Catch Your Breath

Also by Shannyn Schroeder

More Than This

A Good Time

Something to Prove

The O’Learys

eKensington
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

To Trouble,

I love you even when you talk too much

No book is really written in isolation, and this holds true for this book more than
any other I have written. This was the first book that I truly had to write under
deadline, and I was nervous. Not only did I have to write under a real deadline, but
I also had to start the book over the summer while my kids were home. Then, two writer
friends, Erica O���Rourke and Clara Kensie, came up with the brilliant idea for Summer
of All the Words. The concept was simple—every night, writers would meet on Twitter
from 10 to 11 to get words on the page. Without that motivation and support, I’m not
sure writing would have been as much fun, so I owe a huge thank-you to Erica, Clara,
and all the writers who showed up nightly all summer long. Next, as always, thank
you to my critique partner Paly, who is never afraid to tell me when I’m screwing
up my characters. To Hanna Martine and Pamala Knight, who beta read the book and gave
me excellent insight under pretty tight deadlines—I owe you guys. And finally, to
all of the book bloggers and readers who have taken the time to read about the O’Learys:
Without you, I wouldn’t be able to have such a great job.

J
immy O’Malley sat in the commander’s office, knowing that one day, he’d move into
the space. Today, however, he was waiting to hear why he’d been summoned. He hadn’t
been a detective long enough to screw up, so the reason eluded him. He’d been working
doggedly on some property crimes that went nowhere. Most of the detectives from his
class had gone on to investigate violent crimes. He’d been relegated to burglary and
vandalism.

Commander Elks hung up the receiver and stood. “I hear good things about you, O’Malley.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“I’ve been contacted by the mayor about a special assignment.”

Jimmy tried not to get excited. “Special” could mean a new task force or babysitting
a dog. He really hoped for the former.

Elks sat on the front edge of the desk. “You’ll be going undercover to gather information.”

Undercover sounded good. “Information on what?”

“A possible theft.”

“Possible?”

Elks shook his head and crossed his arms. Jimmy realized the commander wasn’t happy
about this assignment.

“The mayor has a friend who was burglarized. He wants us to quietly look into it.”

“Did he file a report?”

Elks shook his head. “Like I said, it’s a special assignment.”

A sinking feeling hit him. Not the good kind of special.

“Here’s the deal, O’Malley. The mayor’s buddy was robbed, but he didn’t report it.
I’m still not clear as to why, but the mayor thinks his friend is not the only victim.”

Jimmy shifted. “He thinks?”

“These people are high society. They have something stolen, they just replace it,
I guess. I don’t know. I told the mayor that without a formal report, we couldn’t
do much. What I did promise was that if he provided access, I would provide a detective
to investigate. If you come up with other victims, we’ll form a task force. If he’s
right and someone is targeting the city’s wealthy, it could be a career-making case.”

“And if he’s wrong?”

Elks shrugged. “We lose some man hours. You get to rub elbows with the upper echelon
of the city and attend some fancy parties.”

Fuck. Getting dressed up to hang out with a bunch of snobs was not his idea of a great
career move.

Elks reached around, picked up an envelope from his desk, and handed it to Jimmy.
“You’ll be attending a gala tomorrow night. It’s black tie, so get a tux. You’re going
in as James Buchanan, a friend of Mayor Park. You’ve just moved to the city, and he’s
extended his societal pull to you. He’ll be there to introduce you around.”

Jimmy looked at the invitation, which felt more like fabric than paper. The script
was fancy calligraphy. Elks went back to his side of the desk and Jimmy stood.

Before leaving, he had to know. “Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, why me?”

“You’re a low man in the ranks and no one knows you. I can’t afford to pull a detective
off a homicide to make the mayor happy.”

Disappointment stung. Part of him had hoped that the extra hours he’d put in on going-nowhere
cases had made an impact, that people higher on the ladder had noticed. Instead, he
could’ve been a total idiot and still been chosen for this assignment.

At least he’d get face time with the mayor. That couldn’t possibly be a bad thing.
Make a positive impression there and he’d have pull down the line when he’d need it.

Jimmy went back to meet up with his partner, Gabby. She’d been reinterviewing a witness
to one of the burglaries they were trying to solve.

When he found her, she sat at her desk, staring at a file.

“Hey.”

“So what’d Elks want?”

“I got a new assignment.” He explained the details and her mouth opened.

“And he chose you? What the hell, man? I wouldn’t mind attending a party. Although
the heels would probably be a killer. But the champagne and caviar? Might be worth
suffering through heels and a dress.”

He shook his head at her. “I’m there to get information, not to get drunk.”

“Lighten up, O’Malley. There’s no rule against enjoying your job. If you don’t find
some spark, you’ll burn out inside five years.” She closed the file in front of her.
“At least your case will get me out of here.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I get to be your backup.”

Jimmy walked through the front door of his childhood home and tripped on a hockey
skate. What the fuck? His brothers weren’t twelve anymore. You’d think they could
manage to pick up their shit. He went straight to his bedroom upstairs to hang up
the tuxedo. If his brothers caught sight of it, they’d never stop ribbing him. They’d
assume he had a date.

Not that he’d waste dressing up on any of the women he’d been with lately. His life
plan was right on track, except for that one part. Finding the right woman had not
been working out.

“Hey, Jimmy. You home?” his baby brother Tommy screamed from the kitchen.

Rather than yell back, Jimmy walked back downstairs. “What’s up?”

“Your turn for dinner.”

Shit. He’d forgotten. He eyed the phone and wanted to call for pizza, but he knew
his dad had probably eaten crap all day, so he’d have to cook. His brothers cheated
enough on their days. “Where’s Dad?”

Tommy pulled a beer from the fridge and shrugged. “I just got home a little while
ago. He wasn’t here.”

“Sean around?”

Another shrug. “Haven’t seen him.”

Jimmy checked the contents of the fridge. He didn’t have the energy to go shopping.
If their dad wasn’t home anyway, pizza would be fine. The old man’s diet would be
shot for the day. Jimmy just hoped he was smart enough to check his blood sugar while
he was out. He tossed thirty bucks on the table and grabbed a beer for himself. “Call
for a pizza. No anchovies.”

Tommy snickered. He was the only one in the house who ate anchovies, so when given
the chance, he ordered them on pizza so he wouldn’t have to share. Sometimes Jimmy
let him get away with it. The kid was on the scrawny side. Always had been.

Jimmy took his beer back upstairs. After his brothers had moved out, he turned the
two attic bedrooms into an apartment for himself. If he had to be stuck living at
home with his dad, he might as well be comfortable. He hadn’t counted on two of his
three brothers moving back in.

They’d moved into the basement. At least they had a separate entrance, so it gave
the appearance of an apartment. Until you walked into the unfinished basement anyway.
Neither Tommy nor Sean did a damn thing to improve the space. They lived in a concrete
dungeon, and it didn’t seem to bother them a bit.

After a quick shower, he sat at his computer to research Mayor Park’s friends and
the charity event he had to attend. He didn’t go into any situation unarmed.

Moira O’Leary scanned her closet for the right gown for the fund-raiser for Children’s
Memorial—correction: Lurie Children’s Hospital. It didn’t matter if she’d grown up
knowing it as Children’s Memorial. If she didn’t get it right in the article, she’d
be a laughingstock.

“Ooo . . . what about this one?” Her friend Kathy pulled out a simple little black
dress.

“Not formal enough. I need floor length for this party.” It looked like she needed
to make another trip to the consignment shop.

“Rough life you have. Getting dressed up and pretty in order to drink with a bunch
of rich people who are donating money for a good cause. Shoot, how do I get in on
that gig?” Kathy replaced the dress in the closet.

Moira smiled. All anyone ever saw from her life was the glamorous parties. “Yeah,
that’s my charmed life. Champagne and bonbons.”

She laughed it off. It was easier than trying to convince anyone that she held a real
job. No one ever saw her at three in the morning struggling to get words on the page
to meet a deadline. They all forgot the years she wrote obituaries and suburban city
council meeting articles.

“Really, Moira. Can’t you get me in to one of these parties? I’m thinking it would
be a great place to meet a guy. It would be like
The Millionaire Matchmaker
without Patti being mean to me.” She plopped on Moira’s bed.

“If I had an extra invite, I would. I get one, and I usually have to beg for that.
Plus, I’ve yet to see an unattached guy who I’d like to date.” She’d been to enough
functions to realize that having money didn’t make those guys any better than the
ones they’d meet at her family’s bar or her brother’s bowling alley. “Come on, I need
to go shopping. I can’t wear the same dress I wore last week to tomorrow’s party.
I need to spread them out or people will notice.”

Kathy stood and Moira felt a twinge of jealousy at Kathy’s height. Her friend stood
a good six inches taller. Moira hated having to get every garment tailored.

“You’re going to show me your secret shopping places? Do I need a special invite or
do they let lowly people like me in?” She flashed a bright smile and gathered her
wildly curly hair in a ponytail.

“If they let me in, I’m sure they’ll love you.” Moira grabbed her purse and did some
quick mental calculations to see how much she could afford to spend and still make
rent. She couldn’t wait to make a real name for herself so she wouldn’t have to worry
about how much a dress cost.

She grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one to Kathy, who was
holding the invitation for Moira’s ten-year high school reunion.

“Going?” she asked.

Moira shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know if I’m up for it.”

“Go. It’s fun. I told you I had a blast at mine last month. If nothing else, you get
to poke fun at all the people who haven’t done as well as you have.”

“High school all over again.” The problem with that was Moira hadn’t done as well
as she’d expected. Although she had a decent job, she hadn’t gotten married and had
no family. Shit, she didn’t even have a boyfriend. It
was
like high school all over again.

“I know that look. You’ve done well for yourself. Just find some really hot guy to
go with you.”

“Easy for you to say. Come on, we have dresses to buy.”

Three stores later, Moira found the perfect gown. The emerald green fabric held just
a hint of shimmer. She only needed to have it shortened. For a change, the bust and
waist both fit, an anomaly for which she was grateful. Usually, she needed to take
in the waist and shorten it, or figure out how to let out some room in the bust, which
was hard, so she tended to opt for sizes much too big for the rest of her body. She’d
gladly give up a couple of cup sizes to add a few measly inches in leg.

As she carried her new dress into her apartment, her phone rang. She juggled the keys
and phone with the dress as she opened the door. “Hey, Ry, what’s up?”

“How’s my favorite sister?”

She rolled her eyes. Ryan liked to think he was the only one who knew when people
were calling for a favor. “Right now, I’m the only sister you have on this continent.
Not too hard to be the favorite. What do you need?”