Cavanaugh's Secret Delivery. Marie Ferrarella

do it again. It was definitely preferable to putting up with a new partner. Besides, if he needed backup, there were always Patterson and Ryan to call in.

      His mind was made up. Until things changed, he was going to be working alone.

      * * *

      “Cavanaugh, get in here,” Lieutenant Jerry Daniels called out the moment Dugan walked back into the Vice squad room.

      He didn’t like the sound of that, Dugan thought. But he couldn’t very well pretend not to have heard the lieutenant and walk out again, not when he was certain that the man had seen him come in.

      With a sigh, he braced himself and then walked into the lieutenant’s office.

      “You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked.

      The words dribbled out of his mouth. He was aware of her the moment he walked in and was doing his best not to stare.

      Even though she had her back to him, the tall, stately blonde sitting in the other chair would have been hard to miss. He could only hope that the woman didn’t have anything to do with his assignment. Maybe she was involved in some kind of a goodwill gesture on the lieutenant’s part, or—

      She turned around to look at him. Recognition was immediate.

      “It’s you.”

      Dugan hadn’t even realized that he’d said the words out loud until the lieutenant looked at him, obviously curious.

      “You two know each other?” the lieutenant asked uncertainly.

      There was no sign of recognition on the woman’s face whatsoever. Either she was one hell of a poker player or she was the victim of a sudden case of amnesia, because it was her, the woman in the alley. He would have known her anywhere. She was the woman he’d helped to give birth...

      If he stood here and insisted that he had been there eight weeks ago, hovering over her in that back alley, coaching her as she pushed out her baby daughter, and she didn’t say anything to back him up, he was going to come across like a complete idiot who was on his way to a nervous breakdown.

      So, for now, he was going to deny that he knew her—or how.

      “No, my mistake, sir,” Dugan said formally. “I thought I recognized your guest here, but I obviously don’t.”

      Daniels nodded, accepting the explanation. “All right, then. If you’re through interrupting me, we can get on with this. Since your partner is temporarily out on medical leave and the two of you weren’t getting anywhere in your investigation anyway,” he said crisply, his words cutting like a knife, “I thought that maybe another angle in this investigation might prove useful.”

      He was getting that feeling again, Dugan thought. That feeling where the back of his neck began to prickle, getting itchy. It happened every time that he felt something was going wrong.

      He told himself he was overreacting.

      “And what angle might that be, sir?” he asked in the calmest, most virtuous voice he could summon, even though he could feel his stomach beginning to tie itself up in knots.

      The look that Daniels shot him told Dugan that his superior thought his tone was a little too innocent. But because there was someone else in the room and he wanted to come off at his best, Daniels was forced to keep his temper.

      So, instead, Daniels just continued with his introduction. “That would be where Ms. O’Keefe would come in.”

      “Ms. O’Keefe,” Dugan repeated. Was that finally her real name or was this just another alias? At this point, he couldn’t be sure. “That would be you?” he asked the woman sitting in the other chair.

      The woman smiled at him. The smile was polite, distant and showed absolutely no sign of any sort of recognition in any manner, shape or form.

      Leaning forward, she extended her hand to him and introduced herself.

      “Toni O’Keefe, investigative journalist,” she told him in case he thought she was part of the police department.

      Dugan never took his eyes off hers. “Detective Dugan Cavanaugh.”

      “Pleased to meet you, Detective Cavanaugh,” Toni said, still smiling that impenetrable smile.

      Daniels looked from his detective to the extremely attractive woman in his office. It was obvious that he seemed to be trying to understand if there was something going on here other than just an exchange of introductions.

      “Ms. O’Keefe, it turns out, is an expert on the history and dealings of the Juarez drug cartel,” Daniels told him.

      “Is that a fact?” Dugan said, pretending that this piece of information was actually interesting to him. “I’m sure it must make for fascinating reading, but right now, I think figuring out what their next move is might be a little more to the point than reading about where they’ve been.”

      He began to get up, but the look on the lieutenant’s face had him silently taking his seat again.

      “Sorry about that,” the lieutenant apologized to Toni.

      Her smile in return was brighter than sunshine. “No offense taken, lieutenant.”

      It became clear to Dugan that the lieutenant was attempting to cull favor with the woman.

      “Ms. O’Keefe’s father was Anthony O’Keefe,” Daniels told Dugan. The name meant nothing to Dugan, but the lieutenant went on as if it should. “There wasn’t a place in the world that journalist wouldn’t go to, a lead he wouldn’t chase down. He was fearless—”

      Dugan was feeling restless and he had no idea just what his part—if any—was in this exchange. “I’m sure he was, lieutenant,” he finally said, gripping the armrests as he got up for a second time, “but I have got work to do—”

      That was when the lieutenant hit him with a line he really wasn’t expecting. “And you’ll do it with Ms. O’Keefe.”

      Dugan looked at Daniels, dumbfounded. While it was true that the lieutenant wasn’t at the top of his field, he wasn’t exactly an idiot, either. What was the man doing?

      “Excuse me, sir?”

      Everything in the rule book said that police work was done by members of the police department. Nowhere did it say that they were to defer to a newshound, or whatever it was that this person wanted to call herself—if she was even who she said she was. He was beginning to have his doubts.

      There was one thing he did know. “She’s not a police officer, sir.” He looked at Daniels, waiting for the man to relent his position.

      “She’s anything I say she is,” Daniels retorted, angry at what he felt was a challenge to his authority. “And right now, she has the clearance to be here and to help us in our investigation, so until such time as I decide it’s no longer beneficial to this department, she is going to be working with you. Have I made myself clear, Detective Cavanaugh?”

      “Perfectly,” Dugan replied, doing his best to remain civil rather than to challenge the man.

      It wouldn’t do him any good anyway. The lieutenant, for reasons he could only begin to guess at, had made up his mind about including Toni O’Keefe in the case. He’d never been all that close to Daniels, who had only been heading up Vice for the last nine months, so maybe there was something he didn’t know about the man—or this woman, for that matter.

      For all he knew, maybe the lieutenant was the father of that baby she’d just had two months ago. Dugan was vaguely aware of the fact that the man was married, but that sort of thing might not have mattered to Daniels in this case.

      At any rate, he was not about to waste time trying to figure out what was going on.

      Instead, he was just going to get out of here and ditch this woman, whatever her game was, the first chance he got.

      “All