Dangerous Disguise (2 page)

The odd thing was, the reluctance Maren Minnesota had displayed seemed to have been immediate, before she’d looked at his credentials. She’d already seen his résumé, so her problem with him couldn’t have been anything on the paper, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked him to interview in the first place.

He wondered if she was naturally leery of strangers or if she was reacting to something specific about him. An amused smile played on his lips. His song was over, but he left the volume on high, letting the music surround him. Maybe the woman had a keen sixth sense when it came to undercover detectives, he mused. The idea no sooner came to him than he frowned. He sure as hell hoped that wasn’t it. Anonymity was the name of the game.

But then, who knew how she figured into all of this. She could be the ringleader to the restaurant’s criminal operation. Just because she looked melt-in-your-mouth delectable didn’t mean she didn’t have the brains of a master criminal. Being a woman had never gotten in the way of people like Catherine de Médicis and Lucrezia Borgia.

Everyone was a suspect until he sorted this latest assignment out.

Right now, he wanted one last brush-up lesson from his uncle. It never hurt to be too prepared when dealing with criminals.

He’d downloaded the Rainbow’s End menu, both lunch and dinner, off the Internet last night. He’d familiarized himself with all the ingredients that went into preparing every dish. Overkill, maybe, but when his life might be on the line, it didn’t hurt to wear suspenders and a belt.

To counterbalance that, his nature demanded that he take risks and play long shots, but never at the beginning of an assignment. Then he wanted to make sure all his ducks were in a row and swimming to the best of their ability.

After taking the freeway for one exit, Jared got off. Midday traffic was light in this part of town. His luck was holding.

Out of all the Cavanaughs, he supposed he was the best cook. Not counting Uncle Andrew, of course. Andrew Cavanaugh, former chief of the Aurora California police department and family patriarch, had put himself through school working as a short-order cook. After his wife Rose had disappeared over fifteen years ago, Andrew had taken over the duties of both parents. His cooking improved. And once he retired from the force, his talents continued to flourish.

Things hadn’t changed when his wife was found last year, not in some shallow grave or in the river, the way everyone feared, but suffering from amnesia.

These days, Jared thought with a warm smile, his uncle and aunt sometimes competed for control of the kitchen. No one had the heart to tell Aunt Rose that Uncle Andrew could cook rings around her. But then, in his opinion, no one could hold a candle to Uncle Andrew.

He’d been taking lessons from Andrew these past two weeks. Ever since this assignment had come to light. At the time, the assistant chef at Rainbow’s End hadn’t left his position yet. But the man had come to the police department with very grave suspicions and some very serious allegations.

What the man had to say had been heard and duly noted. The chef had then been persuaded to take a leave of absence from work citing a sudden “family emergency.”

And he was the man the department had sent to fill the vacancy, Jared thought as he drove past a strip mall to the light. The other three applicants for the job had been from the police force as well. His father, the current chief of detectives, Brian Cavanaugh, was taking no chances. He was loading the deck, not wanting to lose the opening that the department had arranged in the first place.

The others were good, but he was better, Jared thought with absolutely no conceit. He was born for this kind of work. Making a right, he drove into his uncle’s development. There was no doubt about it. He had a passion for undercover work, for never being the same person twice. It turned each day into a challenge and he liked challenges. They kept him on his toes, kept him from getting stale.

Jared pulled up into the driveway of the house where he’d had breakfast just a few hours ago. Making breakfast for not only his immediate family but his extended one as well was a ritual his uncle had insisted on over the past dozen years or so. Never more so than now when his own five children—all detectives on the Aurora Police Force—had left the “nest” to begin their own families.

No doubt about it, they were dropping like flies, Jared mused as he got out of the Mustang. His cousins, all seven of them, even his older brother Dax, had all succumbed to the lure of marriage.

But not him, he thought. Never him. Marriage wasn’t something that had ever fit in with his plans, much less held any appeal for him. He liked meeting new women, being with new women.

Like that one he’d met today.

But he was getting ahead of himself. First the bust, then the rewards, if there were to be any.

Jared knocked on the back door and then tried the doorknob. As always, the door was unlocked. Jared walked into the kitchen, which somehow always managed to have warm, delicious smells permeating the air.

You’d think that the former chief of police would take a more aggressive stand toward safeguarding his house, Jared thought not for the first time.

“Uncle Andrew,” he called out. “It’s Jared. I thought maybe I’d squeeze in one last lesson unless you’re too busy.”

A man of average height and in his fifties, still in very good shape for his age, appeared almost immediately in the opposite doorway. A patient, genial smile was on his lips. These days his uncle looked more like a professor than a policeman, Jared thought.

“Cooking is an ongoing process,” Andrew informed him as he walked into the room. “There is never a ‘last lesson.’”

Rose was right behind her husband. From the slightly ruffled appearance of her clothing, Jared had a sneaking suspicion that maybe his unscheduled appearance had interrupted something. Rose caught his eye and shook her head, as if to tell him not to say anything. Humoring her husband, she gave her nephew a wink. “You keep learning until you’re taken off to that big kitchen in the sky.”

“Amen to that,” Andrew chimed in, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, an opportunity he’d professed he was never going to take for granted, not even until his dying day.

With a grin, Jared cleared his throat. “Well, I’m not about to be taken off to the big kitchen in the sky, but I am short on time….”

Andrew laughed. “Then I guess we’d better get to it.” And they did.

Chapter 2

T
he nature of Detective Jared Cavanaugh’s work did not allow him to clock in and clock out. It demanded his attendance 24/7. When he worked, he worked hard. And because of this, he played even harder when he had the opportunity.

Last night he’d gone to his local police haunt, the one he frequented when he wanted to just be himself, the second son of Brian Cavanaugh. Because he was slipping into character in less than twenty-four hours, he’d spent most of the evening at Malone’s in the company of an attractive blonde who had indicated to him several different times that she would have been more than willing to see the night end with him in her bed. He’d been tempted, but he needed a clear head to face the following day. So with much regret, he took a rain check. A rain check he had every intention of using when he had the chance.

He enjoyed living life to the fullest, drinking deeply from the well before continuing on his journey.

The same set of rules that governed his life had him sitting here this morning, for probably the last morning in at least several weeks to come, at his uncle’s table. Enjoying being part of the family.

Jared knew from an early age that he was born lucky and he never took that fact for granted. His line of work, amid the dregs of society, only brought it home to him that much more clearly.

He was a Cavanaugh, part of
the
Cavanaughs, and family mattered.

In total, the Cavanaugh family had nine police detectives, one chief of detectives, one retired police chief, an assistant district attorney and a vet. But even the latter was involved with the force. His cousin Patience treated the dogs that were part of the department’s K-9 squad. It was that very connection that had led her to meet the man she was eventually to marry. Brady was partnered with a German shepherd and now they were both partnered with Patience.

When they all showed up at breakfast with their various partners and a number of short people who’d been added to the grand total, the custom-made kitchen table needed all of its leaves. It took up most of the room, leaving very little space for Uncle Andrew to operate in.

It didn’t matter since Andrew always seemed to manage, no matter how many people showed up for a meal. And somehow, the food just kept on coming out of that vast cornucopia his uncle called a refrigerator. There were times when Jared could have sworn Andrew was part magician. Other times, he was sure of it.

This morning saw only half the Cavanaugh brood. Various appointments and duties kept them away. Jared found himself wishing that he could see them all this morning. It was the same wish he always had just before going under cover. There was something about the danger of the situation that both thrilled him and made him oddly sentimental, making him feel that he needed to see his family one last time before he took on another life.

Not that he was about to admit this to any of his relatives, he thought, helping himself to a huge stack of his uncle’s pancakes. He smiled at his Aunt Rose as she passed him the syrup dispenser she’d just refilled.

Undercover work made him hungry.

His eyes swept over the group again, memorizing expressions, absorbing scents and sounds as if they would somehow sustain him until the next time. Then burying them deep inside for future viewing.

This assignment was different from the ones he usually took. The other personas he’d taken on had lived on the fringes of society, associating with the dregs of humanity, a fact that made him doubly grateful to have the family he did. This time, though, he was going to be entering a world filled with a better class of people.

At least on the surface, he amended, digging into his meal. If what the witness said was true, the restaurant was a front for money laundering. The only thing that set the people involved apart from the usual class he dealt with was that the former bunch wore better clothes and had nicer homes.

But dirt was dirt no matter how you dressed it up.

“You seem a little preoccupied.”

Jared started as he realized that Andrew was standing at his elbow, a platter in hand. The man had bent over to whisper in his ear. There was concern on his uncle’s face. “Sure you got everything down?”

“I’m aces, Uncle ’Drew,” Jared said, grinning.

“He’s just getting in character,” Janelle, his sister commented. She was the only attorney in the lot, other than his cousin Callie’s husband, the Honorable Judge Brenton Montgomery. Her eyes were shining as she looked across the table at her big brother. “Don’t worry about him, Uncle Andrew. He’s in his element. He really likes to playing pretend, don’t you, Jared?”

Her playful tone masked the fact that, like the others, she was concerned about Jared. About the way he left himself open, vulnerable to retaliation, without benefit of backup close by.

Concern and fear were things they all had to make peace with in their own way. It was something they all had to live with.

Alex, his cousin Clay’s little boy, looked at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “You’re playing pretend? Can I play, too?”

Jared laughed, absorbing the noise, the warmth and the good-natured teasing. Hoping it would somehow last inside of him until the next time he could see them.

“Maybe some other time, sport.” The disappointment he saw registering on the boy’s small face had him adding, “Tell you what, when I get back, we’ll play anything you like.”

“When will you get back?” Alex pressed, echoing a question that occurred to several of the others at the table.

“I’m not sure, but the second I do, you’ll be the first one I look up.”

Alex looked thoughtful for a moment, then stuck out his hand. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Jared declared, shaking the small hand. He looked over the boy’s head toward Clay. “He’s just like you were at his age. Except he’s a lot more likable.” He winked at the boy, who beamed broadly. “Digs right in and wants to pin you down.”

“Everybody wants to pin you down,” Dax interjected.

Like Troy and Janelle, Dax had made a special effort to be here this morning for their brother. No one knew how long Jared would be gone or when they would see him again. There was no set timetable for the kind of assignments Jared took on. A week, two, a year; he would have to keep at it until either the job was done or his cover was blown. Jared’s father was the only one who was kept fully apprised of everything that went on at the station house.

At that moment Andrew made the short trip from the stove back to the table. In his oven-mittened hand he was holding another helping of his special French toast, something that was always welcomed at breakfast. “You need anything, you call,” he instructed Jared.

“Careful, Dad,” Teri warned. “Otherwise you’re going to get calls in the middle of the night for an emergency food run.”

Andrew laughed, obviously enjoying the idea. “Wouldn’t mind that, either.”

He was only half kidding, Jared thought. Again he was struck by the thought that he was one of the lucky ones who walked this earth. If he wanted a best friend, someone to confide in, or even a child to borrow for the afternoon in order to enjoy the fruits of a familial relationship without having to be tied down by the same, it was all right here, waiting for him.

He felt sorry for anyone who was deprived of these things. Nothing beat having a family as a support group.

It was something that Maren Minnesota could only fantasize about.

She’d never known a large family, never known what it was like to feel a mother’s touch. But rather than deprived, she thought of herself much in the same terms that Jared did. She felt lucky. Lucky to have someone like Joe Collins, “Papa Joe”, in her life for as long as she could remember. He cared for her. It was because of him that she was here, working at Rainbow’s End.

It was because of him that she was
anywhere
, she thought, not for the first time. The tall, broad-shouldered man had taught her how to look on the bright side of life, to see the good in everything and to never be afraid of going after what she wanted.

She owed him so much and she meant to pay on that debt every day of both their lives.

As was her custom, she came into work early and opened the place up. This morning it was the produce man and the butcher whose deliveries she anticipated. She had them all on rotating schedules. Some came every day, others every two days, making their deliveries in the early morning hours so that by the time the doors opened at eleven-thirty, everything was running like proverbial clockwork.

Maren liked being in control, liked being on top of things and prided herself on being able to meet every emergency with some sort of a contingency plan. She’d come here two days after graduation, her business degree still warm, and gone right to work. That was a little more than five years ago, and she hadn’t stopped since.

After signing for two deliveries, she entered her office and paused to flip the page on her calendar. She’d just passed the new guy, Jared, as he was coming in to work. He’d surprised her and the word “hello” had all but backed up in her mouth.

Maren realized that she was working her bottom lip and stopped. Usually she forged ahead with confidence and rarely second-guessed herself. But she wasn’t altogether certain she’d done the right thing by hiring this new man. She’d hired him on impulse after seeing him in action. Not hiring him would have been on impulse, too, she silently pointed out. Not hiring someone because they were too good-looking wasn’t exactly a credible reason.

Just a gut instinct geared strictly toward self-preservation.

She shook her head, laughing at herself. What self-preservation? It wasn’t as if they were going to spontaneously combust within five feet of one another. And it wasn’t as if she was going to have anything to do with the man outside of the confines of work, she silently insisted. Maren sat down at her desk and picked up the coffee that Max had brought her.

There was nothing to be uneasy about.

Unless, of course, the new man couldn’t cook.

Jared couldn’t make up his mind whether or not his so-called boss was a genuine ice princess, or if Maren Minnesota just believed that there was a strict dividing line between management and staff.

Or if it was something about him that made her act icy.

The thought nagged at him. Granted he’d only been here a couple of hours, but he’d found that women usually warmed up to him immediately. It didn’t matter whether they were young, old, married, single, he had the ability to make them light up like Christmas trees whenever he put his mind to it. Women were also an excellent source of information and he made the most of that, becoming their confidant at lightning speed.

But Maren had ignored every opening he’d left for her so far. Other than the chance encounter this morning, he’d stopped by her office twice, each time on some pretext or other. Each time she’d answered his questions about work crisply, without any embellishments or going off on any tangents. He was dropping bread-crumbs right in front of her and she was oblivious to it all, crushing them beneath her size six shoes.

She didn’t take up any of his leads.

Unlike April, the salad girl with the excellent lungs, he mused. He caught her struggling with a large basket of freshly washed celery. Gallantly he took the basket from her and carried it over to the butcher block. Beaming, she thanked him and he lingered at her workstation, handing her stalk after stalk as she prepared them for the salad bar.

Ever flexible, he decided to cultivate April first. There were a number of hostesses and waitresses he could work on before having to turn to Maren. No point in having her linger on his mind.

But she did.

“How long have you been working here?” He watched April work the large knife like a machete and found himself thinking she needed to go slower.

“Six months.” She slid the coarsely chopped pieces into an aluminum bowl, then took another stalk and began the process all over again. “My uncle got me the job. He knows Joe.”

That would be Joe Collins, the bookkeeper, Jared thought. But there was no way he was technically supposed to know that since the man hadn’t been in during the interview yesterday. He looked at her innocently. “Joe?”

“Joe Collins.” The sound of her knife hitting the butcher-block table punctuated her every word. Her smile was guileless as she added, “Great guy. Heart as big as the Grand Canyon. Maren’s crazy about him. I guess we all are.”

The man who had come to the department with his story about money laundering hadn’t bothered to fill them in on this detail. Jared displayed just the right amount of interest to keep the woman talking. “He and Maren have a thing going?”

He wasn’t prepared for her response. April began to laugh, her knife never missing a beat. “Him and Maren? No way.” Her mind paused to think, but her hands kept going. “Although, strictly speaking, I suppose it would be all right.” She raised her eyes to his face. “I’ve seen movies where that kind of thing happens.”

She’d lost him. It sounded as if April was talking about something unsavory or tasteless. Was the manager sleeping with the bookkeeper? The DMV photograph they’d pulled up of Joe Collins had been of an older man. Was April talking about May-December romances, or possibly something worse?

“What kind of thing?”

“Hey, you—new guy,” Max Anderson, the heavy-set man who occupied the position of head chef as zealously as a despot controls a tiny kingdom, cut into the conversation.

Jared turned to see Max waving him over. His weight and demeanor, not to mention his full black beard, made him look like a Kodiak bear. At the moment Max stood in front of a huge pot that was moments away from boiling over. “I want you to watch and learn.”

“Better go.” April lowered her voice. “Max has a temper and he thinks he runs the place.”

Jared nodded. “Thanks for the tip.”

He made a mental note to get back to the conversation that had been interrupted, even though on the surface it didn’t seem as if it had anything to do with the real reason he was here. Still, knowing everything he could about the people he was dealing with made him feel as if he was better prepared to handle whatever might come up. Because something always came up. It was the first thing he’d learned on the job.