Hard Days Knight: Under-Cover Knights, Book 1

by Livia Quinn

  He rolled his eyes then closed them briefly, as if he’d known that was going to come back to bite him. “No, I just sorta let you come to that conclusion on your own. I never said I was, and I’ve done some private security work.”

  “When you’re not playing dress-up and having sex in hallways,” she countered.

  “I was not—”

  “You seemed to be…” she aimed a stare in the direction of little Luc, “enjoying the encounter. She certainly seemed to be enjoying your advances.”

  His face flushed and his jaw clenched, “Her advances. Only a dead man could remain unaffected by that… sexual predator’s tactics. If you hadn’t arrived I don’t know what I would have done. I have to work with her on this shoot, but after today, it’s over.”

  He turned, paced. “All she has to do is cry ‘Wolf’ and who gets blamed? Even you fell for it.” He ran his hand through the ebony locks.

  Okay, back up, Del. “What happened?”

  He raised one big hand to his neck, and shook his head. “Look, I’m a big boy. I can handle it. I’ll just go to the boss, and I won’t have to work with her again.”

  Del believed him. His frustration was just too real. And if there was one thing she was good at, it was sniffing out lies. Luc was shooting straight, she’d bet her badge on it. When she’d realized it was he standing there in the hallway and had experienced that sense of disappointment, it was because he’d impressed her as…dependable.

  “So, what do you do? Jed will be disappointed to find out you’re not a stunt double.” She eyed him from foot to head. “You aren’t are you? I mean…”

  “No. I’m a… cover model.” This was said not with embarrassment but a bit hesitantly.

  “Pardon me?” Del grinned. “Like on those romance covers with the hot, um…”

  Now Luc grinned. “Yeah. Like that.” To make his point, he made a motion with his hands holding them out to let her take in his wardrobe. “Like the look?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  He stepped closer so she could see the concern in the viridian depths. “I’m really glad you showed up. I was running out of options.”

  “What was your next move?” She smiled.

  He didn’t.

  “I really don’t know.”

  Luc didn’t know why it mattered so much that this woman believed him, but it did. “Look, I know things looked bad when you walked in, but I hope you haven’t changed your mind about coming Saturday.”

  “How do you know I even considered it?” The effort he put into not smiling said it all. “Tony.”

  He shrugged. “So you were planning to come?”

  She shook her head, and he thought he might still convince her. “I’ll make it worth your while. How about dinner, at La Maison?”

  “With you?”

  “Well, yeah. I like good food as well as the next guy. Oh, you mean, oh, I didn’t think—if you have a boyfriend…geez, I’m stumbling around like an idiot here. Help.”

  She laughed. “Okay. But you have to wear what you’re wearing now to dinner.”

  “Hell. No.”

  “Okay…”

  “Wait, you’re kidding, right?”

  She gave him a long cop stare, cool, assessing, then, bent over laughing. “Kidding. Though I do like the look. Maybe another time.”

  Relief ran through Luc’s limbs like the release of tension after a successful night raid. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted Delilah to… well, how bad he wanted her.

  “I better get back to work,” Delilah said.

  “Me, too. But first I need to go have a talk with Mercy. I’m going to give her one chance to back off before I take it to Buffy.”

  “Well, if it becomes a problem, the law can help,” Del said. “Sexual harassment is an issue I’ve been trained to deal with. Don’t think you’re the lone ranger in this situation. Polite men of a certain—appeal shall we say—are often targeted by women who take advantage of the man’s unwillingness to force them to back off, then turn the tables and accuse them of assault or worse. Usually the problem is worse for the man, because the assumption is he had the strength and power, and historically… well, you get my drift. Call me if she doesn’t get the point after your boss talks to her.”

  That wasn’t encouraging. She assumed Mercy would ignore his demands, but he didn’t want to involve Del in the thing with Mercy. “Sure. I’ll see you Saturday. 11:30 at LTF.”

  “I’ll be there,” Del said and strolled off almost as if she had a baton twirling in her hand. She was so…cop. And he was just standing here with a goofy look on his face.

  When he turned back around, Mercy was watching him from the door of his dressing room. She seriously creeped him out.

  “Hey, hot shot. I just came to tell you the director wants us back at the set.”

  “Fine. But this time keep your hands to yourself.” As if he’d been speaking into an 80 mph wind, she reached over and ran her index finger down his chest, until his hand captured hers.

  “We’ll see how long you can hold out,” she said as she stalked away, like a cat.

  A man-eating one.

  CHAPTER 5

  C ars lined the streets for two blocks around the teen center. Del had brought her personal vehicle and had to drive around for fifteen minutes before she saw a car pulling out of a space a block away.

  She jogged the block back to the venue and walked between two groups of teens at the front door. From the looks she received, she’d been made for a cop even in her jeans and t-shirt, her weekend attire. Luc might have expected dress casual but she’d taken him at his word.

  A girl who looked about sixteen stood just inside the door by a table loaded with brochures, handouts, and bottled water. “Hi, I’m Monette. I’ll bet you’re Ms. Burke.” She smiled when Del gave her a questioning look. “Luc—Mr. Larue described you. Here’s your welcome packet. Help yourself to any of the information on the table. There’s water and I think they have lemonade outside by the pits.”

  “The pits?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Can’t you smell it? BBQ chicken, hamburgers, potato salad…I love first Saturdays.”

  The kid’s smile was infectious. She was dressed in layered t-shirts, an aqua hoodie, and skinny jeans riding low on her hips. A silver belly button ring peaked out below her shirt, but she wore no other jewelry and bore no tattoos that Del could see. Del wondered what her story was. “Is there some kind of schedule? I’m totally in the dark here. Maybe I should look for Mr. Larue.”

  “I’ll take you to him. He’s shooting some hoops with a few of the guys. There’s no formal program or anything. Everyone will just sort of meander in around noon.” She stopped and pointed through a doorway, “There he is.”

  “Thanks, Monette.”

  “I better get back to my post.” She’d used her index fingers to make quotes around “post”, indicating someone had given her express instructions not to leave the door.

  Luc was indeed shooting a basketball with some very fit guys in their mid to late teens. As he went up for a shot, he caught sight of her, dunked the ball then swung from the basket. Very showy. One of the teens did a fancy handshake with him when he landed. “Razzed, man.”

  “Thanks,” said Luc. He jogged over to her, smiling, and shook her hand. “Hey. I was afraid you’d change your mind.”

  “I told you I’d be here.” She surveyed the room. “Looks like a good turnout. Is this typical?”

  “When we cook, it is,” he laughed. It was such a free, easy sound. It struck a chord inside of her. He was a natural with everyone it seemed, old women, young people and probably babies. Even cops. Look at Jed. He’d been a fan from the start.

  She was suddenly aware of another reason she was drawn to him; why she’d felt the urge to trust him from the first. He reminded her of Tom. That put a major checkmark in his column.

  “Come on. I’ll introduce you.” He walked beside her to a double set of doors where the smell of charcoa
l and BBQ was stronger. “This is where the magic happens.” He pushed the door open and held it for her.

  The crowd of adults on the grassy area at the rear of the building turned as Luc guided her into their midst. “People, I’d like you to meet Del Burke. She’s a police officer.” Luc introduced each of the mentors. There was a construction worker, a nurse practitioner, a paralegal, a veterenarian, a programmer, and a volunteer with the ASPCA.

  “What’s your talent?” came the question from Leanne, the nurse practitioner.

  “Pardon me?”

  “One of our,” Luc looked around for listening teen ears, “our goals for BE-day is helping our teens identify some of their innate talents. Strengths that can steer them in the direction of their life’s work,” Luc said. “You’re a cop. You must have given some thought as to what makes you good at your job. We each share an aptitude or ability, and they usually chime in out of curiosity or competitiveness.”

  John, the vet, said, “They are quite competitive.”

  Delilah hadn’t given her abilities a lot of thought when she’d joined the police force. She’d joined for one reason and she’d yet to accomplish that.

  The other doors opened and teenagers swarmed into the grassy backyard. “You weren’t thinking you were going to eat all the food were ya?” a tall young black youth asked Luc.

  “The hungry one is Jude,” said Luc. He put a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “You know the rules, Jude. Guests first, then ladies, then whatever is left you ravening wolves can have.” To Delilah he said, “Better grab two plates. There won’t be anything left after the first round.”

  Del made her way through the line filling her plate, taking in the fenced in backyard. It was well maintained with a brick and iron fence separating them from the neighborhood. She tried to remember what the place had looked like before.

  With mouths being stuffed, conversation diminished briefly, then picked back up. Delilah listened as the adults swapped opinions with teens about the local college’s first winning basketball team, movies, music, the newest cell phones.

  “If these kids are limited in their resources, how did they all get cell phones?” Delilah asked Luc.

  “Our programmer, Earl, has an arrangement with the district manager of the Tech Shacks. They donated some refurbished cells for our teens in return for some work at their stores—lawn cutting, cleanup, window washing, tasks they’d have to hire out anyway. It’s gone so well that some of our other mentors are coming up with ways we might take care of their other needs, things like food and clothes. Most of these kids have only the clothes on their back when they show up.”

  “Where do they sleep? How do you keep them off the streets?” She knew she sounded like a cop now, but it was a concern. The gangs would be more than willing to offer them asylum, for a price.

  “We get them off the street as soon as we can, Del, but sometimes they are too wounded and suspicious. It takes time. We have some people in the community who have opened their facilities at night or donated rooms—back rooms at the Goodwill, basement of a church, empty beds at the soup kitchen—when available. I’ll show you how we manage that. There’s a control room behind the gym where they can look for information on beds, clergy, food, clothing, emergency numbers. Every teen member knows the combination to the back door. If they have nowhere else, that room is secure, clean and a last resort.”

  “Hey, Luc. Can you give me a hand with the pit?” John called. Luc hurried over to help move the heavy barbecue pit so another table could be set up.

  “How long has this place been here? Like this, I mean,” she asked Rick, the paralegal.

  “Since Luc came home on leave three years ago. It’s just been getting up steam in the last year. I used to work with social services, but when Luc invited me to take part in this endeavor two years ago, I jumped at the chance. I saw the distrust the young people had for state run organizations and left to go in business for myself because I wanted to be involved. Without Luc, there would be no Larue Teens Forward.”

  Del added that to the growing list of Luc’s attributes.

  CHAPTER 6

  “O kay, everyone to the gym,” Luc said as the last few plates went into the trash.

  Three sets of low bleachers were pulled out from the wall. Luc asked Leanne to start the discussion off with what led her to become a nurse practitioner. Leanne asked one of the teens Luc had been shooting hoops with to come forward while she explained how she used natural healing techniques to augment her medical practice.

  “What’s ‘augment’?” whispered someone behind Del. Someone else said, “It’s like ‘in addition to’.” She recognized Monette’s voice and smiled at her answer.

  Leanne instructed Angel to hold one arm out and pushed his sleeve up. “Relax and let me place this blood pressure cuff around your arm.

  As she squeezed the bulb he complained. “Ow. That’s tight.”

  “I’m sorry. It has to be tight but a tough guy like you can take it, right?” She smiled at him kindly, listening with her stethoscope placed against his arm. When she was done, she said, “Who knows what is considered normal blood pressure?”

  Several hands went up. Leanne called on a younger teen. “Steven.”

  “120?”

  “160,” came another voice.

  A tiny Hispanic girl said, “That’s only half of a blood pressure reading. I think Steven had it right. 120 over…70?”

  “You’re close, Tia. Normal blood pressure is considered somewhere in the neighborhood of 120 over 80, any higher than that and we start monitoring it or even advising meds. 110 over 70 is even better. Without going into a textbook explanation—”

  Someone groaned a sarcastic, “Whew,” and Leanne went on, “If the lower of the two is higher than 80 it really needs to be monitored since BP often rises as we grow older. She looked at her ‘patient’. “Angel, you’re BP is a little high. Does it run that way in your family?”

  “I don’t know.” Angel’s eyes shifted away and Del realized by the look on Leanne’s face that she had mis-stepped, forgetting for the moment that many of the kids had no family. Although family history could have been something he was aware of.

  “I know some of you don’t have background information about your families. The point here is that if you know there’s a history, the earlier you begin to establish your “normal” readings, the better able you and your medical professional—me—will be able to determine if there’s a problem. Angel’s BP is 140 over 100. This could be a temporary high, induced by stress, illness, or his normal. We’ll keep an eye on it. Angel, do you mind if we check it again before we leave here today?”

  He shrugged, “I guess not.”

  She went on to explain that her mother had died of hypertension related illness when she was a teenager. This spurred her interest in healthcare along with the focus on the natural remedies and habits her parents had instilled. “The health industry is going to be one of the major areas of job growth in this country so if you think you might have a calling in this area, I’ll be happy to talk to any of you on the subject.”

  She took her seat and the crowd gave her a round of applause.

  Luc said, “ Abby, you’re up.”

  Abby, a large African American woman with elaborate braids and a Kelly green t-shirt that said, “Beam me up, Scotty” bent over a pet taxi and led, what else? a tiny Scottish terrier to the center of the room. The cocky little dog sat awaiting her commands.

  “Hi, y’all,” she grinned. It was apparent to Del the woman had a heart as big as the room. “This little mutt is Pepper,” she pointed to the dog, who was obviously used to being the center of attention. “Say hello to everyone, Pepper.” The Scotty, leaped into the air and did a flip into a seated position then barked once. This brought on laughter and some clapping.

  “I’m sure you’re surprised to see a mutt as talented as Pepper living at the ASPCA. He didn’t come out of the womb this well trained. He had a home and a life bef
ore something happened to place him with us. His records indicate he was homeless, picked up on the street about a month ago.

  “Pepper is one of the lucky boys who is enjoying a lively competition for a new owner. Other animals aren’t so lucky. I wonder if—Angel would you mind holding Pepper for a few minutes?” Pepper jumped into Angel’s arms the minute they were within range and gave him a kiss on lips. Angel laughed.

  Abby smiled. “Looks like those two are bonding. Some of you know I grew up on the street. My brothers and I were on our own for a time after my mother died. Unfortunately, my older brother fell in with gangs on the edge of our neighborhood, thinking they were the solution to losing our parents.

  Some people think that gangs are a brotherhood, that they take the place of family, but there’s a cost to membership and that cost for both of my brothers was their lives.”

  Del felt a deep pain hit her gut at Abby’s statement. Gangs had cost her family a lot, and there wasn’t a day she didn’t remember that fact.

  “Thankfully, I was taken in by a foster family who exposed me to a whole new environment—a farm in the country, which was where I learned, along with my foster brothers and sisters, that every life, every life, every living thing has its own intrinsic value.”

  “What’s ‘in..trisic’?” asked the voice behind Del. Abby was on top of it.

  “Intrinsic means special. Unique. Pepper is talented…” she rolled her eyes. “Yes, Pepper you’re the man,” she teased as he wagged his tail from Angel’s lap and gave his best cute doggy smile. Her smile faded.

  “But just because Scotty may have had advantages of training and proper nutrition in his early life doesn’t mean he is exempt from being homeless today. Just because he’s talented—and cute—doesn’t make him any more unique or special than the many other animals at the shelter. To the contrary, animals like Hogwart here,” she bent to retrieve a pudgy little creature from the crate behind her, “are unique in their own way. Any volunteers?”

  Monette went running down the bleachers past Del and scooped the creature from Abby’s hands. “What is he?”