Cavanaugh Watch by Marie Ferrarella Read Free Book Online Page B

alone. “Well, hello,” she declared with more than a little feeling.
    Marcia’s normally frosty delivery had warmed up several degrees. Obviously Sawyer brought out the best in someone, if not herself, Janelle thought. Marcia usually behaved as if she were entering a leper colony every time their paths crossed. The woman considered her an unworthy rival. Her dark eyes quickly swept over Sawyer’s impressive torso, coming to rest on the holster he wore. She rubbed her thumb over her fingers, as if vicariously feeling the leather.
    “Packing heat, I see,” Marcia murmured appreciatively, raising her eyes to his. Her mouth curved. “And you have a gun, too.”
    Janelle looked at Sawyer. His expression was unreadable. But if he was a typical male, she thought, he was probably eating this all up.
    “Here’s a thought, why don’t you guard her body?” Janelle suggested. Not waiting for a response or comment, she grabbed her portable notebook and darted around Marcia as if she were a mere obstacle to be circumvented.
    The latter smoothly shifted in order to block Sawyer’s exit. “Why don’t you?” she purred, looking up at him.
    “Yours wasn’t the name I was given,” Sawyer replied simply. In no mood to exchange banter, he took hold of Marcia’s shoulders and physically moved the assistant to the side.
    “I won’t tell if you won’t tell,” Marcia offered, raising her voice to be heard. She’d said the words to his back as he quickly strode down the corridor.
    With a careless shrug, Marcia hurried to catch up to Janelle.

    The meeting— briefing would have probably been a more apt description for it—was called to let the four score and plus people who worked for the D.A.’s office in on what was going on and to explain the presence of both Sawyer and the other detective.
    The situation necessitating his having a bodyguard would just be temporary, Woods assured them. In response, Marcia made a small, disappointed sound, like a kitten anticipating being left out in the snow without food. The noise was audible only to the handful around her. But it included Janelle and Sawyer.
    Janelle slanted at look toward him. It was her turn to smirk and she enjoyed it. “Well, it looks like you have a groupie.”
    “A what?”
    “A groupie,” she repeated. When there was no indication that he knew what she was talking about, she couldn’t help staring at him. “Don’t you know what a groupie is?”
    He had a tendency not to retain things if they didn’t have a direct bearing on his work. “Not really, but I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.”
    “A fan,” Janelle explained. “An intense fan. Usually female. You can track her by following the drool marks on the ground.” She paused for a moment, then put it in more familiar terms. “In a parallel universe, you might think of a groupie as a stalker.”
    He snorted. “I don’t believe in a parallel universe,” he told her. “There’s too much garbage to deal with in this one.”
    He had that right, she thought. And part of that garbage was standing right behind her in the conference room. It made her nostalgic for the “good old days” when all she’d had to contend with was an overwhelming workload.

    There was more to the briefing than just the necessary introductions and a summary of events that had brought about the detectives’ presence in the D.A.’s office. Verbal progress reports were given. The various assistants discussed how far along they were in their individual cases and whether or not there was enough to indict the defendants.
    Janelle found she had difficulty keeping her mind on the subject even though she was concentrating as hard as she could. She felt as if her thoughts were leaning in two different directions. Part of her mind was still on Wayne and the phone call. Although she hated to admit that Sawyer was right, the crime lieutenant could have compromised her position in the case just by calling.
    Thinking, she