Mission: Cavanaugh Baby (15 page)

“No armchair psych,” he countered mildly. “Just common sense.”

The manager reappeared with a list in her hand that she held out to him. Accepting it, Shane thanked the woman.

Abigail waved her hand at his words. “You can thank me by telling them that one of your computer techs got it from some cyber database and not me,” she requested, lowering her voice so that the two customers near the front didn’t overhear her. “We have a decent-size clientele, but in these rough times, we can’t afford to lose
any
of our customers—which just might happen if they find out that their privacy has been invaded.”

“Everyone’s privacy has been invaded,” Shane pointed out, folding the paper and placing it into his coat pocket. “Everything’s accessible with a little effort. You just made it easier for us. But don’t worry, we’ll be discreet. My partner here is the last word in discretion,” he attested, nodding at Ashley.

The manager smiled and looked as if she was somewhat relieved. “Now get that son of a bitch who killed that poor baby,” she instructed.

* * *

“Why did you tell that woman that I was your partner?” Ashley asked the moment they were out of the boutique.

He looked mildly surprised by the question. “Because right now, you are. And who knows? The way the department plays musical partners these days, you might very well be my partner once this plays out.”

Shane had called his partner, currently on disability, a number of times since the shooting to see how he was doing and also to inform him that the wedding was off.

Wilson had commiserated with him over the blow. The last call had come from him, and he had let Shane know that he might not be coming back after all. His wife was afraid that the next time he was shot, he’d wind up lying in a coffin, not a hospital bed.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, Shane. I really am, but LouAnne’s insistent.” He’d paused during that last call and then went on to say, “You and me had a really good thing going there for a while, didn’t we?”

Never one to give up easily, Shane had said, “Well, don’t play taps on the partnership just yet.” But even as he’d said it, he’d had a feeling that the final curtain on their collaboration was coming down.

Fast.

“Maybe so,” Ashley was saying to him now, regarding his belief that she could wind up being his partner. “But I’ve got a long way to go toward getting my shield.”

“Maybe not as long a way as you think. I’ve got some pull with the chief of D’s,” he told her with a wink.

She didn’t know all that much about the people who ran the department, but she did know this. “He doesn’t do shortcuts,” she pointed out.

At least, that was what she’d heard. According to everyone, Brian Cavanaugh was a man of integrity who couldn’t be bribed or threatened into doing anything. It had to come from his sense of honor. She could live with that.

More importantly, she could even admire that.

“No, he doesn’t do shortcuts,” Shane agreed. “But he does keep an eye on the men and women he thinks have more potential than the rest of the officers. You wouldn’t be temporarily filling a detective’s spot if you were just average or adequate at your job.”

She sincerely doubted that the chief even knew her name, much less anything else about her.

“But I’m in Animal Control,” she reminded him, and they both knew what the rest of the departments thought of the people who worked in Animal Control—that they were just a little better than trained chimpanzees. She didn’t have to go into detail.

“Yeah,” he agreed, a deadpan expression on his face. “And a lot of the people you’ll be dealing with are animals.”

Ashley laughed then and, as before, he found that he liked the way that sounded and the way it softened her features. Each time that happened, he found her even more appealing than the last time.

Because they were stopped at a light, Shane was able to look at her for longer than if they were moving. He took full advantage of the opportunity.

“Trying to memorize my features so you can pick me out of a line-up?” she asked, still looking straight ahead through the windshield. The countryside was beautiful, but after a bit, its sameness was growing to be somewhat monotonous.

“No, just trying to memorize what you look like when you’re actually smiling, since you don’t seem to do that very often.”

“There’s a reason for that. I haven’t found all that much to smile about in the past twenty-five years,” she told him matter-of-factly.

It wouldn’t be until much later that Shane realized that that was the moment he decided it was his mission in life to change that for her.

Chapter 14

T
he woman in the nursery sat in the rocking chair, her body hunched forward, curled almost into a ball. She was struggling against defeat. Struggling to rise above the noise assaulting her.

Her hands were over her ears, covering them.

It didn’t help.

She could still hear it. Still hear the crying. The endless, pathetic crying.

She didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to feel the anger that was bubbling up inside her, ready to spill out. But the sobbing infant was giving her no choice.

And no rest.

She hadn’t rested since she’d brought the baby home. Hadn’t even had any time for the others, the way she had before.

Soon they might start crying, too, even though they had always been such good infants.

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded, looking malevolently toward the noise coming from the newest crib. “I’ve fed you, changed you, rocked you. You’re supposed to be okay now. You’re not behaving the way you’re supposed to,” she accused the infant.

Her words made no impression.

The noise continued.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Everyone always maintained that infants cried for a reason. They were either hungry or wet or sometimes sick or in some sort of pain.

This one didn’t want to eat. Everything she ate only backed up and came out again, or at least it did after a point.

The words echoed again in her brain.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

She knew that. Hadn’t she been a nurse in the maternity ward all those years, handling newborns? She
knew
how they behaved. If that stupid, stupid woman hadn’t made such a fuss in the hospital, claiming that she was trying to take her baby from her, she would have
still
been working there, at the hospital. She was certain that she would be. And then maybe she could have had a chance to ask one of the other nurses—or even a doctor—what was wrong with her baby.

It was better to ask a nurse because nurses knew more than doctors. Everyone knew that. Nurses worked the front lines while the doctors all clustered in the rear, issuing orders and occupying themselves with their golf game scores.

Useless people, she thought, frowning.

But now, for some reason, she had no access to anyone from the hospital. Nobody was returning her calls, no matter how many messages she left with the operator or on the answering machine when even the operator didn’t pick up.

Why weren’t they calling back?

She looked up, turning her head toward the new crib she’d purchased for this newest infant she’d brought into her life. Her head was splitting, and she could barely keep her eyes open.

The pain was getting worse, throbbing throughout her head.

“Why can’t you be quiet like your sisters? They know when to stop crying. Why don’t you?”

In response, the infant only wailed louder.

The woman took in a deep breath, willing herself to calm down.

The next moment she was on her feet, shuffling over to the source of all the discord within the nursery.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I know you’re not feeling well, and I shouldn’t be raising my voice at you this way. It’s just that it’s been a long time since I heard so much crying, and I forgot just how much it got on my nerves. Your sisters are quiet. I thought you would be, too.

“I’ll be more patient, I promise. But you have to try to stop crying, understand?” Her voice was shaky as she continued. “Otherwise, I don’t know if I can be responsible for the way I react. I don’t want to do anything bad to you, but you’re peeling away all my nerves.”

Her words had no effect on the infant she was addressing. If anything, the crying just grew steadily louder.

Hovering over the infant, leaning over the railing, she raised her hand, ready to strike, ready to do anything to make the noise finally stop.

At the last moment she backed away and grabbed the figure lying in the crib to her left. She clutched Adele against her ample chest. Just feeling her soft skin made her start to calm down.

“C’mon, Adele,” she said to the tiny bundle in her arms. “Let’s get out of here before I do something I can’t undo.”

Adele responded by trying to grasp her finger. The woman smiled as she exited the nursery. “You always know how to cheer me up, Adele. I’m sorry I brought Sara into our lives. She’s keeping you up, isn’t she?”

Adele just continued holding on to her finger.

* * *

If Andrew Cavanaugh looked surprised to see the young man standing at his front door, he gave no indication. Instead he greeted Shane the way he did all the members of his family: with warmth and cheer.

“C’mon in. It looks like it’s about to pour any minute,” he proclaimed. “The sky looks positively angry.” Andrew glanced at the ominous streaks of dark gray and navy one last time before he closed the door. And then he asked the question he was most known for. “Hungry?”

Shane laughed. Incredible. His father had been right on the money. He’d thought that it was a joke. Until now, of course. “He told me you’d say that.”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that, Shane,” Andrew told him. “We’ve got a lot of ‘hes’ in the family.”

Shane looked at him in surprise. “You know who I am?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Andrew asked, mildly amused that the young man would think that he didn’t.

“Like you said, there are a lot of ‘hes’ in the family,” Shane pointed out. On top of that, most of the men had the same dark hair, the same light green eyes. That made differentiation difficult.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tell one from the other,” Andrew laughed. “My eyesight’s not failing, and neither is my mind. I’m not that old, boy.”

“Didn’t mean to imply that you were, sir.” That wasn’t exactly the way one went about setting the stage to ask for a favor, and he did want a favor. More than he first realized, now that he was actually about to ask. “And it was my dad who said that the first thing you’d do once you opened the door was to ask me if I wanted something to eat.”

Andrew led the way into the kitchen out of habit. The kitchen was the place that he most frequently conducted any sort of business, now that he was no longer the chief of police.

He wasn’t alone, Shane realized. The most senior member of the family, Shamus Cavanaugh, was there, as well, having coffee and a pastry that Shane assumed was homemade.

The family patriarch nodded at Shane as he came in behind Andrew.

“Do you?” Andrew asked, turning around to face him. “Want something to eat?” he repeated when Shane looked at him with a trace of confusion.

The confusion vanished as Shane shook his head. The last thing he was thinking about was eating. Hunger had no place here. “No, sir, I’m good.”

Shamus was openly studying him as Shane came to the table.

“Which one are you?” he asked. “I’m not like him,” he explained, nodding at his oldest son. “I haven’t learned to keep all the faces straight yet. You were all a lot younger when I left for that miserable retirement hellhole in Florida.”

“It wasn’t a hellhole, Dad,” Andrew said patiently. It had been his father’s idea to retire to Florida in the first place, but he and Brian had checked the place out before their father had initially moved there. The reports from relatives of residents had been glowing. “It just wasn’t exciting enough for the likes of you.”

Shamus laughed dryly. “Now there’s an understatement. Bunch of old people sitting around, listening to their bones creak. Life’s too short to waste time like that,” the older man complained. He looked accusingly at Andrew as he nodded toward Shane. “I still don’t know which one this is.”

Shane leaned over, offering his hand to the older man. He was surprised at how firm the handshake was. Older or not, the man’s grip was still strong. “I’m Shane, sir.”

Bushy eyebrows drew together in a single wavy, puzzled line. He looked at Andrew again. “Which one does he belong to?”

“He’s one of Sean’s sons, Dad,” Andrew told him patiently, pouring a large mug of exceptionally strong coffee.

“Sean. The new guy,” Shamus said, more for his own benefit than for anyone else’s.

“Not exactly the new guy,” Andrew countered. “But yes, for argument’s sake, he’s the new guy. Here,” he said to Shane, pushing the steaming mug into his hand. Taking his nephew’s free hand, he deliberately placed it around the mug, as well. “You’re going to need this,” Andrew hinted, slanting a telltale glance toward his father.

“Don’t go filling his head with nonsense,” Shamus warned, knowing exactly what his son was saying to the newcomer. Turning toward his grandson, Shamus told him, “He’s just bent out of shape because he can’t keep up with me.”

“Don’t mind him,” Andrew advised Shane as he topped off his own mug of coffee. “He loves an audience. Now then, what is it that I can do for you?” he asked his nephew. “You definitely didn’t come over to listen to the old man rant.”

“Speak for yourself!” Shamus grumbled, raising his voice.

Andrew smiled. He’d gotten good at tuning his father out since the man had returned from Florida. It was a handy skill, given that they were now both engaged in trying to track down his father’s long-lost brother. His father and uncle had lost track of one another more than half a century ago, when their parents had gone through an acrimonious split, each taking a son with them.

“So, what brings you here on such an inclement day?” Andrew asked.

Shane tested the waters slowly. “Dad said that you like to throw parties.”

“Like to?” Shamus echoed, a dry laugh escaping, sounding almost like a cackle. “Does the Mona Lisa look like she’s fighting trapped gas?”

“Eloquent as always, Dad,” Andrew commented with a shake of his head. “But in his own unique way, what your grandfather just said was right. There
is
nothing I like better than throwing a party for the people whom I hold dear.” Andrew got comfortable on the counter stool. “What did you have in mind?”

Shane figured he needed to clear something up first. “Well, this isn’t exactly for someone you know.”

Andrew inclined his head. He was not a stickler about things. “Is it for someone
you
know?”

“Yes, sir, it is.” Not only that, but it was for someone he was hoping that he would get to know a whole lot better, he admitted to himself.

“Same thing,” Andrew assured him. “Any particular theme or reason for the party?” he asked then, eyeing his nephew a bit more closely. “You’re not looking to throw an engagement party for yourself and a lucky young lady, are you, Shane?”

The question threw Shane for a second, and all he could do was stare at his newly found uncle. “What? Um, no, it’s not like that,” he told the former chief, recovering. “That is, I mean, that’s not the kind of party I was looking to have.”

There was a strange, rather knowing smile curving his uncle’s lips before Andrew gestured for him to lean forward. When he complied, Andrew told him, “Maybe you should start at the beginning. I’ll try not to interrupt,” Andrew promised him with an encouraging wink.

Shamus laughed, clearly entertained by this halting exchange. “Good luck with that,” he said to Shane by way of an aside.

Andrew looked at the older man. “That goes for you, too, Dad. You interrupt and make more noise than an oncoming train.”

“The hell I do. I’m quieter than a church mouse,” Shamus responded, pretending to focus on the contents of his own coffee mug. The sly glance he directed at Shane gave him away.

Shane smiled to himself just before he got started. Unknown to the other two men, this exchange just served to reinforce the thought that this was exactly what his temporary partner needed to be exposed to.

Getting comfortable, Shane began at the beginning, just as Andrew had told him to.

* * *

Ashley looked at the man it seemed that fate had thrown her together with. They had methodically been going down the list of the baby boutique clients who had favored dealing with Monica while continuing to try to find other leads. Following the ones that had come up, they were making no headway exploring either path.

More than a week had gone by. A week where the only thing she’d discovered was that she was finding herself increasingly more attracted to the partner she was working with. Moreover, supposedly intent on solving the murder and finding the missing infant, Ashley found herself silently dreading it at the same time because then she would be going back to her position in Animal Control. And while she loved working with animals, and had an actual gift for it according to a couple of the other officers who worked with her, it meant that her reason for working with Shane would be gone.

Until she had begun, she had thought she would be content working in this somewhat isolated world she inhabited. But now she looked forward to going in to work for another reason: dhe would be working with Shane.

This had to stop. She couldn’t lose sight of the fact that she was an Animal Control officer, not a probationary detective-in-training.

Maybe someday, but not now.

She wasn’t one who allowed fantasies to govern her life. She was a realist.

To get herself back in gear, she’d come in today, a Saturday, determined to make some sort of headway in the case that was threatening to go cold on them if they didn’t crack it soon. She’d heard more than once that the more time that went by, the less likely it was that a kidnapped child would be found alive.

At this point, Ashley admitted to herself that for whatever psychological reason, she identified with the abducted infant.

Granted, no one had slashed her out of her mother’s womb, but she had still found herself motherless, as well as fatherless, at an age where she could not recall having any family whatsoever. As far as she was concerned, it went without saying that the person who had kidnapped the infant and killed her mother was
not
someone who should be left to raise a child. It was a person who thought nothing of killing to get what he or she—and she was leaning toward she—wanted.

“I came in today to see if I could get anywhere on the case,” she told him in response to his question about what she was doing here on a Saturday.