The Lawman's Honor

He’d believe it when he saw it.

Eager to be doing anything other than sitting behind the desk, Heath was out the door and in the cruiser as fast as his bad ankle would take him. He liked Whisper Falls and had longed for peace and quiet. Be careful what you pray for, he supposed. In his former job, he’d rarely had a quiet day and the lack of action was making him a little crazy.

He cruised the streets first, eyes alert for anything out of the ordinary. So far this week, he and the chief had rousted a truant teenager, ticketed Bert Flaherty for doing forty in a twenty, responded to a possible dog theft and three domestics. Beyond that were the basic patrols, civic responsibilities and a handful of false alarms. He was still trying to figure out why Chief Farnsworth needed an assistant.

At the end of Easy Street, he pulled into Tommy’s Busted Knuckle Garage to check on his ride.

Tommy, a long, skinny man with brassy shoulder-length hair and a wooly reddish beard met him in the bay. “How’s the leg?”

“Good. What’s the verdict on my SUV?”

Tommy scratched his beard. “Insurance adjuster was here this morning. Sorry to tell you, Heath, but she’s a goner.”

Heath grimaced. He’d been afraid of that. “I’m going to have to get a new one?”

“Looks that way.”

He had a sudden vision of limping into the bank to ask Melissa Jessup for a loan, of having her pout over his poor little eye and his poor little ankle and his poor little broken car. Hiding a smile, he thought that might not be a bad thing. A man could use some feminine sympathy now and then.

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder and shook his shaggy head. “A rotten shame, a nice set of wheels like that, but I can’t put her back the way she was.”

He’d been fond of that SUV.

A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. The men turned their heads toward the sound. Were they due for another storm this afternoon?

“Thanks anyway, Tommy. It was good of you to go out in the boonies and haul it up out of that ravine.”

“Ah, no big deal. Just glad it was the truck that bit the dust instead of you.”

“Can’t argue that.”

As he left the garage and started down Easy Street, he spotted a jaywalker. Not that he was going to ticket anyone for the infraction, but this jaywalker caught his attention. Glossy black hair that swung against her shoulders as she bopped along, a hot pink and zebra-printed smock over black pants and a pair of black high-heeled ankle-breakers.

His boredom vanished faster than chips at a dip tasting contest.

He whipped the car into a U-turn and parked at an angle in front of Evie’s Sweets and Eats. He pressed the window button and watched the smoked glass slide away just as Cassie stepped up on the curb.

“’Morning,” he said.

She pivoted toward him with a smile. “Hi. Except it’s nearly noon.”

“Yeah.” He grinned.

“How are you?”

Better now.

“Healing.” He touched the bruise over his left cheekbone. “How’s it look?”

“Awful.” But her smile softened the word. “Maybe you should run by the bank and get Melissa to feel sorry for you.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

“You have?”

“My vehicle is a goner. Gotta buy a new one.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” She stepped off the curb to stand by his car window. A flirty breeze ruffled her heavy bangs and he was pretty sure he smelled that fancy shampoo again.

Jockeying for a better view, Heath leaned an elbow on the window opening and tilted his face. Cassie had something that appealed to him. A kind of chic wholesomeness mixed with Southern friendly and a dash of real pretty. “Think I should get a loan from Melissa?”

Cassie grinned. “She’s good at her job, if you can deal with the fact that she thinks you’re the hottest thing to hit Whisper Falls since Pudge Loggins’s turkey fryer caught fire and burned down his garage.”

He hiked an eyebrow, amused and flattered and knowing very well what she meant. “Does she now?”

This time Cassie laughed, her scarlet mouth wide beneath dancing green irises. “Haven’t you noticed the number of times she’s been to the courthouse this week?”

He hadn’t. Man, he must be losing his radar. He hitched his chin toward the bakery. “Were you going in there?”

“Lunch. Want to come? Evie makes good sandwiches from her own homemade bread. Fresh baked this morning.”

“Best invitation I’ve had all day.” Since he’d been here actually. The school didn’t expect him for another hour, so he radioed his location to dispatch and exited the car. The ankle screamed at the first step, causing an involuntary hiss that infuriated Heath.

Cassie paused, watching him. “You’re still in pain.”

“No, I’m fine.”

She made a disbelieving noise in the back of her throat. “You remind me so much of my brother.”

“Must be a great guy.”

She took the statement as the joke he’d intended. “The best. You should meet him.”

“I’d like that.”

“Come to church Sunday and you will.”

Heath reached for the antique door handle. The scroll on the amber glass was equally antique as was the rounded arch transom above the door shaded by a red fringed awning.

“If I’m not on duty, I might do that.” He needed a church, not that he’d ever had time to attend much, but he believed, and church was important in a small town.

With his ankle throbbing, he somehow held the door open for Cassie and limped inside a small business that smelled better than Grandma Monroe’s kitchen on Thanksgiving. Though he wouldn’t be sharing that information with Grandma. The smells of fresh breads and fruit Danish mingled with a showcase of pies and homemade candies.

“A cop’s dream,” he muttered, only half joking.

A middle-aged woman—Evie, he supposed—who obviously enjoyed her own baking, created their orders while maintaining a stream of small talk with Cassie. When she put his sandwich in front of him along with baked chips and a glass of tea, she said, “This one’s on the house, Mr. Monroe, and dessert of your choice. Welcome to Whisper Falls.”

“I can’t let you do that.”