Cavanaugh's Bodyguard (8 page)

And now she’d come to him with something that was obviously bothering her. He found himself growing very curious. He rose to his feet, a habit instilled in him by his mother.

“Bridget,” he said warmly, her very name serving as a greeting. “Come in.”

She remained in the doorway, still uncertain. “Are you busy?”

“Not for you,” he assured her. And then he saw that she’d brought her partner with her. For backup? he wondered. Or was there another reason they had both come to him together? He searched his memory quickly, then remembered that while he was more than satisfied with the performance of Bridget and Josh’s division, the man who had been placed temporarily in charge left a few things to be desired—such as actual leadership qualities. He believed in giving people a chance to prove themselves in new situations, but he had been far too laid-back when it came to Jack Howard. He suspected that the man really didn’t belong in charge of other people. For one thing, the lieutenant lacked a very important leadership quality: empathy.

“To what do I owe this unexpected visit?” Brian asked, sitting down again behind his desk. He gestured toward the two chairs that faced his desk. “Take a seat, please.”

Both she and Josh immediately did as the chief requested. Bridget placed her hands on the armrests, giving the impression that she was ready to spring up to her feet at the slightest provocation. Tension fairly radiated from her.

“It’s not going as fast as we’d like,” Bridget said, responding to the chief’s question, measuring her words out slowly in an attempt to make sure that she wouldn’t say the wrong thing. She didn’t want the chief of detectives to think that she was some flighty person running to him with a complaint rather than going through proper channels.

Yet here she was, presenting her case. Proper channels were all well and good when there was a great deal of time to spare. But there wasn’t. She just couldn’t get away from the feeling that they—and the next victim—didn’t have a great deal of time left. That their time—like the days in the month of February—was exceedingly limited.

The Lady Killer was out there somewhere, getting ready to strike again. Soon. They needed to find him before he could, they just
had
to. And if that meant ticking off the lieutenant by going over his head after he turned her down, then that was what she had to do if she was ever going to live with her conscience.

Brian leaned forward and folded his hands before him on his desk. “All right, I’m listening,” he encouraged patiently.

“The fact is, Chief, we need more bodies. Live ones,” she clarified when the grizzly scenario her words suggested echoed back in her head. “This particular serial killer only strikes in the month of February,” she pointed out, although she had a feeling that the chief was already quite aware of that. The man was aware of
everything
, to the point that it was almost eerie.

“And if the past is any example,” Josh said, picking up the thread from his partner, “with each year, he tries to increase his number of victims. The first year he killed three women, last year he killed five. This year he already killed one woman and there are twenty-seven days left to go.”

There was no need to have the dots connected for him. Brian had already had his aide bring him a copy of the file on the Lady Killer. He’d gone over it first thing this morning. His breakfast had weighed heavily on his stomach by the time he’d finished reading.

“Go on,” he told the two people sitting before him.

Bridget spoke up first, not because she wanted the attention, but because, if this backfired, she was ready to take the blame. And if word got back to Howard that the request had been made over his head, she didn’t want Josh to be the one to take the flak. She was the lead detective on this case. Besides, Josh just might get it into his head to turn in his badge if Howard hassled him, while she would dig her heels in even further.

“We need more people working this case, sir,” she stated emphatically.

“I’m in complete agreement,” Brian assured her. Something like this, that had gone on for more than a year even if it was only during the length of one month each time, deserved to have the attention of more than just two detectives. The fact that it didn’t raised questions. “Why
aren’t
there more of you on it?” he asked.

She would have loved to bring a great many issues to his attention. There was the fact that Howard wanted to keep his budget figures reined in while demanding that all his detectives put in extra hours. That would make it appear as if cases were being solved by his division in a minimum of time since only the core hours were logged in.

There was also the fact that since Howard had come in morale had dropped to a dangerously low point. But too many complaints might come across to the chief as her being petulant. The case was too important for her to risk possibly losing the chief’s goodwill.

She worded her answer as diplomatically as she could. “I don’t think that the lieutenant wants it to appear as if he’s exceeding his budget on some momentary whim.”

Brian’s eyes narrowed at the description. “Taking down a serial killer is hardly a whim in my book,” he responded. “It’s being a good cop.” He looked from his niece to her partner. “Have you found any suspects yet?”

Bridget ran her tongue along her lips that had grown very dry in the last few minutes. “Well, in theory,” she began.

“And this theory is?” Brian prodded.

Bridget blew out a breath. Here goes nothing. “That whoever the killer is, he might also be trying to get even with the police department, making them regret that they didn’t hire him.”

That was a new angle. But Brian had learned long ago not to appear surprised by anything while on the job, so, to the two people in his office, he looked as if he took this new information in stride.

His expression gave nothing away as he asked, “You think that the killer is someone who tried to get into the academy?”

“It does seem likely,” Josh told him. “The killer never tried to hide any of the bodies of his victims. Instead, he always made sure to leave them out in plain sight, as if he was taunting the police with his kills.”

“According to the ME’s report,” Bridget added, “these women were all killed late at night. Depending on where, that gave the killer plenty of time to either move the bodies where they couldn’t be found or get rid of them altogether. But he didn’t. It’s like he
wants
the police department to see his work.”

“He’s rubbing our noses in it,” Brian summarized.

Enthused because the chief wasn’t dismissing their theory out of hand, Bridget laid out her plan. “Exactly. I’d like to go through all the old academy applications from about three, four years ago, limiting the search to strictly the ones who didn’t wind up graduating for one reason or another.”

Brian nodded, seeing no reason to deny her request. “Do it.” He noticed the way Bridget suddenly caught her lower lip between her teeth. The unconscious action reminded him of Janelle. His daughter had the same habit when she debated whether or not to bring something to light. “What?” he asked encouragingly.

“We could certainly use some extra people to make this go faster.”

Brian didn’t see what the problem was. “Get them,” he instructed. “Borrow them from other departments if you have to.”

She searched for a way to delicately approach what she was about to say next without making it sound as if she was being disloyal to her department—or the man in charge of it. This being diplomatic was
hard
. As a rule, she liked speaking her mind, not tiptoeing through invisible minefields.

When she paused, Brian read between the lines. His days as a detective were not so far in the past that he couldn’t remember what it was like to have to rein himself in and make sure he didn’t get ahead of himself and step on toes that were very capable of kicking back.

“I’ll inform Lieutenant Howard of my decision to allot extra manpower for a task force. This case is long overdue for a task force,” he added.

Since the unofficial “meeting” appeared to have come to an end, Brian rose to his feet. Bridget and Josh quickly followed suit.

“Thank you for filling me in on the case,” Brian said amiably, walking them to the door. “And don’t worry,” he added conspiratorially, “your names won’t come up.”

Bridget paused half a second to look at him. For that split second, he wasn’t the chief. Instead, for the first time since she’d learned the startling news about her father and who they all actually were, Brian Cavanaugh was her uncle. He was family, family beyond the blue uniform that made them so.

She nodded at his words. “I wasn’t worried,” Bridget told him.

Brian smiled. There was a great deal about this one that reminded him of the way his daughter, Janelle, had been just a few short years ago. Dedicated and so very intent on hiding any uncertainties and insecurities that she might have. Bridget, apparently, had yet to learn that those insecurities didn’t diminish her and surmounting them was what made her the person she was.

“I know,” he replied. And then he winked at Josh, as if taking him into his confidence, and told Bridget, “I was talking to your partner.”

With that, he closed his door and returned to his desk. Before reaching for the phone to call Howard and inform the man that he wanted a task force set up and was making an allotment in the budget for it, he thought back to the partner he’d had even before he’d gone on to earn his shield.

Best damn partner anyone could ask for, he thought, the corners of his mouth curving fondly. At the time, he couldn’t do anything about the way he felt. Both he and his partner, Lila, were married at the time. To other people.

But if something is meant to be, it happens, and every day he thanked God that it had happened to him.

Wouldn’t surprise him if Bridget and her partner wound up the same way. They had that look about them, even if they didn’t realize it yet.

Brian dialed Howard’s extension and sat back in his chair.

Chapter 6

“I’
d really watch my step if I were you, Bridget.”

The word of warning, uttered in a raspy low voice by Gary Cox, one of three detectives who had been loaned out to her division for the duration of the Lady Killer investigation, had Bridget looking up from her computer uncertainly. Cox had paused by her desk on the pretext of searching for something in the file he was holding.

“What do you mean?” she asked quietly.

His eyes still down, Cox pushed his rimless reading glasses up on the bridge of his nose. It was a losing battle. “I’ve worked with Jack Howard before the guy was kicked upstairs and made lieutenant. Thinks nothing of throwing people under the bus if that somehow helps elevate him or gets him seen in a better light. I hear you’re the reason this task force exists. That can’t sit well with him.”

“You know better than that, Cox,” Josh said mildly, coming up behind his partner and facing the other detective. “Cavelli is a detective, same as you and me. A lowly detective doesn’t have the clout to get a task force put together. That kind of authority has to come from on high.”

Cox looked at them knowingly. “My point exactly. You went over Jack Howard’s head—not that anyone could blame you,” he added quickly. “Man’s a showboating jackass. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s gonna be watching every move you make.”

Bridget nodded, accepting Cox’s words for what they were: a friendly warning. “Then I’d better make sure that all my moves are entertaining,” she told him with a bright smile.

Cox pushed his glasses up his long, thin nose again. “Yeah,” he agreed, an appreciative note in his voice as his eyes quickly gave her frame a once-over. “I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem for you. Right, Youngblood?” he asked, glancing over to her partner.

Josh wasn’t smiling. “Don’t you have files to go through?” he asked the older man. “Because if you’re done with your share, I’ve got a ton more for you to review, seeing as how you’re so quick and all.”

Cox held his hands up in blatant surrender. “I’m going, I’m going,” he protested cheerfully. “I meant no offense,” were his parting words.

Bridget turned her chair halfway around so that she could get a better look at Josh. The irritated note in his voice was unlike him. She knew if she said that, it would only get her partner’s back up, so instead she resorted to a general observation.

“You sound like someone who’s in real need of a coffee break.”

In response he raised the two tall, covered containers he had brought back with him from the shop across the street. She’d been so preoccupied, she hadn’t even noticed he had them, Bridget realized. She needed to relax herself.

“What I need—what
we
need,” Josh emphasized, “is a break in the case.”

“No argument there.” The man was preaching to the choir. “But with all these extra people helping out, we’re bound to make headway a lot faster than just on our own.”

“We’d better, or else Howard’s going to want our blood,” Josh said.

Placing Bridget’s coffee—extra light, extra sugar; he had no idea why she bothered calling it coffee—container on her desk, he went around to his own desk and planted himself in his chair. He removed the lid and took a long sip of the midnight-black brew. He could feel his pulse speed up even as the dark, hot liquid wound its way down his throat and into his bloodstream.

“My blood,” Bridget corrected her partner. “Cox is right. The lieutenant knows that I’m the one who asked the chief for help.”

He looked at her over the rim of the large container, wisps of steam rising up into the air like a magical genie that had just been released.

“As I recall,” he said pointedly, “there were two of us in the chief’s office the other day.”

She grinned. At times, the man was downright sweet, although she knew he’d really balk at that description when it was applied to his professional life. But that didn’t make it any less true.

“Only because you insisted on tagging along,” she reminded him. “I’m the one who made the request to the chief and I’m the one who’ll take the fall.” Her blue eyes seemed to crinkle as she added, “But thanks for the thought.”