Hard Days Knight: Under-Cover Knights, Book 1 (13 page)

T
he deep waves
at Storm Lake’s east end were slapping against the rock sea wall, as Del approached SLEM, the emergency management office her father presided over. He got off early on Sundays so she’d called ahead to make sure it would be convenient for him to see her.

“Convenient! Is that how you put it?” He was a big man, his roughhewn features creased with lines from weather and his wealth of expressions. He had the most animated face she’d ever seen. Most people credited his enthusiasm for the funding they’d received for SLEM. It had taken him fifteen years of proposals and presentations and haranguing to get the feds to subsidize the project even knowing the costs would be balanced by the lives saved and property damage prevented.

The environment around Louisiana’s Storm Lake was so infamous that in the last ten years even the Storm Lake Tourism and Development Board had exploited it. The thinking seemed to be no matter how dangerous, if you have something as cool as un- explainably bizarre weather and a water body with an extensive variety of activities to offer, why not use it as a tourism draw. On the west end, over in Destiny, Del had heard from a friend in the sheriff’s department that the weather didn’t seem to even depend on any kind of tropical system in the Gulf. But here the long stretch across the lake pushed wind driven waves called seiches from west to east during stormy weather, which the resorts along the southern coastline used to promote surfing and other dynamic water sports.

When storms came though, they were wicked and the new early warning system her father was testing would give the towns around the lake a way to cut down on losses from hurricanes and tornados.

“Oh, Dad, you’re so busy. I hate to bother you when you’re trying to get ready to go home.”

“Oh, yeah? Why didn’t you just plan to come by the house this afternoon? Your mother’s over at the church but she’ll be home this evening.” His eyebrow hiked up as if to say,
Uh-huh, gotcha.

“
Come ‘ere, baby,” he said, opening his arms and allowing her to soak up his fatherly embrace. He was like a giant teddy bear, never condemning her or getting in the middle between his wife and daughter but supporting each.

“Honey, why don’t you come over tonight—”

“She’s with Tommy. I don’t want to interrupt what they are doing. Could you maybe see if she wants to have lunch with me Tuesday? I have some work things tomorrow…”

“Sure, sure. I’ll get her to call you.” He pursed his lips, weighing his words. “Del, she loves you. Just give her a chance to explain, hmm?”

“I will Dad. I love you both. Thanks…” she blinked her burning eyes, “thanks for not pushing.” She looked into eyes, which were a mirror of her own. “You’re still ‘the most
awesomest
daddy’,” she said repeating her childhood chant. He hugged her as tight as she could stand and countered, “And I love my little girl more than anyone else every will.” He kissed the top of her head and said, “Now, get on with you, I have work to do. I’ll get your mother to call you.”

L
uc reached
over and switched his alarm to off. He’d slept poorly thinking late into the night about Delilah’s confession that she’d attended no family dinners since Thomas had been hurt. It didn’t sync with the woman he knew or the cop who met situations head on. She took on other people’s problems and enemies like a champion.

She did that for others, but what about for herself? Maybe it was always more difficult to be objective about your own situation, especially with family. There had been too strong people at the helm of the Larue ship. Their commitment despite his mother’s deployment had been the fire that forged their marriage. Even in war, though, they hadn’t had to contend with one of their own being wounded in battle.

Yet, instead of becoming a trauma nurse or a social worker, Del had chosen to put herself directly in the line of fire every day, twenty-four seven. She’d wanted “revenge”, she’d said. He didn’t buy that, or she’d have become a different kind of cop, one that used that authority wrongly. He hoped she’d take his advice and talk to her brother. He knew how physical distance from his family had hurt and how integral their support was to his life.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Four a.m. was a bit early but it was useless to keep lying there with his mind circling over the same things. He’d asked her to spend Sunday with him but she wanted to go see her dad and try to set up lunch with her mom.

After he brushed his teeth and grabbed a cup of coffee, he walked through the gym to the back porch. He sat in the dark as he had on so many nights in the Mid-eastern deserts, admiring the quiet and the night sky. For the last year it had been a different kind of silence; the peace and quiet of the night not accompanied either by stealthy nighttime raids or the inherent dangers of daylight. Now, he felt a bit of that dread again because of what Del and Jed had told him about the circumstances of his accident in front of the gym. Well, accident wasn’t the right word because apparently someone had wanted to hurt him… or worse. He’d been too addle-brained to give much thought to what Del told him in the hospital, and then they’d been busy with the family reunion.

Del had ‘ordered’ him to be careful, to protect himself as if he were being stalked. That was new.

Was it possible the tire slashing was some kind of gang thing connected with LTF? There had been problems when he first started the outreach with insidious attacks on the teens who’d wanted to take part and even a couple of his mentors. Could this be a resurgence of that? Over what?

If not vandals, could Mercy have done it? Was she mean enough to puncture his tires just because he’d refused her attentions and the request to be her date for the Wexler thing? He just couldn’t see it. In the first place, the “pranks” seemed childish and had taken some thought to get away, without being seen. Mercy was messed up and narcissistic but he wasn’t sure if she was smart enough to plan any kind of subterfuge.

Soon Mercy’s opportunities to bother him would be over. Ridge had told him to come in an hour later today. He planned to meet with Mercy about company policy on sexual harassment and about getting along with her coworkers. Ridge said it was better if he handled it rather than Luc since it was workplace related.

Luc hadn’t been so sure. He would bet she’d have the last word after that talk. Luc had breathed a sigh of relief. It didn’t matter as long as he didn’t have to have to work with her again.

The only exercise the doctor had cleared him for was walking, so he hit the treadmill and got a few miles in. By the time he’d showered and caught his laundry up using one arm, it was time for work. His vehicle sat untouched in his driveway and again, he felt relief.

In the mirror the left side of his face and shoulder looked like he’d been kicked by a bull, the purpling shades giving way to chartreuse. Ridge probably wouldn’t want that much gore for a front cover, but it would certainly lend realism to the theme. As he started the Expedition and headed to Knights, he wondered how Taylor would be outfitted against his Navy Seal persona. With her tall lithe body, Ridge would probably have her costumed in a skimpy torn t-shirt and cargo pants, gun in one hand.

“
I
t went better
than I expected,” said Ridge when Luc had gotten a cup of coffee from the sidebar in his office. “I explained our policies regarding sexual harassment and told her I’d had some complaints about her conduct in that regard and it had to stop. She took it in stride but said she felt some of her actions weren’t undesired, that her actions were responses to the “attentions” expressed in her direction. She said she wasn’t aware
that
was a problem, but it won’t happen again.”

“I’m surprised she took it that well.”

“I didn’t mention your name specifically. I felt it allowed her to save face and start fresh so to speak.”

“Whatever you think, Ridge. I bow to your experience.”

Ridge laughed. “Buffy wanted me to fire her.” He threw his pen on the desk and ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t do that. We have an obligation to at least talk to her, explain policy and warn her of the consequences. I did that. Many people aren’t aware what constitutes sexual harassment, and our environment is unique. Hell, most of our employees run around half dressed and think nothing of it.”

Luc asked, “What are the consequences you mentioned to her?”

“She could face release and even banishment from the industry. The professional production companies we’re associated with screen out trouble makers since they usually lead to law suits.” Ridge took a deep breath and looked down at his computer briefly.

Luc asked, “Was there something else?”

His boss shook his head. “That was the good news. The bad news is that Taylor called the answering service over the weekend, and quit. No notice, no explanation. Well, she mentioned a standing offer to work for Wexler… I don’t know. I’m surprised she didn’t give any notice, or call Buffy at least, if she was too embarrassed to face me. Bottom line—now we’re one model short for this week’s shoots.”

Luc prepared himself for what was coming. “So Mercy will be preening for the wounded hero shoot.”

“Not exactly. Luc, I would appreciate it very much if you would do the shoot with her, but she’ll be in cargo pants and a cargo style shirt. I may even make her wear a minimizer to make her look more the part—we’re not trying to appeal to men. Although—well, only if you’re in agreement—I could turn this into a shoot for Muscle mag with her in damsel in distress garb and cargos.”

Luc shook his head.
Damsel in Distress!
He rubbed his eyes. “Whatever you need, Ridge, you know that. We’ll see if she got the point of your conference.” He rose. “I’d better head to makeup.”

Ridge laughed. “Makeup won’t have to do much to add color to your torso if your face is any indication. They’ll probably have to dress it up a bit, so those green eyes stand out. It’s your signature.” He slapped Luc on his good shoulder. “We have a prettier sling, too. I think I’ll come watch the shoot. Make sure Roger gets the theme I’m going for.”

Maybe Ridge hadn’t chosen to watch the shoot to keep an eye on Mercy, but Luc was glad nevertheless. He needn’t have worried though. Mercy was the epitome of professionalism. Roger and Ridge complimented her on how well she took direction. She’d dialed the sexuality up and down like a thermostat as needed for the two different shoots. At the end of the day, things had been resolved between them. Mercy even apologized for her actions the previous week, waved goodbye, her expression cool and walked out to her car. She looked like a woman who had the world by its tail.

D
el and Jed
worked a morning traffic snafu because of some construction and missing streetlights. After four years on the force, she could count the number of times she’d been a traffic cop on two fingers. Frustrated, Del stalked toward the crosswalk. Nothing was happening to advance Luc’s investigation. No new leads. Talking to the kids and keeping watch on Luc’s townhouse and the gym had yielded nothing.

Things seemed to be moving forward in her personal life though. Her mother had called and seemed delighted about lunch. Del was so ready to get to the heart of their problem. That’s what she always did. She identified the problem and then fixed it. She thought about Victoria’s comment to Luc’s dad when he’d come home, “One down, one to go”. If she could repair things with Mom tomorrow, then she’d talk to Tommy and by Thursday the gnawing ache in her heart, which had been with her since that horrible day, would be gone.

Jed looked over at her from the passenger seat. “That was fun. I think you even learned some new moves from the last time.”

“Maybe you should put in a transfer to traffic.”

“I couldn’t leave you without backup. And besides, I’d miss meeting movie stunt doubles dressed as mercenaries.”

Oh, yeah that.
Jed was going to be so disappointed. “I went out to the lake to see Dad yesterday.”

Jed asked, “How close are they to getting that early warning system operational?”

“That’s what he was working on. He says he’ll be testing in a couple weeks.”

Jed was quiet for all of three seconds then said, “So how was your weekend?”

“It was great! I went out to the Larue family reunion for food and football. It was really intense but for good reasons.” Once again, she thought about what Luc had said about Jed’s suitability for modeling. She shook her head; she just couldn’t see it.

“Oh, how so? Meeting the boyfriend’s family and all?” he teased.

“Do you want to hear about it or not?”

He motioned to her, “Go on.”

“Luc’s nephew showed up; surprised the family by coming home from Afghanistan. His mother had been nearly inconsolable because his homecoming had been derailed, so it was pretty awesome. The whole crowd of Larues rushed over to embrace him, and there are a lot of them, enough for two football teams.”

“Did you play?” Jed and Del had played on the department’s tag football team.

She laughed. “I played tight-end on Luc’s team and not ‘tag’ either.”

“Larue played with a broken shoulder?”

“Nearly a disaster; he’s supposed to find out today if its fractured or not.”

“Sounds like you’ve gotten in pretty deep already. Do I hear church bells?” Jed asked. “Who’s going to be your best man?”

Delilah opened her mouth to respond but found her thoughts in disarray.

“We’d better concentrate on finding your future husband’s attacker.”

“Would you quit? All I did was go to a picnic.” Delilah said, but her words rang hollow. Luc’s family had treated her like a family member. Just before leaving she’d made the rounds thanking Alicia and the others for the great food. She saw evidence of what Victoria had told her in the tiny fading handprints along the bottom of the island counter. Little Erin found her there and hugged her goodbye. Del’s heart had tumbled when the little beauty asked, “Are you going to be our new Auntie?”

Jed was waiting for more details, what had he asked her? Oh, about being the best man. Hell! “About the stunt double thing…”

“Yeah?”

Del’s cell phone rang. So did Jed’s. The explanation would have to wait.