Cavanaugh in the Rough Read online

  A crime-scene investigator and a gorgeous cop must track down a serial killer in USA TODAY bestselling author Marie Ferrarella’s explosive new novel!

  For Susannah Quinn, heartbreakingly handsome detective Christian Cavanaugh O’Bannon is trouble that she doesn’t need. Still, her CSI instincts tell her a serial killer’s on the loose, so she agrees to work this case with Chris through long days—and even hotter nights. But his reckless charm is allowing him perilously close to her darkest secrets.

  Going by the book has never been freewheeling Chris’s style, so an unofficial partnership with Susannah is just what he needs to stop a vicious murderer in his tracks. While he struggles to win the beautiful blonde’s trust, mutual desire puts them both in harm’s way...

  “You must think I’m crazy,” Suzie whispered.

  Chris shook his head. “Nope, don’t think that, either.”

  She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She still felt as if she was coming undone. “I must look like a mess.”

  “Not possible,” he told her, taking out his handkerchief. Very carefully, his eyes on hers, he began to wipe away the tears from her cheeks. “See,” he murmured, “better already.”

  Before he knew exactly how it happened, Chris found himself lowering his mouth to Suzie’s and kissing her. Kissing away her pain.

  With what felt like the last ounce of his strength, Chris put his hands on her shoulders and drew her away from him.

  “Suzie,” he cautioned. “You don’t want to do this.”

  She felt bewildered and not a little stunned, as if she was being pulled in two different directions at once. “I don’t?”

  “I mean, you don’t want to do something you’re going to regret.”

  “Then don’t make me regret it,” she whispered, taking hold of the front of Chris’s shirt and pulling him to her...

  *

  Be sure to check out the next books

  in this exciting miniseries:

  Cavanaugh Justice—Where Aurora’s finest

  are always in action *

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  Dearest Reader,

  This book introduces a new branch of the Cavanaugh family, the one that was uncovered when Shamus asked his oldest son, retired chief of police Andrew Cavanaugh, to find his long-lost younger brother, Murdoch.

  Shamus hadn’t seen Murdoch since the latter was a young boy. They lost touch when their parents divorced and Shamus’s mother took off with Murdoch for parts unknown. It turned out that Murdoch had passed away, but he left behind four offspring, who in turn were fruitful and multiplied, just like the main part of the family.

  From this branch, we meet our hero, Christian. Newly reassigned to Homicide, he stops two fleeing teens who have discovered the body of a nude, recently strangled young blonde. One of the CSI agents called to the scene is Susannah Quinn. Suzie is a quiet, diligent worker with a dark secret that keeps her from allowing anyone into her life. Chris knows a challenge when he sees one and sets out to get the sexy blonde investigator to trust him—or die trying. But first they have to figure out just who is killing all these blondes who are only out for a good time—because their victim turns out to be just one of many.

  Thank you once again for taking the time to read one of my books, and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.

  All the best,

  CAVANAUGH IN

  THE ROUGH

  Marie Ferrarella

  USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author Marie Ferrarella has written more than two hundred and fifty books for Harlequin, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, marieferrarella.com.

  Books by Marie Ferrarella Harlequin Romantic Suspense Cavanaugh Justice

  Mission: Cavanaugh Baby

  Cavanaugh on Duty

  A Widow’s Guilty Secret

  Cavanaugh’s Surrender

  Cavanaugh Rules

  Cavanaugh’s Bodyguard

  Cavanaugh Fortune

  How to Seduce a Cavanaugh

  Cavanaugh or Death

  Cavanaugh Cold Case

  Cavanaugh in the Rough Coltons of Texas

  Colton Copycat Killer

  The Pregnant Colton Bride Coltons of Oklahoma Second Chance Colton

  Visit the Author Profile page at

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  To

  Susan Kyser Frank

  For Always Having

  Such Great Things to Say.

  This One’s For You

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Her Alpha Marine by Karen Anders

  Prologue

  A host of thoughts, mostly fragmented, were playing ping-pong in Detective Christian Cavanaugh O’Bannon’s head as he drove to work. He was just a tad punchy, having gotten virtually no sleep. His goal was to go in early so that he could leave early and get his life back on track.

  For now, that was the plan.

  Last night’s revelry was still clinging to him like the light scent of expensive perfume that sold by the fraction of an ounce. Perfume worn by the woman he’d been trying to corner at the party he’d attended. She’d been friendly and warm, and just when he thought he was finally getting somewhere, he’d turned around and she was gone.

  He’d stuck around, thinking their paths would cross again, but they hadn’t. There’d been other single women there, just as attractive in their own way, but somehow he couldn’t work up the enthusiasm about any of them the way he had about the one who “got away.”

  Consequently, he was still somewhat frustrated, as well as just the slightest bit slow, rather than energized, the latter being his usual state.

  This was why he’d almost missed them. Missed the two boys, barely in their teens, running as if one of those zombie creatures was after them.

  What caught Chris’s attention, other than the fact that the teens were all but flying, was that the two looked paler than vanilla ice cream buried beneath a three-day snowfall.

  Intrigued and definitely curious, Chris stopped going over just what had gone wrong with his fail-safe strategy last night, and became instantly alert and focused on what was happening right now.

  It was a little after six in the morning and the sun had already staked out its position in the sky, so Chris knew his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. That his mind wasn’t doing creative things with the night’s leftover shadows. There were no shadows, only two teenage boys running from a strip mall as if their very lives depended on just how far away they could get and how fast they could do it.

  Braking abruptly—and silently grateful that there was no one behind him—Chris did a creative U-turn and drove into the strip mall, instantly going in the same direction the boys were running—or fleeing, if that turned out to be the case. Pa
rt of his gut instincts—inherited from a family tree enormously populated by law enforcement agents—told him that “fleeing” was the more likely description.

  Within a heartbeat, Chris brought his vehicle to a screeching halt right in front of the taller of the two teenagers. The youth fell, then quickly scrambled back up to his feet.

  Fear and confusion were in both teens’ eyes.

  They stared at him, not like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, but like two deer that had seen something really, really awful.

  Chris rolled down the window closest to the teens.

  “Something wrong, boys?”

  Neither answered him, not because they were trying to be evasive or difficult, but because neither one of them seemed able to speak. They were both struggling to catch their breath, their lungs all but bursting from their effort to put as much distance between themselves and whatever it was that they had either seen or encountered within the empty department store.

  Making a judgment call, Chris turned off his engine and got out of his vehicle.

  His eyes swept over the two teens, making a quick evaluation of any potential threat they might pose. This was Aurora, CA, deemed to be a normally safe city. But no place was perfect, and as his mother, Maeve, was fond of saying, even paradise had its serpent, as Adam and Eve sadly discovered.

  Shorter and of slighter build than he was, the two teens didn’t seem to pose any sort of a threat. Wearing light windbreakers that had flapped wildly as they ran, the duo didn’t look to be carrying any weapons, either, concealed or otherwise.

  “Take your time,” Chris told them patiently. “Catch your breath and then tell me what has you both so spooked.”

  Still gasping, the shorter one pointed frantically behind him to the building he and his friend had just vacated like two fledgling bats out of hell.

  Chris took the opportunity to attempt to fill in some of the blanks and coax the story out of the breathless, frightened teens.

  “Kresky’s,” he said, identifying their point of exit.

  The duo nodded vigorously in response, but still didn’t seem to be able to form any actual words.

  In its day, Kresky’s had been an upper-end department store, a chain of shops owned and developed by a wealthy East Coast-based family more than eighty years ago. At its zenith, the stores were located in major cities in almost every state in the country. They offered everything from clothing to cookware to toys. Prices were reasonable and customers were plentiful—until they weren’t.

  Once it stopped being the place where everyone shopped, the stores grew fewer in number until there were almost none left at all. The one in Aurora was among the last to give up the ghost and had just recently—four months ago, if Chris recalled correctly—held its going-out-of-business sale, before permanently closing its doors.

  “What about Kresky’s?” Chris asked, following that question with another one. “And what were you two doing in the store? It’s been cleared out for months. Why would you want to break in?”

  As far as he knew, that final sale had included virtually everything in the place, including the fixtures. Only the plumbing and the walls were left, a sad testimony to a once thriving store where he had accompanied Sally Howe, the love of his life his last year in high school, to pick out her senior prom dress.

  Neither teen in front of him seemed to have sucked enough air into his lungs to attempt to explain why they would break into an abandoned department store. Instead, the taller of them had only two words, barely audible, to offer.

  The moment Chris heard them, he realized that he wasn’t being told why they had entered the building, but why they had exited it in such a huge hurry and why their complexions had turned so pasty white in the process.

  “Dead body!”

  Chapter 1

  Sean Cavanaugh was accustomed to being the first one in the crime lab each morning. As the day shift crime scene lab manager, he liked getting a jump start on the day, as well as any work that might have been left over from the night before.

  He had a top-notch, highly skilled crew that needed no hand-holding or close overseeing, beyond what might have been deemed necessary from a general organizational standpoint.

  However, he could no longer lay claim to being the first one in each morning, not since his newest crime scene investigator had transferred in from out of state a little over nine months ago. Susannah Quinn, affectionately referred to by the people who worked with her as Suzie Q, seemed to always be somewhere on the premises no matter what the hour. She came in before anyone else, and no matter how late Sean stayed, she frequently stayed even longer. She also pulled double shifts on occasion and thought nothing of covering for her fellow CSI agents if they called in sick or took an unexpected vacation day.

  The fact that she didn’t rust in the occasional California rain was just about the only thing that convinced Sean the newest addition to the team wasn’t a robot.

  Walking into the lab on the way to his office, Sean, father of seven, uncle of countless more, many of whom were on the Aurora police force, stopped by Suzie’s work area and set down a large covered cup of coffee he had picked up on his way in to work.

  “Good morning. What’s this?” she asked her superior, nodding at the container.

  He’d picked up a smaller container of black coffee for himself. Sean liked his coffee the way he preferred his cases: simple. Young people, he’d discovered, liked creative coffee.

  “I’m told it’s the latest in fad coffee,” he told her.

  “And you bought it for me?” Suzie asked uncertainly.

  Was he doing it in order to soften a blow? she couldn’t help wondering. She’d come to like Sean Cavanaugh a great deal, since taking this position at the crime lab, but she had paid a painful price to learn to take nothing—and no one—at face value.

  Sean nodded. “I knew you’d be here.” After removing the lid from his own coffee, he paused to take a sip of the black liquid, savoring the heat as it wound through his veins and kick-started his system. “You know, Suzie,” he went on, snapping the lid back on the container, “indentured servitude was abolished in this country about four centuries ago. People who get paid for what they do for a living get to keep regular hours—at least most of the time. That means—in most cases—they come in at a reasonable hour in the morning and then go home at a reasonable hour at night.”

  She smiled at him. It was a sunny smile that lit up a room and was meant to put whoever was speaking to her at ease. For the most part, it did, but every so often Sean had a feeling there was something behind the smile that no one was supposed to see. A secret that only Suzie was privy to.

  Since he was a firm believer in other people’s privacy, Sean made no effort to push through the barriers. He did, however, do what he could to make it clear to Suzie that if she ever needed to talk about anything—and that included subjects that had nothing whatsoever to do with work—she could always talk to him.

  “I know that,” she responded cheerfully. Reaching into the bottom drawer of her desk, she pulled out the small messenger bag she kept there. Taking out her wallet, she asked, “What do I owe you for the coffee?”

  “How about you go home early for a change and we’ll call it even?” Sean suggested.

  It wasn’t a deal Suzie felt she could honor. She shook her head, sending her straight hair swinging.

  “That’s okay. I don’t mind staying longer if the job calls for it,” she replied. “Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I left early.”

  She thought Sean would drop the subject there, but she thought wrong. He actually had a list of suggestions ready for her. “You could get a hobby, get a pet, catch a movie, enroll in a cooking class, learn to windsurf.” The smile on his lips was nothing if not encouraging as he paused before adding, “The possibilities are endless.”

  One by one Suzie addressed his points matter-of-factly. “My hobby is crime solving. With the hours I keep, I wouldn�
�t leave a pet alone all day—it wouldn’t be fair. There’s nothing currently playing in the movie theaters that I want to see. And FYI, I already know how to cook and windsurf,” she concluded. “Besides, I like my job, so why shouldn’t I put in some extra hours every now and then?”

  Sean bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that it was a lot more than “every now and then.” It seemed she put in extra hours every day.

  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he said with a laugh.

  Suzie was careful when she made her response. She didn’t want Sean thinking of her as being argumentative. “At least for the points you raised.”

  Sean looked at the young woman thoughtfully. The way Suzie had worded her reply made him think that there was something she didn’t have an answer to, something she wasn’t willing to talk about. He was tempted to ask if he was right, but again, that would be prying, and if she wanted him to know more than what she’d said, she would have told him.

  The woman was a puzzle, no doubt about it. But puzzles took time to solve. Time and patience. Fortunately, he had both.

  “Then I’ll leave you to those reports.” He started to leave, but then paused to add one more thing. “You do realize that you’re probably the only one of my people who willingly sits down to face reports without being hounded and threatened to do it.”

  That in itself had him wondering about her. Susannah Quinn was young, beautiful and smart. Surely she had to have a life beyond these four walls and the crime scenes she investigated.

  But from all indications, as far as he could see, she didn’t. There were no pictures on her desk, no mention of family or friends. There wasn’t even a next-of-kin or the name of someone to notify in case of an emergency on her work application.

  Why?

  Suzie turned his comparison over in her head. “Paperwork isn’t exactly something people really aspire to do.”

  “But you do it,” Sean pointed out.

  To her, paperwork was something to do to stave off going home and being alone with her thoughts. With her memories.

 
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