Cavanaugh Watch (14 page)

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Authors: Marie Ferrarella

Tags: #Suspense

BOOK: Cavanaugh Watch
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Against his will, Sawyer found himself drawn into first the peripheral conversations, then into the main discussions, as well. Before he knew it, despite an active attempt at resistance, he was embedded in the threads of a typical Cavanaugh breakfast. And discovered that it really wasn’t so bad after all.

“Well, you survived,” Janelle said as they walked back to their respective vehicles a little more than an hour later.

Fishing out his car keys, he spared her a glance. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d held her breath more than once during the course of the morning, watching him more closely than she’d ever watched anyone else at the table before. It had been worse than the first time she’d pleaded a case in court. She’d even felt nervous for him, although he’d looked just fine throughout the whole thing.

“No, I knew you would.” In fact, Sawyer could handle himself well anywhere. “But I think you might have had your doubts.”

He shrugged carelessly as they made their way around to the front driveway. “Hell of a lot of noise going on in there.” He paused to give her a significant look. “And prying.”

“They’re cops,” she reminded him. “They ask questions. And theirs were meant in the best possible way,” she added, absolving her family in one giant swoop. “We Cavanaughs care about the people we come across.” The second the words were out, they echoed back to her. Janelle smiled.

Sawyer paused to look at her for a long, scrutinizing moment. “You over it?”

“Over what?”

He nodded back toward the house. Someone was watching them. Someone short. The curtain in the living room was pushed back, and he could make out a small figure at the window. Definitely one of the kids. “Being mad because you were kept in the dark.”

Janelle laughed as she opened the door on the driver’s side. “I suppose I am at that.” Her face softened as a fond expression came over it. “They’re a hard bunch to stay mad at.” About to leave, she hesitated, then turned to look at him. Awkward or not, this had to be said, had to be put out in the open. “Look, I don’t want you to think that this was anything more than just bringing you over because Uncle Andrew asked me to. You’re not being absorbed, or indoctrinated. They’re a bunch of nice people. Getting to know them is a good thing. It’s a big police department. You can never tell when you might need one of them.”

God, was that really her, stumbling over her own tongue like that? She’d always been so good, so succinct at stating what she thought. Now she sounded like someone having trouble rubbing two sentences together.

With effort, Janelle tried again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that last night came with no strings.”

“Good to know,” he said. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, her assurances did not make him feel better. If anything, they made him feel more restless. He paused, about to get into his car, which was parked behind hers. “What if, just for the sake of argument…” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t even put the situation into hypothetical terms without feeling the urge to back away.

And yet, when he did back away, there was this urge to retrace his steps again.

Was this what going insane was like?

Janelle stared at him, suddenly reading between the lines. Fear and joy raced through her. So why did she feel like smiling?

“Should the need arise, strings can be obtained at the checkout counter,” she informed him flippantly and followed it up with a grin. “I’ll see you around, Detective,” she said as she got in behind the steering wheel.

She saw him in her rearview mirror all the way to the county building. He followed close enough behind so that no other vehicle got between them.

Sawyer was taking the job he no longer had seriously, and it should have annoyed her. Should have, but didn’t. She admitted she liked not being alone.

But the moment she turned into the parking lot where she worked, Janelle lost sight of Sawyer’s dark blue sports car. Had he just escorted her in and then taken off?

Janelle vaguely recalled that Sawyer had said something about taking some time off, but she hadn’t thought he was really serious. Apparently he was, she thought as she scanned the wide open area.

The man was full of surprises, she mused, locking her car. And none so great as the one she’d received last night. It had been a double whammy. He’d surprised her and she, in turn, had surprised herself.

Thinking it over, she decided that a prolonged abstinence didn’t have anything to do with her reaction to Sawyer.
Sawyer
had something to do with her reaction to Sawyer.

The very thought of him now sent warm, tingling shivers all up and down her spine, stealing away her very breath.

Idiot, she thought. Bringing him to her uncle’s table notwithstanding, if anyone had ever struck her as definitely
not
the settling down type, it was Detective Sawyer Boone. He was even more of a loner than her cousin Teri’s husband, Hawk, had been when they’d first met him. And that was saying a great deal.

Hurrying toward the front steps of the building, Janelle almost went flying as her heel caught on something. Her hand flew out and she stopped her fall by bracing herself on the hood of a black Honda.

Well, that had been fun, she thought darkly.

Janelle checked her shoe to make sure the heel wasn’t broken. Still bracing herself against the hood of the Honda, she looked down as she put her shoe back on. She expected, if anything, to find a rock or a broken piece of asphalt. The summer had been hot, causing the asphalt to become more pliable. Potholes had resulted. Several pockmarked the lot with their accompanying loose pieces of asphalt.

But what she saw, almost kicked under the car she was leaning on, was neither a rock nor a piece of asphalt. It was a cell phone.

Chapter 14

J
anelle stooped down to pick up the cell phone. It was a little dirty, but didn’t appear to be damaged. Undoubtedly it had fallen out of someone’s purse or pocket as they’d gotten out of the car and then been kicked around at least once.

Somebody was going to be very unhappy to find their phone was missing. She knew more than a few people who felt as if their entire life was stored on the tiny microchip that resided within their phones. She hadn’t gotten to that stage yet, but she would be lost without her PDA.

Flipping the cell phone open, Janelle checked to see if the unit was still operational, or if she’d accidentally kicked the life right out of it.

The screen lit up like the face of a child who was happy to see her.

Relieved, she slipped the cell phone into her oversize black purse that on occasion also doubled as a briefcase. Okay, anything else involving the phone was going to have to be put on hold for a little while. Right now, she was running late and not at all comfortable about waltzing in after nine. Being late for any reason went against her own rules.

When she stepped off the elevator, she found that no one was around to notice she was late. Woods was in a meeting where he’d been since eight, according to his secretary, and Kleinmann was still on the East Coast. The other assistants to the A.D.A. were all going about their business, noses to grindstones and arms laden with files, oblivious to anything but their own personal misery.

Janelle lost no time in getting down to work and spent the first hour working on other cases. But as the second hour began its rotation around the clock, Janelle’s attention started shifting toward the case that was no longer her concern. She started by doing some checking into Anthony Wayne’s background, wading through transcripts and any public and not-so-public records she could get her hands on.

The fact that she was checking out her half brother was not lost on her. Everything about the case screamed conflict of interest.

It also, she realized, screamed
quick.

Less than half a day had gone by and she already had the distinct impression that the prosecuting side of the case was so eager for conviction that corners were slashed and shortcuts were raced across. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the latest report she’d pulled up on the screen. Something just didn’t feel right. She was beginning to believe that Marco had been straight with her.

Just as Marco had maintained, his son’s record, until the raid that had led to Tony’s arrest, had been spotless. A straight-A premed student on his way to becoming a doctor, Anthony Wayne could not have had dealings further away from his father’s world if he’d tried.

Or if Marco had tried.

Rocking in her chair, she laced her fingers together, thinking. If the younger Wayne was so blameless, where had the drugs come from? They had found over a kilo’s worth divided up into small nickel bags. The entire stash had been hidden under the mattress in the spare bedroom. Had they been planted as Marco maintained? Or was Anthony, with his heretofore exemplary life, the perfect cover for drug dealing? And why had there been a raid just then, with all of this just sitting there, waiting to be found?

Janelle shook her head. Thinking. Seemed like a hell of a coincidence from where she was sitting. And although those did occur in life, she was leaning more toward conspiracy.

She glanced at the name of the arresting officer and decided that maybe it was time for her to have a little chat of her own with Detective Conway.

Grabbing her purse, she left a quick note on her desk that she was taking a couple of hours personal time, in case Woods ever came looking for her.

As she made her way out into the corridor, she bumped into Mariel. Ordinarily the picture of cheerfulness, the dark-haired assistant looked distraught and somewhat lost. She mumbled a belated, “Excuse me,” and started to walk away.

Placing her hand on the other woman’s shoulder, Janelle stopped her. “Is something wrong, Mariel?” She looked as if she’d just lost three cases in a row and was up for performance review.

Mariel only shook her head. The smile that appeared on her lips had been forced there.

“Just overworked,” she answered, then added, “and I think I’m coming down with something,” following it up with a sniffle.

Because of the intense, long hours that were often required, Janelle had learned not too far into the job that it paid to keep an assortment of pharmaceutical products on hand.

“Top side drawer in my desk,” Janelle instructed, pointing toward her office. “Help yourself to anything you need.”

A spasmodic smile came and went swiftly. “Thanks.” With a nod, Mariel hurried off.

In the opposite direction, Janelle noted. She was about to point that out, then thought better of it. The assistant didn’t look as if she wanted to be corrected and Janelle had a detective to see.

Twenty minutes later, she walked out of the elevator onto the fourth floor of the police department. Janelle had a general idea where Narcotics was located and headed in that direction.

Her mouth dropped open when she discovered Sawyer there ahead of her. Talking to the man she had come to see.

When Sawyer turned to look over his shoulder and saw her standing there, he didn’t appear to be the least surprised. Instead, he merely nodded, as if he’d expected her all along.

From the sound of it, he was wrapping his conversation up.

“Thanks for the information, Conway,” he said, getting to his feet.

The other man grunted in response, then turned back to typing something on his keyboard. If he was aware of her presence behind him, Conway gave no indication.

Janelle was about to say something to the other detective, but Sawyer quickly commandeered her arm and led her away from the small cubicle where Detective James Conway was sitting. Very deliberately, he directed her back the way she had just entered.

“Excuse me?” she demanded, pulling her arm free. Just because they’d slept together didn’t give Sawyer the right to dictate what she did and where she went. “I need to talk to him.”

He took hold of her arm again to hold her in place. “You don’t have to.” Janelle’s eyes widened at his gall. “I already did.”

And what, he was the last word in everything? “Maybe I want to ask him something you didn’t cover.”

He looked at her knowingly. “Like why he and the others raided Anthony Wayne’s off-campus apartment on the exact day that they did?”

Some of her fire went out, but at least he wasn’t gloating. “All right, maybe you did ask him the same question I was going to.”

He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Great minds—”

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

His eyes held hers for a moment. Damn but she had gotten to him. Attempts to shake off her effects didn’t seem to be working. He didn’t want to get gotten to.

So why are you still hanging around?

He had no answer to give the annoying little voice inside his head. So for now, he ignored it. “Which of us is the broken clock?”

“Never mind that, what did Conway say about why he picked that day to raid Tony Wayne?”

“Just about what I expected him to say,” Sawyer told her. He stretched his words out, knowing that it set her off. He had no idea why he liked watching the fire come into her eyes, but he did. “That his information had come via an anonymous tip. It went along with what Sam Martinez said.”

“You believe him?”

He’d already checked Conway out. The man was a good cop. No evidence of his ever having been compromised. Not everything was a conspiracy. “No reason not to.”

“Did they try to trace the call?”

He shook his head. “The woman didn’t stay on the line long enough for them to do that.”

Her eyes widened. This was the first she’d heard of a woman placing the call. She’d just naturally assumed it was a man. Which made her as guilty as everyone else when it came to stereotyping and profiling. “A woman?”

“Yeah.” He liked the surprise on her face. Liked her face, he thought. He knew he was on dangerous ground here and he was really going to have to watch his step. For his own sake. “According to Conway, she said something about Wayne Jr. supplying her brother and that the kid had overdosed on the stuff, which was why she was calling us. For revenge and so that no other kid could die like her brother did.

“But then she was gone. Conway said she sounded genuine and the department had been trying for a long time to get something on Wayne that would stick.”

Janelle pointed out the obvious. “But this is Wayne Jr.”

He nodded, indicating that he went along with her thinking. “They figured it was a start.” Sawyer took a breath, waiting until the two detectives who were walking down the hall had passed them before he continued. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought I was the one who was supposed to chase down leads.”

She supposed that had been the original division of labor, but she hadn’t really been paying that much attention to rules, not when all heaven breaking loose had followed. “I got restless.”

To her surprise, Sawyer laughed ruefully, running his hand along the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Her eyes met his. And she knew exactly what he was saying. Neither of them was talking about the restlessness that came from dealing with unresolved cases. It was far more basic than that.

Sawyer took a breath, as if making up his mind about something. “You know, we’re not that far from my place.”

Her eyes narrowed as she tried to absorb the meaning behind the words. “You’re inviting me over to your apartment?”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s lunchtime.”

Janelle took his wrist and held it so that he could see his watch more clearly. It wasn’t that late yet. “It’s eleven o’clock.”

He shrugged as he dropped his hand. “So, make it an early lunch.”

She regarded him for a moment, mystified. “You could actually eat after everything that my uncle loaded on your plate?”

His eyes held hers for what seemed like an eternity. “Who said anything about eating?”

This, she told herself, was where she cut the line and ran. Or at least turned on her heel and walked away. This was not a man a woman could build a future with. He was the last word in rootlessness and the sooner she wrapped her mind around that, the better it would be for her.

Knowing this,
believing
this, she was surprised to hear herself say, “You lead, I’ll follow in my car.”

Sawyer didn’t say a word. Not
okay,
not
fine.
Not even a quick nod of his head. But the grin on his face remained with her the entire short trip from the police station to his modest garden apartment complex.

She was so intent on keeping Sawyer’s car in sight, she hardly took note of the route, which was bad. Had she abruptly decided to retrace her steps, she wouldn’t have been able to do that without first pulling over to the side in order to examine the road map she kept tucked away in the passenger door.

Although the tips of her fingers felt damp, there were no sudden decisions to turn around and go back. If anything, the anticipation kept building with each tenth of a mile that passed.

Because of the hour, there were a lot of empty spaces in the complex. She passed where he parked his car in order to slip into a space two aisles over.

The moment she pulled up her hand brake, the door on her side opened and Sawyer was pulling her out. Pulling her out of the car and into his arms.

Any protest or pretense at surprise faded in the wake of the heat instantly traveling up and down her body. His mouth covered hers and she found herself melting as she threaded her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Doing what she’d been thinking about doing ever since she had left his bed this morning.

Janelle could feel her body responding, could feel it tightening like an instrument being tuned. Primed. Ready for the concert that was coming.

She didn’t remember how she got from the parking space to his apartment. It was almost as if she had been teleported across the distance. Neither did she remember taking off her clothes or having them removed. One minute, she was standing out in the open beside her car, fully clothed, kissing and being kissed. The next, she was inside his apartment, naked and completely on fire.

They made love faster than she would have ever thought possible. The all-consuming desires that ricocheted through her body all but exploded within what seemed like minutes. He’d gotten her to climax in breathtaking speed.

And when it was over, they did it again. And again. Until neither one could move and they both lay together on the floor, only several feet into the apartment, trying desperately to regulate their breathing or, at the very least, their pulse rate.

Janelle waited for the embarrassment, the regret, to overtake her. Neither made an appearance. Another wave of desire came instead, along with an almost debilitating tenderness that flooded her veins.

She had no idea what to do with it.

Her breathing a tiny bit steadier, she covered her eyes with one of her hands, trying somehow to pull herself together.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever done it that quickly before.” Dropping her hand, she turned her head slightly to look at him. “Or that often.”

He looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “I believe in making the most of my time,” he told her softly. Though drolly delivered, the response struck her as funny. So funny that she started to laugh. Once she got started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Janelle laughed so hard, she wound up getting hiccups.

“Now see—hic—what you’ve—hic—done. I’m—hic—supposed to—hic—be in—hic—court this—hic—afternoon.” Concern grew as she tried to stop and found she really couldn’t. “How—hic—am I—hic—supposed to—hic—ask the—hic—judge for—hic—no remand—hic—like this—hic?”

Sawyer couldn’t keep the amusement he felt from showing. But he did his best to appear concerned. “You’re right. This is serious.” He rolled over onto his stomach, his upper torso half covering hers. “I could try scaring you.”

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