home.”
“Of course!” Heather exclaimed. “And thank you so much.” She turned to Anne. “Can you think about colors for the bedrooms upstairs and how to decorate them?”
“Consider it done. And by the way, I’d like some of that career advice I’d mentioned. When can we speak?”
“Mom, you’re putting her on the spot.”
Anne waved away his concerns. “It’s just informal.”
“How about over lunch on Monday?” suggested Heather.
Dave searched her face but found nothing but friendly interest. “Don’t let my stubborn mother bulldoze you into anything you don’t want to do.”
“And how often does that happen?” Heather asked quietly.
He felt his body stir. She’d come to him of her own volition. A precious gift. He looked from one woman to the other, then glanced at his dad. “What is it with our attraction to strong women?”
“That’s easy,” Patrick said, his voice not easy at all. “They keep life interesting. And keep us grounded. And when they choose us…well, we’re the lucky ones. It took me half a lifetime to discover that they’re our salvation.”
“Want to tell them now?” he asked Anne softly.
His folks didn’t have to say a word. Dave knew what would come next. “When am I walking you down the aisle, Mom?”
THE REST OF THE WEEKEND passed by in a rush, and Monday morning seemed to arrive far too quickly. A mystery to Heather, who was now in her office, wearing h
er administrator and counselor hats. It was already November. Kathy’s wedding loomed only a month away, and Girlfriends would open shortly after that.
Her phone rang. Lisa Connors. She’d moved to town permanently, staying with Eve and Larry until further notice. Eve seemed much stronger now, but she needed to keep her feet up as much as possible. “Frankly,” Lisa said, “it’s Larry who really wants me around. He’s more nervous than Eve.”
“Maybe you’ll stop him from driving her crazy.”
“I sure hope so. And now that I’m a new Houstonian, I’m so excited to find out all about Girlfriends.”
“Just what I wanted to hear.” They set a date for the next day.
Just as Heather hung up, the phone rang again.
“Heather? This is Mary Beth. Can we talk now?”
“Sure. In five minutes in the lounge.” Phone calls to job applicants would have to wait. Mary Beth took priority.
As soon as she saw her, Heather knew the other woman had made her decision.
“I’ll need to leave here someday,” said Mary Beth. “So it might as well be now.”
Heather studied the pacing woman who was trying so hard to be brave. “O-kay,” she drawled. “We can certainly make arrangements for you. Tell me how you arrived at this decision.”
Mary Beth nodded. “In the end, it was rather easy. How can I walk the streets of Houston safely? How can I enroll in the culinary training here? I know my husband, Heather. He won’t respect any restraining order. As soon as I try to make a new life, he’ll find me. He’ll find the kids.” She braced her hands against the back of the couch and leaned forward, head down. “No. I can’t take that chance.”
“Dallas?”
To her surprise, Mary Beth shook her head. “I’d rather go out of state. He’s got too many buddies in Texas.” Then the tears came. “My…my parents don’t know where I am. They must be worried. Who knows what Hank told them?”
And why hadn’t these parents helped their daughter? But Heather didn’t ask. She knew the answer. They didn’t realize what was happening. Hank had probably spun a complex web of lies and rationalization. Some abusers managed to fool the world for years.
A Man of Honor (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 17