Cavanaugh's Bodyguard (7 page)

Bridget tried to relax for a moment. She leaned the back of her head against the headrest, willing the tension out of her body.

Without realizing it, she watched her partner as he walked toward the restaurant’s entrance and mused—not for the first time—that Josh had a really cute butt for someone who could, at times, be a real pain in the exact same area.

One of life’s mysteries, she supposed.

* * *

Their long afternoon, spent talking to Karen’s coworkers at The Times of Your Life, turned out to be as fruitless as their morning had been before it. They returned to the squad room with nothing more to go on than they already had when they first left. The victim, everyone had sworn, was someone who no one would have wanted to hurt.

Until someone had.

Bridget sat back and stared at her handiwork. The bulletin board was filled with the photographs and names of all of the Lady Killer’s previous unfortunate victims. And now Karen Anderson had unwillingly joined their ranks.

What were they missing?

Ten red-haired young women in their twenties all stared back at her, their smiles frozen in time, all silently begging to be avenged and to have their killer stopped and brought to justice.

Who the hell is he and how can he possibly sleep at night?
she asked herself.

In the next breath, she silently mocked herself for even asking the question. The Lady Killer undoubtedly slept just fine because he did not operate by the same set of rules that the rest of them did.

As normal people did.

Because he wasn’t normal.

That was the big thing she had to remember. The Lady Killer thought and reacted on a far different plane from that of either she or Josh.

“He got started early this time,” Bridget realized, thinking out loud. She could feel Josh watching her, so she elaborated for his benefit. “This is February second. Most likely he killed Karen last night, which was the first day of the month. Last year we didn’t find a body until the eighth.”

He remembered. The maimed body behind the gas station store. The girl had just turned twenty the week before.

“Didn’t mean that there wasn’t one,” he pointed out grimly.

She didn’t agree. “No, this guy likes to show off his handiwork. It’s like he’s bragging, telling us we can’t catch him. That he’s smarter than we are.” She turned away from the bulletin board and looked at Josh. “Maybe it’s someone who washed out from the academy?”

Josh tried to follow her line of thinking. “So he’s showing us that he can get away with murder to make us pay for not hiring him?” Saying it out loud made it seem really far-fetched.

She didn’t want to let go of the new angle just yet, but it belonged in a different light.

“No, he’s reliving getting even with the woman who turned him down—that’s his primary driving force. But every which way he turns, he gets rejected. His feelings toward the police department might be no different from what he feels for the woman who turned him down. Thumbing his nose at the efforts of the police to find him might just be a big bonus feature for him.”

Josh turned it over in his head. “Worth a shot, I guess,” he agreed. “But if we’re going to go through old files,” which was what he assumed she was getting at, “we’re going to need some extra people and the budget’s tight.”

He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. Lieutenant Howard had made a point of letting them all know that there was no more money for overtime but if extra hours needed to be put in, he expected that to be done—with no extra compensation.

“Don’t worry. If Howard says no to putting at least a couple of extra people on this, I know who to ask,” she promised. “Someone who can see beyond a dollar sign and fostering his own ‘legend.’”

Josh grinned. He didn’t have to ask what she was thinking. “That’s my girl.”

A quick, warm salvo shot through her in response to his words and the way he looked at her as he said it before she had a chance to shut it down.

What the hell was
that
all about? she upbraided herself impatiently.

She didn’t have time for this.

Chapter 5

“Y
ou think I’m going to endanger my career by going out on a limb and authorizing overtime for you and your little playmate here just so that you can find some dirt to tarnish the police department’s good name in the community?” Lieutenant Howard demanded. His voice rose in direct correlation to the pulsating blue vein that snaked its way along his forehead.

It amazed Bridget just how obstinate her new acting supervisor could be. Determined to cross her t’s and dot her i’s, she had gritted her teeth and deliberately gone through the proper channels—in this case, that would be Howard—to make her request for more manpower. They needed help to plow through the mountain of files she was anticipating—once she and Josh began going over all the academy’s rejects from three to five years ago.

The request had momentarily stunned the preening lieutenant into complete silence. He’d come out of his office to ask for a status report on the investigation, apparently expecting to hear that they were closing in on a suspect. Instead, he’d been hit with a request for exactly what he’d already told his squad he had no intentions of allowing.

The vein across his forehead pulsed harder.

The second he’d opened his mouth, the very faint hope that he might actually be reasonable and consider her request went down in flames. Bridget had to admit that it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Well, at least no one could accuse her of going over the man’s head without first giving him a chance to work with her.

Still, she felt she had to straighten out Howard’s misconception. “No, not overtime. I’m asking for extra people. And it’s not to make the department look bad, it’s to find out who the department was intuitive enough not to hire in the first place.”

Bridget searched the lieutenant’s face for some indication that she’d gotten through. There was none. Apparently her words weren’t penetrating the force field around his brain.

“The answer’s no. You and Youngblood put in whatever time you have to get this guy behind bars, and you do it because you’re supposedly good cops, not because you think you’re going to line your pockets and your buddies’ pockets with extra cash.” Drawing himself up to his full five feet ten inches, Howard glared down at her. “Now, did I make myself clear?”

She met his glare without flinching or looking away. Bridget was not easily intimidated, thanks to growing up with four brothers.

“Perfectly,” she bit off.

“Good. Now get this damn case solved and off my desk, and I mean like
yesterday
, you hear me?” Howard ordered. Then, fuming, he turned to go back to his office.

Bridget squared her shoulders, hating the fact that she’d gotten a dressing-down in front of all the other detectives, as well as Josh. The latter was standing beside her and she could literally
feel
his anger. Despite his easygoing manner, she knew that Josh had even less regard for Howard than she did. And, whatever else his faults were, the man was protective of her, as she was of him. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together.

“People on the first floor can hear you,” she answered under her breath, but not exactly as quietly as she could have.

Howard’s back stiffened and spun around on his heel. Five strides brought him back to her.

“What was that?” he demanded angrily, glaring down at her.

“I said I hear you, Lieutenant,” she replied, doing her best to sound calm as she raised her eyes to his.

He appeared to weigh his options as he slanted a glance around the immediate area. She could almost hear what he was thinking. That the squad room was too full for him to say what he wanted to say to her. She had a feeling that he’d save it for another time when he had her alone in his office.

“Damn straight you hear me,” he finally bit off curtly. “Just because you found out you have some kind of made-up connection to the chief of detectives, don’t think that makes you entitled to any special treatment. It doesn’t mean a damn
thing
in my book.”

As the lieutenant ranted, she realized that Josh had risen to his feet behind the man and was about to confront him. Bridget got up, moving so that she managed to block her partner with her back, preventing him from easily reaching Howard.

“Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll both get to work!” Howard shouted at her, glared at Josh and then stormed away.

“He shouldn’t talk to you like that,” Josh growled, frustrated. “Why’d you stop me?” he asked. “That S.O.B. needs to have some sense, not to mention manners, shaken into his head.”

“You won’t get an argument out of me,” she agreed. “But having you put on suspension or brought up on charges of insubordination isn’t going to help me or teach that pompous ass anything,” she pointed out. The lieutenant’s ego made it impossible for him to absorb anything.

Josh shoved his hands into his pockets, fisting them as exasperation rippled through him. “Maybe not, but it sure would have felt good getting things off my chest.” Fuming, Josh looked over her head toward Howard’s office. The latter had closed the door behind him and now appeared to be staring at his computer.

Or, more likely, he was trying to observe them by pretending to be occupied.

Furious, Josh looked back at Bridget. “How can you be so calm?”

She wasn’t calm, not by a long shot. But letting her anger show through wouldn’t get her anywhere at this point, so she internalized it. Externally she was the picture of serenity.

“You know that old saying?” she asked innocently. “The one that goes, ‘Don’t get angry, get even’?” It was obvious that was what she had in mind.

A smile spread across Josh’s lips. Just for the briefest of moments, Bridget paused, allowing herself to take in the feeling that his smile generated inside of her.

The next moment, she was aware of what she was doing and quickly tamped everything down.

Everything but her next move.

“What do you have in mind?” Josh prodded. He couldn’t think of anything he would have liked better than to take Howard down a few pegs. Well, maybe a few things, but none that he could do here.

Bridget was trying very hard to move past the putdown she’d just received from the acting lieutenant. With any luck,
he
would be a thing of the past soon.

“What I should have done instead of wasting my time talking to Howard and his oversize ego.”

Yes! She was finally going to see the chief of detectives, Josh thought. Given the way he knew she felt about getting things done on her own, this was tantamount to a last resort for her. His partner didn’t like asking for favors or help. But this wasn’t just a minor dustup; this was important. A lot was at stake here and it couldn’t be placed in jeopardy just because the acting lieutenant had turned out to be a taller version of Napoleon.

“Want some backup?” he asked her.

Bridget shook her head. She didn’t want him being collateral damage. “Thanks for the offer, but if this thing blows up on me, one of us needs to stay with the case to be able to get whoever gets put in my place up to speed.”

“Nobody could take your place,” Josh told her and although there was a smile on his lips as he said it, his voice was dead serious. She looked at him, somewhat surprised, not quite sure what to make of his tone. Or the corresponding warm feeling his words had created within her.

“Someone might have to. Howard wants my head on a pike,” she pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter what
he
wants,” Josh assured her with conviction. He fell into place beside her as she walked out of the squad room. “I’ve got your back, just like always.”

It wasn’t a statement, it was a promise.

She didn’t bother trying to talk Josh out of coming with her. Or to point out that he was putting himself out on the same limb. There were things Josh could be kidded out of and things that he couldn’t. This was one of those things that fell under the latter heading.

So all she could do was say “Thanks,” which she did, and pray that everything would turn out.

She prayed hard.

* * *

Chief of Detectives Brian Cavanaugh prided himself on knowing everyone who worked for him not only by sight, but by name as well. He also made it a point to be aware of their records and achievements, both good and bad. He considered them all members of his team. To Brian, they were more than just badge numbers, they were people.
His
people.

It was no small source of pride that his three sons had worked their way high up through the ranks because of their own efforts, not because of anything that he had done for them. They would have never asked him to intervene on their behalf and he would have never interfered in any matter between a detective and his or her superior—unless there was some sort of injustice.

In like manner, Brian was acutely aware of walking a very thin, narrow line every day that he picked up his shield and tucked it into his pocket. And he had sworn to himself that should the day someday come when he, knowingly or unknowingly, stepped off that narrow path, he would turn in that shield and walk away.

He was proud of the fact that, as of yet, that day had not arrived. He was determined that it never would.

Lost now in thought, searching for a word that persisted in eluding him, a noise penetrated through the fog around him. Brian glanced up from his report. The knock on the door seemed designed to give him a reprieve, however minor. He took it gladly.

Rotating his shoulders to alleviate some stiffness, he called out, “Come in.”

The next moment, he saw Bridget sticking her head in. She looked at him a little hesitantly.

Brian smiled warmly. He’d taken an interest in her, the way he had in a good many other detectives, when she had first gotten her shield. He’d known her to be a hard worker even before her true identity—like the identities of her siblings—had come to light for all of them. He and Bridget had exchanged a few words since her father’s connection to the rest of them had become apparent, but he sensed that she wasn’t comfortable in this new role fate had given her.