Cavanaugh Hero Read online

  Aurora’s finest become walking targets in USA TODAY bestselling author Marie Ferrarella’s Cavanaugh Justice miniseries

  A serial cop killer has Aurora’s police force up in arms. And when the former chief gets hit, it becomes personal for Detective Declan Cavanaugh and his beautiful new partner, Charley Randolph.

  Charley first took notice of the sexy, devil-may-care detective at the academy. Now she has no desire to get involved with a fellow officer. But as the bodies pile up and the threats grow more ominous, Charley must trust Declan not to reveal her true reason for working the case. Racing against the clock draws them closer—their forbidden attraction is as impossible to deny as the grave danger they’re in.

  “As tempting as that might be,” Declan told her, “I’m speaking as the primary on this case, not as someone who’s attracted to you.”

  Charley’s eyes widened. Was that another slip of the tongue? Or…? “Are you?” she heard herself asking. At least, it sounded like her voice, although for the life of her, Charley couldn’t have said where her question had come from.

  The parking lot was deserted. The skeleton crew that was on duty had found parking in the front of the building. There was no one else in the immediate vicinity, no vehicles passing by. No one, he was acutely aware, to see them.

  “No,” Declan answered, threading his fingers through her hair just before he cupped the back of Charley’s head. The words slipped from his lips in a hushed breath before he lowered his mouth to hers and did what he realized he’d been wanting to do since the first time he’d laid eyes on her seven years ago.

  Dear Reader,

  Once upon a time there was a writer who put her longing for a large family down on paper, and a five-book series about a police family was born. She became so enamored with the family that when the fifth book was finished, she came up with more family members, who in turn needed their own books. Twenty-six books later, the saga was scheduled to finally come to an end. Ah, but saying goodbye was not something this writer did well—or willingly. The upshot is, there will be more because she—I—in her desperation, came up with a reason why there would be more of these people who are united by blood, a last name and the desire to serve, protect and find that one special person to love. At this point I have to admit that writing about the Cavanaughs has become an addiction I have no real desire to kick. As long as there is at least one reader out there who wants to read just one more Cavanaugh book, I will be here, writing my heart out and happily obliging.

  As always, I thank you for reading, and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.

  Love,

  Marie

  CAVANAUGH HERO

  Marie Ferrarella

  Books by Marie Ferrarella

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  Private Justice #1664

  **The Doctor’s Guardian #1675

  *A Cavanaugh Christmas #1683

  Special Agent’s Perfect Cover #1688

  *Cavanaugh’s Bodyguard #1699

  *Cavanaugh Rules #1715

  *Cavanaugh’s Surrender #1725

  Colton Showdown #1732

  A Widow’s Guilty Secret #1736

  *Cavanaugh on Duty #1751

  %The Colton Ransom #1760

  *Mission: Cavanaugh Baby #1767

  *Cavanaugh Hero #1788 #1788

  Harlequin Special Edition

  ‡A Match for the Doctor #2117

  ‡What the Single Dad Wants… #2122

  ^The Baby Wore a Badge #2131

  #Fortune’s Valentine Bride #2167

  ‡Once Upon a Matchmaker #2192

  -Real Vintage Maverick #2210

  ‡A Perfectly Imperfect Match #2240

  ***A Small Fortune #2246

  ‡Ten Years Later... #2252

  ‡Wish Upon a Matchmaker #2264

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Diamond in the Rough #1910

  ΏThe Bride with No Name #1917

  ΏMistletoe and Miracles #1941

  $Plain Jane and the Playboy #1946

  ΏTravis’s Appeal #1958

  Loving the Right Brother #1977

  The 39-Year-Old Virgin #1983

  ΏA Lawman for Christmas #2006

  §Prescription for Romance #2017

  ‡Doctoring the Single Dad #2031

  ‡Fixed Up with Mr. Right? #2041

  ‡Finding Happily-Ever-After #2060

  ‡Unwrapping the Playboy #2084

  =Fortune’s Just Desserts #2107

  Silhouette Romantic Suspense

  **A Doctor’s Secret #1503

  **Secret Agent Affair #1511

  *Protecting His Witness #1515

  Colton’s Secret Service #1528

  The Heiress’s 2-Week Affair #1556

  *Cavanaugh Pride #1571

  *Becoming a Cavanaugh #1575

  The Agent’s Secret Baby #1580

  *The Cavanaugh Code #1587

  *In Bed with the Badge #1596

  *Cavanaugh Judgment #1612

  Colton by Marriage #1616

  *Cavanaugh Reunion #1623

  **In His Protective Custody #1644

  Harlequin American Romance

  Pocketful of Rainbows #145

  ΔThe Sheriff’s Christmas Surprise #1329

  ΔRamona and the Renegade #1338

  ΔThe Doctor’s Forever Family #1346

  Montana Sheriff #1369

  Holiday in a Stetson #1378 “The Sheriff Who Found Christmas”

  ΔLassoing the Deputy #1402

  ΔA Baby on the Ranch #1410

  ΔA Forever Christmas #1426

  ΔHis Forever Valentine #1462

  *Cavanaugh Justice

  **The Doctors Pulaski

  ΏKate’s Boys

  $The Fortunes of Texas: Return to Red Rock

  §The Baby Chase

  ‡Matchmaking Mamas

  =The Fortunes of Texas: Lost…and Found

  ΔForever, Texas

  ^Montana Mavericks: The Texans Are Coming!

  #The Fortunes of Texas: Whirlwind Romance

  -Montana Mavericks: Back in the Saddle

  ***The Fortunes of Texas: Southern Invasion

  %The Coltons of Wyoming

  Other titles by this author available in ebook format.

  MARIE FERRARELLA

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

  To all the readers who have been following the Cavanaughs since the first book and have asked for more.

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt

  Prologue

  The gunshot was muffled deliberately, the extension on the end of the gun barrel all but silencing the scream of the bullet. A bullet that ended a l
ife in less than a heartbeat.

  One minute the inebriated, off-duty police officer on the sofa was looking up with those pathetic, puppy-dog eyes, talking about some little two-bit who had strung him along; the next, he wasn’t talking at all and those puppy-dog eyes weren’t looking at anything anymore.

  The cop never knew what hit him, the shooter thought with satisfaction. He certainly hadn’t been expecting it, which was the whole point. The liquor had done its job, lulling the cop into a sense of complacency.

  The shooter relished every millisecond of the bullet’s flight upon release. Relished even more the irreversible damage done by that bullet once it buried itself in the intended target’s flesh.

  The shooter watched in captivated fascination as the last bit of light—and life—left Sergeant Matthew Holt’s gray eyes.

  And within the shooter’s head, the sound of the discharging weapon had roared its presence, declaring its mission to be accomplished.

  Justice.

  Nothing short of justice had been carried out. A death had been avenged.

  Vengeance doesn’t only belong to God, but to me, as well.

  “That’ll teach you,” the shooter said, addressing the blue-clad man on the sofa, the man with opened eyes that could no longer see.

  The smile widened along the thin lips, a smile that not only represented triumph over what had just happened, but also saw into the future and relished the deaths that were to be.

  “Don’t worry,” the shooter said to the dead man who lay sprawled on his once-white sectional sofa. “You’re not going to be alone for long. You’ll have a whole lot of company before I’m through.”

  The cold, heartless smile spread even wider in barely contained anticipation. That was all there was left to live for these days.

  Anticipation.

  And revenge.

  “Might even get crowded up there before I’m through.”

  The shooter laughed, envisioning the carnage. And then, just as suddenly, the laughter ceased, vanishing as if it had never existed at all.

  Sergeant Holt’s executioner took out an eight-by-ten sheet of paper that had carefully cut-out letters pasted on it, pristine letters that didn’t have even a smudge of fingerprints on them, thanks to the disposable plastic gloves on the shooter’s hands. The gloves were as antiseptic as any that were hospital-issued.

  Holding the sheet of paper, the shooter bent over the still man, careful not to step in any of the blood that was even now spilling out onto the floor directly below the body, pooling there at a mesmerizing pace.

  The paper kept slipping off the body.

  “Damn it,” the shooter snapped, swallowing a more ripe curse. The paper was supposed to stay on Holt’s chest. The chest that was no longer moving, no longer drawing breath.

  How the hell—?

  And then, just like that, there was an answer.

  The shooter rose, picked up a stapler off the victim’s desk and returned to the body. Leaning over the man who could no longer feel anything, the shooter stapled the note to his chest.

  “Now it won’t slip off,” the shooter announced in triumph, laughing again, the sound a sharp contrast to the still body on the bloodied sectional next to the coffee table.

  Dark brown eyes squinted as a mocking expression slipped over the shooter’s face. “Too bad you can’t put this lesson to any use.”

  Standing back, the shooter admired the sign stapled to the victim’s chest. In a flurry of uneven, mismatched letters, the note made a chilling promise: “Only the beginning.”

  The shooter paused for a few more seconds to admire the scene. There was an intense, overwhelming desire to smash the victim’s face in, but the shooter refrained from acting on it. Nothing could be allowed to mute the force of the message and if the victim’s face was obliterated, the power of the message might be lost. Because Holt was the first offender—but he was definitely not the last. Not by a very long shot.

  “You brought this on yourself” were the last words the shooter uttered before quietly slipping out of the house and into the darkness of a moonless night.

  The door was left unlocked, inviting discovery. And soon.

  Chapter 1

  She did what she could to keep the concern out of her voice, even though it steadily increased with every mile she drove.

  “Look, I know that Melissa ripped out your heart, but the best revenge is living well, remember? You taught me that. You said you have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start all over again. And if you don’t get your butt in gear, big brother, I will sing the rest of that song and we all know how well I can carry a tune—but if I have to, I will and you’ll only have yourself to blame if your ears fall off.”

  Holding her breath, she flew through the intersection, just as the light was turning red. It wasn’t the best way for a police detective to act, but she couldn’t shake the sense of urgency squeezing her chest more and more tightly.

  “Seriously, Matt, I’m worried about you. It’s not like you not to show up at work for two days in a row—and not even call with an excuse that a four-year-old could see through. I know the bottle has had a certain anesthetizing allure for you lately, but you’ve been restricting it to nights when you don’t have work the next day. This is a giant leap forward for you and it’s not a good one.”

  She sighed, searching for something reassuring to say.

  “Look at it this way, at least you found out now, before you married her. What if you had married her? What if there were kids in the mix? ’Member how bad it was for us when the old man split and Mom got all flaky before she cut out on us, too? We survived that, right? We—you,” she corrected herself, “will survive this, too. And this time, you can lean on me. It’s about time that I paid you back for all your support. I know that I owe you big-time.”

  Detective Charlotte Randolph—Charley to everyone who knew her—had kept up a steady stream of chatter on her cell phone via the Bluetooth piece attached to her ear for the past fifteen minutes in an attempt to deny that she really was in a high state of agitation. Sergeant Matthew Holt hadn’t shown up for work or called in for the past two days, neither of which were even close to standard behavior for the police officer.

  Matt was her older half brother, a fact that they had both kept quiet. Matt’s reason was because he wanted her to succeed on her own, without any possible fallout—good or bad—that might come her way because she was related to him. He wanted there to be no question that any success she achieved was hers alone.

  Charley went along with the secrecy only because where Matt was concerned, she had a very soft spot in her heart and he could ask her to do anything.

  If not for him putting his life on hold when their mother had taken off like that, Charley was certain things in her life might have turned out very differently. For one thing, she would have been swallowed up by the system for three years. She was fifteen and Matt eighteen when Maura Allen Holt Randolph took off with the latest man in her life, leaving behind two offspring without so much as a goodbye note. Certainly not with any money other than what Matt had in the pocket of his jeans, money he’d earned working part-time in a hardware store after school. Their mother had even taken the small amount Matt had hidden in his shoe in the back of his closet. Maura’s credo was what was hers was hers and what was yours was hers if she could find it. She was very good at finding things, Charley thought.

  For the most part, Matt had raised himself and when she had come along three years later, he had raised her, as well. On the whole, he was far more enchanted with the baby sister he was charged with watching than the woman who had given birth to her. Maura made it a point to tell them more than once that there was “always more where you came from,” making sure that neither one of them felt they were special in any way.

  But Matt had
gone out of his way to make her feel as if she was special, Charley recalled now with a fond smile. It was Matt who remembered her birthday and always found something to give her, no matter how small a gift it might seem. Like the year he found a doll someone had thrown out in the Dumpster in the alley behind their building. He’d spent days cleaning it up, making it into a presentable doll to give her. He even managed to sew up—awkwardly—the rips in Mattie’s dress.

  That was what she’d called the doll. Mattie. After her brother.

  And she still had it, perched on the upper shelf in her closet. It was a constant tangible reminder of her brother’s love.

  Matthew was the reason behind almost everything she did. She’d joined the police force because that was the career that Matt had picked for himself. She would have gladly followed him to hell and back if that was the path he’d settled on, but the Aurora Police Department turned out to be the career choice for him—which was just fine with her.

  And then Matt fell for Melissa. Hard. Like the proverbial ton of bricks. When he did, she had psyched herself up to accept second place in her brother’s life, thrilled that he had found someone to love. That he was finally going to have time to do all the normal things: get married, have kids, buy a house and experience the wonderfully mundane life they’d never had while growing up.

  Except, Charley now thought bitterly, that the woman her brother had fallen for so terribly hard had an icicle in place of a heart. Once the novelty of their relationship had worn off for her, Melissa thought nothing of stepping out on Matt.

  She took everything he had to offer her—gifts, money as well as his undying love—and then broke off their relationship, grinding his feelings into the dust as if they were no more than bothersome gnats.

  Matt never knew what hit him, never knew what he had done wrong. And even though she kept trying to make her brother see that the fault was not with him but with Melissa, nothing she could do or say could help her get through to him.

  That was when the drinking started.

  And apparently, it still hadn’t stopped even though he’d promised her that it had, that he had taken his last drink, wasted his last hour mourning the loss of Melissa.

 
-->