Cavanaugh on Duty

chapter 11



The more she and Esteban delved into Ron Hays’s life, the less he appeared to have in common with the first two victims. He was younger than they were, still employed and obviously had little interest in volunteering any of his free time to help those less fortunate than himself.

Kari paced back and forth in front of the bulletin board. Hays’s photograph had been added to the board, taking its position next to William Reynolds and Mae Daniels.

Even the photograph looked out of place, Kari thought, slanting a glance toward it as she paced. Hays looked young enough to be their son.

Why was he victim number three?

Was he victim number three? she suddenly wondered, stopping dead in front of the board and staring at the man’s photograph.

Leaning back in his chair, Esteban noted the way she was looking at the board—as if her eyes could shoot laser beams out. “Got something?” he asked.

Maybe yes, maybe no, she thought.

“Maybe someone killed Hays after reading about the other two murders,” she theorized. She turned to look at her partner, her eyes bright.

Damn, but they were hypnotic, he thought. Like the rest of her. He forced himself to focus on her train of thought. “You mean, using the so-called serial killer—”

“Almost serial killer,” Kari interjected. “Technically, it takes three like murders before we can call the perp a serial killer, and we haven’t quite put Hays in the same category as Reynolds and Daniels,” she reminded Esteban.

“Okay.” He had no problem with adjusting his statement to suit her. He was accustomed to rolling with the punches—most of the time. “Using the so-called ‘almost serial killer’ for cover, whoever killed Ron Hays might have just been focused on getting rid of him and was hoping the murder wouldn’t wind up on his doorstep.” As he spoke, another idea occurred to him. “Or the other two murders he committed could have been done to provide his cover and his real intended victim was Ron Hays all along,” he suggested.

He watched her face to see her reaction, not quite sure just what to expect. What he saw was an amused, nonjudgmental smile. A smile that caught him a little off guard. “What?” he demanded.

She would have never believed it. “You were a fan of Agatha Christie mysteries when you were a kid, weren’t you?”

Defensiveness had always been second nature to him. Now was no different. “What makes you say that?” he wanted to know.

“Because you just described the setup behind one of her classic stories. I think it was called The ABC Murders. A killer murders three people in order to ‘hide in plain sight’ his intended victim.”

Esteban frowned. “I take it you don’t agree with the last theory.”

“I didn’t say that,” she pointed out. “I don’t have enough information on the third victim to rule that ‘hide in plain sight’ theory in or out right now.” She took a breath. “What I am saying is that the only thing that we know for certain that victim number three has in common with numbers one and two is that slashed throat.”

“Not the only thing.”

Kari and Esteban turned around in unison and looked toward the doorway at the woman who’d just spoken. Sean’s senior assistant, Destiny, was standing in the room.

“Okay,” Esteban said gamely, recognizing the woman from the last crime scene. She’d been one of the investigators there. “What else is there?”

Kari looked at her hopefully. “You found something,” she added, mentally crossing her fingers.

Destiny didn’t answer either one of them. “The boss wants to see the two of you in his lab.”

Kari knew better than to try to badger an answer out of Destiny. The woman could give lessons to clams when it came to being closemouthed.

“Lead the way,” Kari told the other woman, gesturing toward the door.

Destiny wordlessly turned on her heel and did just that.

* * *

“You know, I don’t recall you ever being this dramatic,” Kari told her father as she and Esteban filed into the main lab directly behind Destiny.

Her father was there, along with his array of the latest state-of-the-art equipment, all of which was lined up along the dark blue granite counter within easy reach. When she spoke, Sean Cavanaugh looked up from the microscope he’d been using.

“Must have something to do with my renewed lease on life,” her father speculated. He was all but beaming.

She noted that he’d been that way for weeks, ever since Deirdre Callaghan had accepted his marriage proposal.

“Remind me to thank your fiancée the next time I see her,” Kari told him, doing her best to look serious. About to say something else, she abruptly stopped as she remembered. “That’ll be a week from Saturday, won’t it? Boy, that came fast. I’m still trying to get used to the idea.”

Because she could see from the slightly puzzled frown on Esteban’s face that he wasn’t following any of this, she told him, “My father’s getting married next Saturday. To Detective Matt Callaghan’s mother.”

He was only vaguely aware of who Matt Callaghan was. He was still trying to become familiar with the names of various police detectives.

“Congratulations,” Esteban said.

“Thanks.” For a moment, Sean stepped outside his position as head of the lab and smiled at Esteban. “Why don’t you come to the ceremony? Everyone’s invited.”

“I doubt if everyone’s invited,” Esteban responded, then saw by the expression on Kari’s face that, just possibly, his assumption was inaccurate.

That seemed impossible...and yet, from what he’d picked up around town, the Cavanaughs were an extremely outgoing family—

Kari laughed at her partner. “Obviously, you haven’t heard about the famous Andrew Cavanaugh get-togethers. I’m beginning to think the man is a direct descendent of one of those characters out of Aesop’s fables, the one who had a jug that was never empty, no matter how much you poured out of it, and a basket that never ran out of bread, no matter how many loaves you removed from it.”

Totally confused now, he looked at Sean for some sort of an explanation. “Is she going to start making sense soon?”

“Actually, she is making sense in her own way,” Sean replied with a laugh. “It seems that for some reason, my brother knows how to whip up food for the masses without breaking a sweat. I’ve seen it for myself. No matter how many people turn up for an occasion, no one ever goes away from his door hungry, or thirsty—or disappointed, for that matter,” he added with a smile.

“And he just lives for birthdays, weddings and christenings,” Destiny chimed in.

“And whatever you do,” Kari told him with a great deal of enthusiasm, “you really don’t want to miss out on one of his Christmas celebrations.”

The day held no special allure for him, or any special significance anymore. To Esteban, Christmas had become just another day, like all the other days that came before it and all the days that came after. But he instinctively knew that his opinion would not exactly go over well with these people, so he kept it to himself and merely asked, “Why?”

It was Sean who answered him. “Because Andrew really pulls out all the stops. That includes coming up with new recipes, new ideas. Everything to make the holiday even bigger and better than the year before. I haven’t been a member of the family for all that long, but I’ve never known him to disappoint.”

“Wait, aren’t you a Cavanaugh?” Esteban asked. “The former chief of police’s younger brother?”

At least, that was what he’d heard—not that he paid strict attention to anything that wasn’t directly related to his own survival. But everyone seemed to either be friends with a Cavanaugh or have a story about them.

“Yes, but due to a mix-up at the hospital many years ago, I came on the scene rather late,” Sean explained.

Kari saw the befuddled expression whisper across Esteban’s ruggedly handsome features before it disappeared. He had obviously learned to keep his thoughts locked away for the most part. She leaned over in his direction and murmured, “I’ll explain later.”

The promise intrigued him. Her breath, warm and enticing along his cheek and neck, intrigued him more. He succeeded in keeping his reaction from being evident. No one looking at him would have guessed that he was actually reacting to the woman next to him rather than listening to the man standing in front of him.

“But I didn’t call you both down here to talk about my pending nuptials,” Sean announced, suddenly looking serious again. “The M.E. finished his preliminary exam and thought you might be interested in seeing what he found folded up and stuffed into the victim’s mouth.”

“His mouth?” Kari echoed. “The killer put something into Hays’s mouth?” The guy really was sick, she thought. “Why?”

“It’ll make more sense once you see what he stuffed into the victim’s mouth,” her father promised. So saying, he produced an eight-by-eleven flat plastic envelope. Inside was a colorful sheet that had obviously been torn out of a magazine. The page had been crumpled and some of the wording was ruined because of moisture, most likely saliva.

“My best guess would be that it was an act of hostility,” Sean told them.

“An act of hostility,” Esteban repeated. “You mean over and above savagely slashing the guy’s throat?” he asked.

Sean chuckled to himself. “Point taken. We’re dealing with one very angry individual,” he told the two detectives as he nodded at the sealed piece of evidence.

“So you do think it’s the same guy,” Kari said, watching her father’s face.

Sean indicated the magazine page on the table with his eyes. “What do you think?”

Kari looked down at the photograph on the magazine page. Though not as clear as it could have been because of the damage done by the saliva, it was a photograph of a Greek goddess holding up the scales of justice.

“Well, it’s official,” Kari sighed.

Esteban quirked a dark brow in her direction. “What is?”

“Our guy’s a serial killer. Three’s the magic number. And this makes three.” She looked at her father. “Anything else?”

“Not right now,” he answered. Kari turned toward Esteban. “Okay, back to the drawing board,” she said, resigned. “See you later, Dad. Destiny—” She gestured toward the young woman.

Esteban said nothing, only nodded at the head of the lab before falling into step beside Kari as they retraced their steps back to the squad room.

Only when they had gotten back to their desks and to the bulletin board that was the source of frustration to them both did he finally say anything at all.

“Maybe there’s something in the third victim’s life that’ll lead us back to the other two.”

Kari’s mouth dropped open as she looked at him in surprise. “That’s the most optimistic thing I think I’ve heard you say so far. Way to go,” she said, cheering him on.

He was afraid of that. He’d noticed that she had a habit of expecting more of the same once something went her way.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he warned.

“I’ll try to contain myself,” she promised, not even bothering to try to hide her amused grin. And then, after a beat, she decided to do a little reinforcement. “He was serious, you know.”

He was busy trying to put the pieces together and her comment came out of nowhere, disorienting him. “Who was serious about what?”

“My father. About inviting you to the wedding,” she reiterated.

His brows drew together. She was kidding, right? “Why would your father, the head of the department’s crime lab, want me at his wedding?”

“Why not?” Kari countered. He still didn’t get it, did he? Her family didn’t operate by the usual rules. They made friends, not acquaintances—especially when it appeared that a person needed a friend.

“Because he doesn’t know me from Adam,” Esteban emphasized. That seemed like more than enough reason to him.

“I think he knows you a little better than that,” Kari said. “Besides, you’re my partner. That’s enough for my father.” She searched his face, trying to see if any of this was getting through to him. How closed off was this man, anyway? “Didn’t anyone tell you that we’re all one big, happy family here?”

“I must have missed that memo,” he snickered. He didn’t want to get pulled in with these people. Something told him that there was a chance they could actually get to him, actually form a crack in his wall. Which was dangerous. Because cracks allowed things to seep in—and inevitably, that left room for colossal pain. He’d been there, done that.

He didn’t want to go through it again.

“Well, I’m giving you the audio version,” Kari informed him. “The police department is actually one big family and the Cavanaughs are considered a subset of that. Although, to be honest, I think we’d probably be one big, happy family even if we were a bunch of farmers and not part of the police department.” She added speculatively, “But being part of law enforcement probably works better for us....” Finished for the moment, she waited for Esteban to respond. When he didn’t, she had no choice but to press, “So, is that a yes?”

His thoughts already elsewhere, he looked at her distractedly. “Yes to what?”

“You have got to do something about your attention span, Fernandez,” she insisted. “You sound like a husband in training.” She reworded her question more completely, enunciating each word. “Are you going to come to my father’s wedding next Saturday?”

She wasn’t going to give him any peace until he agreed, although why it mattered to her one way or another he hadn’t a clue. Still, to get a little respite he said, “Yeah, sure, why not?”

It was the kind of answer that someone gave when they meant no but didn’t want to get into a discussion over it, Kari thought. She was not about to let the matter drop. “You want me to pick you up?”

Esteban switched tactics. “Why? You don’t trust me to show up?”

She thought about denying the truth, about letting all this go for the time being. But that only meant that the subject had to be revisited at some point—and since they weren’t getting anywhere with the serial killer investigation at the moment, she wanted to be able to clear up at least this one thing.

Besides, they could use the break. Or at least she could, she amended.

“Actually, no, I don’t,” she admitted.

He went on the offensive. There apparently was no other way with this woman, he thought.

“What does it matter to you if I show up or not?” he wanted to know.

The look in her eyes told him she was digging in. For a gorgeous woman, she could be one hell of a pain in the butt. Why that would make her even more attractive to him was a mystery he didn’t think he could solve.

“Because I think it would do you good,” she said.

“And you know this for a fact,” he jeered.

Kari held her ground, raising her chin defiantly. “Pretty much.”

Her chin made for one hell of a tempting target. Lucky for her, she was a female. Not so lucky for him. “How?” he challenged.

“Because, like that old song said, people need people. Socializing is healthy,” she insisted when he waved a dismissive hand at her and turned away. She sidestepped him and literally got into his face again. “It forces you to get outside yourself and talk to people, instead of just dwelling on whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

What was bothering him was her, and right now there seemed to be no way around that. Maybe he should have stayed underground and taken his chances with the cartel. At least death would have been reasonably quick, without any of this subtle torture he kept encountering.

“I had no idea you had a degree in psychology,” he grumbled.

She didn’t bat an eye, or rise to the insult she knew he meant to get under her skin.

“I don’t. I have a degree in people. When you grow up around six brothers and sisters, you tend to pick up a few things—unless, of course, you’re a rock.”

And she, he caught himself thinking as his eyes slid over the damnably soft, inviting curves of her body, was as far from being a rock as possible.

“I’d said I’d be there,” he reminded her.

“And I said that I’d pick you up.”

“You don’t have to go through that trouble,” he reiterated through gritted teeth. “Just give me the address where all this is taking place.”

“No trouble,” she stubbornly assured him, not giving an inch.

“You don’t trust me,” he accused again. They’d come full circle in less than five minutes, he couldn’t help thinking.

She smiled complacently at him, forbidding her headache to move forward. She needed to win this argument. “No further than I can throw you—and I’m strong, but not nearly that strong,” she told him.

This was getting him nowhere and he had no idea how long he could resist wrapping his hands around her pretty little neck—or wrapping them around other parts of her delectable anatomy, for that matter. For some reason, verbal confrontations just upped the stakes and made him want her more.

He nodded toward the bulletin board. “Why don’t we get back to what they’re paying us for?”

“Good point,” she answered. Break was over, time to get on with it.

Putting her thinking cap back on, she took in a deep breath, scrutinizing the bulletin board. “Okay, from the top,” she announced. “We’re going to see if we can find something else that these three people had in common. The same club, the same church, the same doctor—there has to be some kind of a tie. Since God knows they don’t look alike, the killer’s not picking them because they’re a certain type.”

“Sounds like that means a lot of banging on closed doors,” he commented.

Kari arched a brow. “I thought you were the one who liked doing legwork,” she couldn’t help reminding him.

“Alone,” he told her. “I like doing it alone.”

Her smile never faded. “Well, we can’t all have what we want. The trick is to want what you have.”

He stared at her. That sounded like some sort of brain teaser. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think on it, Fernandez,” she told him cheerfully. “Tell me what you come up with.”

Suppressing a groan, Esteban raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t know which was worse. That she tempted him or that she was driving him crazy. “I’ll tell you what I come up with—that I need a new partner.”

She pretended to gasp in surprise. “I thought you didn’t want a partner.”

“I don’t, but if I have to have one—” He wouldn’t give her up and he knew it. “Oh, the hell with it.” There was no point in trying to work out a run-of-the-mill truce. That was for ordinary people, and if there was one thing that this woman fate had saddled him with wasn’t, it was ordinary. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

She grinned broadly. “Music to my ears, Esteban.” He had a feeling he’d just made a fatal error.

And there was no turning back.