Название | Cavanaugh Fortune |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Marie Ferrarella |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Cavanaugh Justice |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474013284 |
“Yes, sir,” Alex replied, trying not to clench his jaw too hard.
“Absolutely!” Valri declared happily.
Alex suppressed a sigh. It was going to be a very long investigation.
As they left the outer office and went into the hall to get the elevator, Valri found she was having trouble containing a surge of enthusiasm.
“This is exciting,” she announced, feeling as if her feet were barely touching the ground. Just this morning, she’d been wondering how long it would take her to work her way up to detective, and now here she was, trying the role on for size. It just did not get any better than this.
Reaching the elevator half a step before Alex did, she pressed the up arrow and continued talking to her new partner.
“I mean, it’s not exciting for Hunter. He’s dead. But this is going to be my first case.” That wasn’t quite accurate, so she backtracked a little. “Well, my first case that I get to solve. All the other times, I just got to be there at the start, putting up yellow tape, taking notes, then handing them over to the detectives who took the case.”
She was fairly floating as she continued, taking no notice of the fact that there was no feedback coming from her tall, dark blond, handsome green-eyed partner.
The elevator car arrived, opening its doors slowly.
“But this time around, I get to be a detective. God, I hope I don’t screw up,” she said as she got into the elevator car.
“That makes two of us,” Alex said under his breath. He hadn’t intended for her to hear, but she did. Rather than insult her, it seemed to reinforce what she was thinking.
“You can tell me when I’m out of line,” Valri told him. Then, as if he’d said something to decline this request, she went on to assure him that criticizing her would be all right. “I’m the youngest in my family and I’m used to being criticized, so you won’t hurt my feelings.”
Right now, hurting this effervescent officer’s feelings was the furthest thing from his mind. “Good to know.”
If she heard the sarcasm in his voice, she gave no indication.
“Have you been a detective long?” she asked as the doors again opened on the fifth floor and she fairly bounced out of the elevator.
He spared her a glance. “Longer than you.”
Again, Valri didn’t appear to take any offense at his tone. “Everyone’s been a detective longer than I have,” she said with a laugh that he would have thought was charming if he wasn’t currently being so annoyed at the spot he found himself in.
It wasn’t that he resented getting a new partner, temporarily or otherwise. He’d had a couple already, and besides, it was the chief’s prerogative to pair up anyone he wanted. But what he did resent was the unspoken instruction that he needed to watch over this chattering blue-eyed blonde magpie and make sure that he returned her to the chief at the end of this assignment in the same condition that he’d received her.
That meant he couldn’t strangle her.
Granted, this energized temporary detective was very easy on the eyes, and in another scenario he might have even made a play for her. Beautiful women were a weakness for him even though he changed them a little more frequently than he had his jackets dry-cleaned.
But this wasn’t another scenario, it was this scenario and she was a Cavanaugh, which, drop-dead gorgeous or not, meant hands off unless, of course, he wanted to risk losing those same hands.
The moment he walked into the Homicide Division with her, he saw heads turning in their direction. If he didn’t know better, he would have said it was as if they’d tripped some sort of an invisible wire that immediately set off a silent alarm, heard only by the other homicide detectives who populated the squad room.
Heads turned and conversations slowly died out. Alex knew they weren’t looking at him. It was a given that news traveled approximately at the speed of light around the building.
If he hadn’t already figured it out before, he could see now that his new albatross wasn’t shy. Leaving his side for the moment, she worked the room, waving and saying “hi” to just about everyone and, from all appearances, schmoozing with various people in the department.
Detective Albatross was probably related, in one way or another, to all of them. Which meant that all eyes would be on them—and on him—to see if they were doing a good job.
If he was doing a good job mentoring her.
This was going to be a challenge, Alex thought grudgingly. A definite challenge for him, both as a detective and as a man. He would have to be sharp as the former and very hands-off as the latter.
The first part was not going to be nearly as much of a challenge as the second.
He waited as Valri made the various rounds through the room. He didn’t bother calling her over or saying anything to her until she finally rejoined him.
“I didn’t realize there were so many Cavanaughs in Homicide,” she told him.
“Murder attracts them, I guess,” he quipped. “Now, if you’re finished playing homecoming queen, I’ll show you where your desk is.”
“Brody, are you annoyed with me for some reason?” she asked, following him.
“What possible reason could I have to be annoyed with you?” he asked sarcastically, thinking that would put her off for a little while.
He should have known better.
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking,” she told him.
“I’m not annoyed,” he lied. “Just preoccupied.”
“With the case?” she asked.
He bit his tongue and gave her the appropriate answer, not the real one. “Yeah, with the case.”
She turned her face up to him and smiled. “Then let’s get started.”
He couldn’t strangle her here—or even vent. There were too many witnesses. All he could do was mentally shrug and let it go.
Alex brought her over to his desk. Butted against it was Jake Montgomery’s desk. The contrast between the two work surfaces was like night and day.
When it came to neatness, Alex was definitely not a stickler, but his desk looked like the last word in tidiness when compared with Montgomery’s. His partner’s desk had been officially dubbed no-man’s land the first week the guy had taken it over. Alex used to say that Montgomery never met a scrap of paper he didn’t like.
He had no idea how Montgomery could lay his hands on reports when he needed them, but the man could and he did, each and every time. Alex figured that a little bit of magic was involved, but he asked no questions, afraid of the answer he might get.
Now that he thought of it, the very sight of Montgomery’s desk might make this pseudo-detective turn tail and run.
“That’s your desk,” he told Valri, gesturing at the piece of office furniture hidden beneath piles and piles of papers, files and old candy wrappers. “Computer’s right there—somewhere,” he added since at the moment, the laptop that Montgomery was using just before he landed in the hospital was not visible.
His guess was that it had to be buried somewhere beneath all the various documents.
Valri stood in front of Montgomery’s desk, stunned. She was definitely not a neatness freak, but this was a whole different ball game. She glanced toward her partner to see if he was putting her on. But he looked dead serious.
“How can you tell?” she asked