Cavanaugh or Death by Marie Ferrarella Read Free Book Online

quickly stride toward the captain’s office.
    Unlike Lieutenant Carver, the man who oversaw Major Crimes had his door open despite the fact that he was still on the phone.
    It was like watching an accident waiting to happen, Davis thought, perched on the corner of his desk as he looked across the room and observed her.
    He fully expected to hear Ryan’s voice come booming across the office once the almost annoyingly perky blonde began to state her case to ask for him on loan for the surreal purpose of looking into a case of possible grave robbery.
    But five, then ten minutes went by and the walls did not shake, nor did Ryan’s door rattle.
    Davis continued to watch his temporary partner in mounting fascination.
    Twelve minutes after she entered Ryan’s inner sanctum, she came out again, an even wider smile—if possible—on her lips.
    â€œWell?” he asked her somewhat skeptically once she reached him.
    â€œWell, you’ve got a very nice captain,” she told him, a glint of mischief in her diamond-blue eyes. “Oh, and you’re mine for the next forty-eight hours,” she added as if that bit of information amounted to just an afterthought instead of the crux of her visit.
    Mike Manetti, one of the oldest detectives in the Major Crimes squad—and some felt way overdue to embrace retirement—grinned broadly at him as he and his very temporary partner passed by his less than tidy desk.
    â€œLucky so-and-so,” Manetti quipped, keeping his assessment clean because of the woman with the notoriously taciturn detective.
    Moira smiled at the white-haired, older detective. “I doubt he thinks so,” she said as if confiding in Manetti.
    â€œThen Gilroy’s a slower learner than I gave him credit for,” Manetti told her with a pronounced wink. “Make the most of this, boy. Make the most of this,” Manetti advised, raising his voice so that it followed both of them out into the hall.
    Davis deliberately ignored what Manetti had just said. Instead, he thought of his captain and the cheerful expression on the other man’s face.
    â€œWhat the hell did you say to Ryan?” Davis asked.
    He’d been fairly convinced that the captain, in the final analysis, would turn down her request, which would have admittedly put him back to square one, investigating whatever was going on at the cemetery alone. All in all, that was not exactly an unwelcome scenario even though he had already admitted to her that two heads were usually better than one.
    â€œThat my lieutenant would appreciate his cooperation in lending out one of his best detectives for this rather unique and hush-hush investigation into some unorthodox dealings at St. Joseph’s Cemetery. I mentioned that some of Aurora’s most prominent citizens had loved ones who were buried there and that they wanted this looked into and taken care of quickly and quietly.” And then that damnable grin of hers returned to momentarily sidetrack his attention. “Oh, and I might have also mentioned that my great-uncle sent his best.”
    Davis looked at her suspiciously. Here it was; the crux of it. “Great-uncle?”
    Moira didn’t even try to suppress the smile that spread across her face. “Yes. Brian Cavanaugh. He’s the Chief of—”
    â€œDs, yes, I know,” he all but snapped, saving her the trouble of making what he assumed was an announcement. His suspicions heightened. “I thought that you Cavanaughs made this big deal about climbing up through the ranks strictly on your own merits without relying on the Cavanaugh name or connections.”
    â€œWe do,” she informed him openly and surprisingly artlessly.
    She was totally blowing his mind. Didn’t she hear the contradiction?
    â€œThen what was that all about?” he asked, nodding back in the general direction of his captain’s office.
    â€œThat was using leverage to get you on the