Cavanaugh on Duty (13 page)

He snorted, knowing that this wasn’t the last of it. People like Kari got things in their head and kept after it no matter what. Approaching it at all different directions, all different angles, until the item finally cracked open and was theirs.

But at least he’d gotten her to drop the subject for now and that was all he was asking for. Just a few short hours of respite.

* * *

Kari debated what her next step should be. Not with the investigation—she knew what to do there—but to get to the bottom of what exactly had transformed the charismatic high school quarterback she remembered into the sullen, brooding man she’d been partnered up with.

She knew she could always go back to Brenda. But she’d already imposed on her enough. Granted that the woman was the Chief of Detectives’ daughter-in-law, which meant that she wasn’t going to get into any trouble on the force unless she killed someone. But she didn’t want to put Brenda on the spot by asking her to delve into closed files that were deemed to be secret and redacted.

Besides, she needed to save the savvy computer tech for bigger things. No, this time around she was going to have to find another venue to obtain her information.

Still chewing on the problem of Fernandez’s drastic transformation, she decided to approach the man who in her opinion had all the answers. If there was an answer to dispense, the call, one way or another, was ultimately his.

Squaring her shoulders and summoning her courage, Kari went to see the Chief of Detectives.

* * *

Brian Cavanaugh was about to finally call it a day. His wife was waiting for him at their favorite restaurant. It was his way of paying her back for putting up with all the long hours that he was on the job and away from home. But then, Lila understood.

He’d met Lila on the force years ago. Eventually, she became his partner and after almost dying in his arms when she was shot by an enraged gunman, Lila was assigned to a desk job. But even there she knew all about the demands that were made on a law enforcement officer, especially a high-ranking one.

In all the years they’d been together, he’d never once heard her complain. But that didn’t mean that there weren’t times when she was rightfully resentful of having to share him with an entire department of men and women—and usually getting the short end of the stick.

So when he saw his brother’s daughter, Kari, standing in the doorway of his office, Brian was surprised as well as somewhat impatient.

With effort he banked down the latter for the moment and said, “I’m on my way out, Kari. Is there something I can do for you?”

Talk about awful timing, she thought with dread.

“I can come back,” she volunteered.

“Is this something that I can handle quickly?” he wanted to know. He’d never liked putting things off if he could help it. He’d learned the hard way that regrets were often tied to procrastination.

“That depends on your answer,” she told him honestly, rather than giving a blanket yes so that he would feel obligated to help her, only to discover that the matter needed more time than he could accommodate.

“On my answer to what?” Brian asked as he sat down behind his desk again. He was prepared to allow her fifteen minutes, the same he would allow any other police officer who came to him. His goal ever since he’d taken on this position was to treat everyone fairly.

“What’s Detective Fernandez’s story?”

He looked at her for a long moment, trying to ascertain exactly what she meant by that. “Which part?”

She stated it as succinctly as she could. “The part that changed him from a popular high school jock who got along with everyone to the scowling, closemouthed man riding around in my car.”

Something Kari had just said caught his attention. “You knew Fernandez before you were introduced the other day?”

Before Esteban had first partnered up with her, she would have said yes immediately. Now she felt she had to qualify her answer just a little.

“I believe I did, yes. But when I knew him, he wasn’t anything like this, so it’s hard for me to be sure. And, with the investigation in full swing, I don’t have the luxury of time to find out if it
is
the same man.” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “It
looks
like him and the name’s the same, but there’s a world of difference between the two. And if it is the same man, I just want to know what happened to change him so drastically.”

Brian nodded, taking in not only her words, but the expression on her face as she said them. “And wondering about this is interfering with your work?”

Was he telling her that it wasn’t any of her business and had no place on the job? She pushed ahead anyway. “Let’s just say I’m having trouble focusing a hundred and ten percent on the case.”

“Why don’t you just ask Fernandez?” he asked. It seemed like the simplest way to go, if somewhat awkward, a situation he was all too familiar with.

“I did,” she insisted. “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Then maybe you should respect his wishes.”

There was more to it than that, and she wanted her uncle to understand that this wasn’t just idle curiosity on her part. “It’s hard to tread lightly when I don’t really know what subject I’m avoiding.”

“Fair enough,” Brian conceded. He didn’t have to look into the matter and get back to her later. He already knew the man’s history. He made it a point to know the backstory for
all
his law enforcement officers when he dealt with them. “When he was away at college, his younger brother, Julio, died of a drug overdose. His stepfather was so grief-stricken, he hunted the drug dealer down and shot him. The dealer’s boss retaliated by killing Fernandez’s mother. His stepfather was sent to prison.

“Esteban felt entirely helpless. The only way he could cope with what had happened was to go deep underground to bring the cartel down. But a week ago, as you know, his cover was blown so we had to pull him out. That didn’t sit too well with him.”

“That part I knew. The rest of it—” She blew out a long breath, shaking her head. “Wow. That seems like too much for one person to handle.”

“My thoughts exactly. I’m surprised that he didn’t just come apart at the seams.” He looked at her with a very intuitive expression on his face. “If anyone can help him come around, you can.”

She doubted it, despite the fact that the compliment felt good. “I think you have entirely too much faith in me, sir.”

“I don’t,” Brian countered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet a beautiful woman for dinner before she gets tired of waiting for me and goes home.”

Kari quickly vacated her seat. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me, Chief,” she said, walking out with him.

“Anytime, Kari. Anytime.”

She felt he meant it. Backup, she thought, was a wonderful thing.

* * *

“What’s going on with you, Pop?” Andrew Cavanaugh asked his father as he came out to the patio carrying two bottles of chilled beer. He handed one to his father, then took a seat next to him. The teak rocker creaked a little as he sank down. Andrew made a mental note to oil the hinges with silicone later.

Shamus cocked a puzzled brow as he regarded his oldest son. Taking a long swig from the bottle first, he asked, “What d’you mean ‘what’s going on?’”

The question was just a little too innocent, his father’s attitude just a wee bit too defensive. He was right, Andrew thought. Something
was
up.

“You look a little off your game, Dad,” he told him, then took a guess at the cause. “The security business not exactly living up to your expectations? Maybe a little too tame for you?”

Shamus laughed as he studied the condensation on the side of the bottle. “I lived in a retirement community in Boca Raton for eight years, Andy.
Anything’s
more exciting than that.”

They’d take it slow, Andrew determined. His father never liked saying anything straight out. “Actually, I’m surprised you waited that long to strike out of that place.” Although, he had to admit that by the end of the seventh year, it looked as if his father had turned over a new leaf and decided that the quiet life was more to his liking.

“‘Strike out?’ Hell, boy, I
ran
away from there.” He grinned, pleased with himself and the action he’d taken in that respect. “Far as I know, those people who ran the place are still looking for me.”

If that was the case, then he would have already received a call from the woman who oversaw the community, asking if he’d seen his father. He had a feeling that the people in charge had breathed a sigh of relief when Shamus had left.

“You might want to go back there,” Andrew suggested, “clear things up, move out your things.”

“Anything of value I had I took with me. Far as I’m concerned, they can have the rest. I don’t intend to set foot in that place again.” For a moment, he paused, watching as the sun began to dip in the sky, preparing to set. Sunrises and sunsets always filled him with wonder. At his age, he was grateful to see each one. “Besides, I’ve got more important things on my mind.”

Now they were getting to it, Andrew thought. “Like what?”

Shamus took another pull from his bottle. “Andy, you ever think about expanding this security firm that you’ve set up?”

Well, he hadn’t seen this coming. “I already have. As the company got more clients, I hired on more guards, more software techs to monitor the security systems.”

“No, not that kind of expanding,” Shamus said with a touch of impatience as he shook his shaggy head.

His father had momentarily lost him. “What other kind is there?”

Warming to his topic, Shamus leaned forward, closer to his son. “Adding another wing to the business,” he said, mystified that Andrew couldn’t see that. “Like private investigations.”

“Are you talking about having private detectives, Pop?” Andrew asked.

Shamus’s face lit up. “Glad to see we’re on the same page,” he declared heartily.

Andrew held his hand up, as if to slow his father down for a bit. “I’m not on a page, Pop, I’m just looking at the title on top.” He’d begun the company with a certain focus in mind, providing decent, affordable security for the average family, and, as far as he was concerned, he was accomplishing that. “Why would I want to have private detectives?”

His father looked at him as if the answer was self-evident. “Well, most of the guys who work for you are retired cops. The way I see it, having a private detective section available to your clients would just be a natural progression of things.”

A hint of amusement played across Andrew’s face. “Oh, you do, do you?”

“Yes, I do,” Shamus affirmed with feeling.

Andrew felt as if he was back on the force, trying to draw reliable information out of a witness. “And just what kind of ‘things’ do you see us investigating?”

Shamus shrugged his wide shoulders, then took another long pull from his bottle.

He was stalling, Andrew thought. Why? For dramatic effect? Or because this was hard for him to talk about?

“Oh, I dunno,” Shamus finally said loftily. “Maybe specialize in locating lost family members, that kind of thing.”

It was time to get to the heart of the matter. His father, now that he thought about it, had the ability to dance around a topic all night. “What’s this really about, Pop?”

“Can’t a father look out for his son’s interest?” Shamus asked, growing defensive again.

“Sure he can,” Andrew responded soothingly. “And I appreciate it, I do.” He eyed his father as he continued. “He can also level with his son, which would be even
more
appreciated.”

Shamus laughed self-consciously. Andrew saw right through his roundabout approach. “Once a cop, always a cop, huh?”

“Something like that,” Andrew conceded. “Now give, Pop. What’s on your mind?
Why
do you need a private investigator? Investigating what?”

Shamus grew quiet, thoughtfully regarding the near empty bottle of beer. He tilted it to and fro, watching the remaining liquid inside move from one side of the bottle to the other. Finally, he asked, “You remember my telling you about your grandfather and grandmother?”

“You told me Grandpa was a homicide detective, that he liked to drink a little more than he should and that was why he and his wife split up.” People took a dim view of divorce back then, usually condemning the woman because it meant that she didn’t try hard enough to keep her marriage together. He knew his father hadn’t had an easy time of it, coming from a broken home. He’d turned out incredibly well-adjusted and kind, given what he’d had to endure.

There was no humor to the smile that was now on his lips. “Your grandfather used to like to drink a lot more than he should,” Shamus corrected. “My mother put up with it as long as she could, and then she just took off,” he said, his voice sounding as hollow as he’d felt at the time of his abandonment.

It was time to call him out, and then end this, Andrew decided. “Okay. Where’s this going, Pop?”

Each word he uttered left a bitter taste on his tongue. “Well, when she took off, my mother took my younger brother with her.”

Very few things surprised Andrew. At this point in his life, he’d seen and heard it all, far more than the average citizen. But this caught him completely off guard.

“You had a younger brother?” Andrew asked, stunned by the words his father had just uttered. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

At first it seemed as if his father hadn’t even heard his question. “At the time I was pretty hurt that she took Jonny and left me. I kept waiting, night after night, for her to come back, to say she’d made a mistake and meant to take me with her instead—or at least too. After a year, I decided she wasn’t coming back, that she’d left me with Dad on purpose because she didn’t want to have anything to do with either one of us.” He looked at Andrew, shame and sadness mingling in his eyes. “I didn’t tell you or your brothers about it because I was ashamed that your grandmother didn’t think I was worth taking with her.”

Andrew didn’t see it that way and it hurt to see how wounded his father was by this even after all these years. “Could have been a lot of reasons why she picked him over you,” he offered. “From what you said, your brother was younger. Maybe he was sickly.”