Cavanaugh In Plain Sight (Cavanaugh Justice Book 42) Read online

  “Toni?” Krys guessed.

  Sean nodded. “Toni, or whoever will be on duty tomorrow.”

  “Could I make a request that it be Toni?” Krys asked.

  Morgan glanced at Krys. “Any special reason you would want her?” he asked.

  “Actually, yes,” she answered. “I already know her and I won’t have any qualms about asking Toni questions. If there’s another ME on duty, that ME might have a problem with answering my questions. After all, I’m not part of the department.”

  “Getting Toni shouldn’t be a problem,” Sean assured her. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll put in an official request for Toni to be on duty.”

  Her smile, Morgan caught himself thinking as she flashed it at his uncle, was positively sunny.

  “I’d really appreciate that,” she told the CSI unit head.

  “My pleasure,” Sean said with sincerity.

  “Okay,” Morgan declared, slipping his hand against her waist and beginning to guide Krys toward the hallway. “I think we’ve made enough progress for one day,” he told her as well as his uncle. “Time for you to go home.”

  Krys began to protest Morgan’s decision, but her body was worn out and completely exhausted. All this had taken a lot out of her.

  “You might want to listen to him,” Sean advised her, reading her expression. “Morgan is easygoing, but he’s been known to browbeat people on occasion,” he said, his mouth curving in amusement. “It’s not a pretty sight, trust me.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she told the man, taking her leave. As soon as they were alone and heading toward the elevator, she told Morgan, “I like your uncle.”

  “Which one?” Morgan asked innocently.

  Krys began to protest that there was only one man she could be referring to, but then she stopped. “I forgot you had a whole slew of uncles,” she confessed. “I’m talking about the one I first met when this whole thing got started. Your Uncle Sean.”

  Morgan’s smile was genuine. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

  “I didn’t say that so you could flatter him,” she pointed out. “I just wanted to say that I thought he was a really nice guy.”

  “He is,” Morgan told her. “Especially given what he’s gone through when he was younger.”

  That immediately piqued her curiosity. “Why?” she asked. “What did he go through when he was younger?”

  Morgan remembered hearing the story when he was a lot younger. “Uncle Sean was the one who the hospital had gotten mixed up at birth.”

  They were on the first floor now and she stared at Morgan as they got off the elevator. “Come again?”

  “When Uncle Sean’s mother, my grandmother, gave birth to him, there was another baby born in the hospital at the exact same time. Somehow, because of their same coloring and size, not to mention that the parents’ last names were similar, Uncle Sean and the other baby were mixed up at birth.”

  “So what happened?” Krys asked. “How did the mix-up finally come to light?” She couldn’t begin to imagine how that had all gotten untangled.

  “Well, it didn’t, not for a long time, actually. As it turned out, the other baby, the one the family all thought was Uncle Sean, died before his first birthday. The funny thing was, Grandpa’s wife always swore there was a mix-up, that the baby the hospital handed to her wasn’t hers.

  “Eventually, thanks to DNA tests, the mistake finally came to light, although not before Grandma died. As for Uncle Sean, he always claimed that he felt as if he was ‘different’ from the family he was supposedly ‘born’ into. Eventually,” he told her, “mistakes surface, even if it does take a long time.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Certainly can’t say that you people aren’t interesting,” Krys commented.

  He thought of the phone call he was planning to make later on in the evening, once Krys finally went to bed. Uncle Andrew was really going to enjoy meeting this one. “No, you certainly can’t say that.”

  She gave him a look. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  The first thing he thought of was that she had guessed he was going to ask his Uncle Andrew to throw a party introducing her to everyone despite her protests, but he decided not to admit as much until she confronted him with it.

  “And what am I planning to do?” he asked as he drove Krys to her home.

  She answered him seriously. “You’re trying to divert me with these bits and pieces of family history so I’m not focusing on the fact that the person I thought was trying to kill me turned out to be dead and we’re back to square one.”

  Morgan was about to deny it, then thought better of it. “I guess you caught me,” he told her. “Seems like this is one time a Kowalski is smarter that a Cavanaugh.”

  “I don’t know about smarter, but at least I know when I’m being snowed,” she told him.

  “I guess I won’t try to do that again,” he said innocently. “Want to pick up something to eat on the way home?”

  “Are you in the mood for Chinese?” Krys asked.

  “I’m in the mood for food,” he answered. “It doesn’t matter what kind.”

  “Okay,” she agreed with a grin, appreciating what he was trying to do, “mystery food it is.”

  Chapter 15

  Morgan looked over toward Krys’s desk. She had been sitting there for most of the evening. She’d even eaten most of her takeout Chinese dinner there while working on her laptop. So far, he had noticed her head drooping at least three separate times. At least one of those times he had been certain that she had fallen asleep, but then her head had popped up because she had managed to wake herself.

  “Maybe you should think about packing it in and going to bed,” Morgan suggested when he saw her subtly trying to smother a yawn.

  Krys looked as if he’d just insulted her. “I’m a little too old to need someone telling me to go to bed,” she informed him. “And I wish you’d stop doing it.” It was not the first time he had told her that she should go to bed. She was particularly irritated because deep down, part of her agreed with him, but she’d be damned if she was going to come right out and say as much. “But hey, if you’re so obsessed about being tired, maybe you’re the one who should go to bed.”

  Morgan merely smiled at her. After all the time he had put in on stakeouts, he was well versed in the fine art of catching a few winks whenever they were available.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said to Krys. “I can always grab a catnap or two whenever I feel the need for one.”

  Krys squared her shoulders. “Well, the same goes for me,” she informed him, struggling to stifle another yawn. “As a matter of fact, I’m as fresh as a daisy.”

  Right, he thought. If that daisy was about to fold up and wilt. However, wanting to avoid an argument, he kept his opinion to himself.

  Five minutes later, Krys gave up the ghost and had closed her eyes again. This time, though, they remained closed. The sound of the dedicated journalist’s even breathing told him that she had lost her battle against Morpheus.

  While she had been busy trying not to fall asleep, Morgan had been busy with his own work. He had been reviewing all the available surveillance footage that had been gathered from the nearby area where Claire had gone for her morning jog. When he finally spotted something that looked like it might provide a clue as to what had gone down, he enlarged it.

  Staring at the photo from every possible angle and trying to get a clearer view, he started to think that he was going cross-eyed.

  “Hey, Kowalski,” Morgan said, not looking in her direction. “What does this look like to you?”

  When she made no response, Morgan raised his voice and asked her the same question again. Still not receiving an answer, he looked over toward her. Apparently, she had fallen asleep and continued to remain that way rather than jolting awake
.

  “How about that?” he murmured under his breath in surprise. “I guess you really were tired this time.”

  Krys had folded her arms in front of her to lay down her head just for a moment and had, apparently, instantly fallen asleep.

  Morgan rose to his feet and crossed over to her desk to check her out before he made the logical assumption.

  Circling her from both sides to make sure he wasn’t making a mistake, he grinned to himself. She continued sleeping.

  He debated between waking her up so she could finally go to bed and just leaving her where she was. But from where he stood, neither solution was acceptable. If he did wake her up, since she was so incredibly stubborn, for all he knew she just might deliberately force herself to remain awake. And if he left her where she was, sleeping with her head on the desk, she could very well wind up having one hell of a crick in her neck when she woke up in the morning.

  There was a third alternative.

  “Looks like I’m going to have to put you to bed whether you like it or not,” he told her softly. He sighed, shaking his head. “You know, Kowalski, this would be a whole lot easier if you weren’t so damn stubborn.”

  Moving very carefully so he wouldn’t wake her, Morgan bent down and slipped one arm just beneath her legs, another around her shoulders. And then, very slowly, he picked her up.

  “C’mon, Sleeping Beauty,” he quietly whispered. “Your bedchamber awaits.”

  With that, moving at an extremely slow pace so as not to wake her up, Morgan carried Krys to her bedroom. Halfway there, he froze as she murmured something under her breath and then curled up against his chest.

  He had just started walking again when she tucked her arm around his neck and sighed.

  Morgan couldn’t help reacting to the feel of her body up against his, to the scent of her hair as it seemed to curl its way through his senses. Most of all, he had a hard time resisting the very strong pull of desire that insisted on telegraphing itself throughout his entire body.

  “You do know how to make this hard on a guy, Kowalski,” he whispered softly to the woman he was holding in his arms.

  Making certain not to jostle her as he walked, Morgan very carefully made his way into her bedroom and then, bending over in a painfully slow manner, he laid Krys down on her bed.

  Once he had her on her bed, Morgan didn’t even attempt to take off her shoes, much less any other article of clothing. He just spread a blanket over her because the nights were still getting chilly this time of year and he didn’t want Krys getting cold.

  Morgan withdrew from the room very quietly, eased the door and then managed to tiptoe away.

  He returned to the sofa in the living room where he had been keeping vigil at night.

  Time to get back to his post.

  But first, before he made himself comfortable for the night, Morgan had one more thing that he wanted to take care of. Taking out his cell phone, he pressed buttons on the keypad that he was so familiar with he could do it in his sleep. Having completed the sequence, he waited while the phone rang on the other end.

  When it finally did, he heard it quickly being answered.

  “Morgan,” the deep, resonant voice on the other end of the phone said. “Is anything wrong? You don’t usually call at this time of night. Or, for that matter, you don’t really call at all,” Andrew noted. “What can I do for you?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong,” Morgan quickly told the former chief of police. He paused, looking for the right words. All of this had seemed so much clearer in his head, but now that he had the man on the phone, he found himself slightly at a loss for words. He decided the best course of action was to dive right in. “Um, I don’t know how much you’ve heard through our family grapevine, but it turns out that Finn’s new wife, Nikki, has a twin sister.”

  He heard Andrew’s deep laugh resonate against his ear. “Yes, I’ve heard,” Andrew replied. “I’m retired from the police force, Morgan. I’m not dead. I doubt if there’s anything you can tell me about this young woman that I don’t already know. I have my sources.”

  The thing of it was, Morgan thought, his uncle was probably right. The man did have his finger on the pulse of events concerning things that had to do with the police department and all the people connected to it, especially his family.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you,” Morgan apologized. “The truth of it is, I didn’t want to take anything for granted.”

  Andrew chuckled again. “No need to apologize, Morgan. You were just being thorough. That’s what makes you a good cop. Now, is that the main reason you called, to let me know about Krys, or is there something else?”

  “There’s something else,” Morgan admitted.

  “Ah. Well, let’s have it. The night’s not getting any younger,” he prompted, “and neither am I.”

  “How would you like to have an excuse to throw one of those famous family get-togethers of yours?” Morgan asked, then quickly began to explain, “I don’t usually like to impose like this, but—”

  “Morgan?” Andrew said, raising his voice and cutting through his nephew’s rhetoric before he could get carried away.

  Morgan abruptly stopped. “Yes, sir?”

  “How hard have your superiors been working you lately?” Andrew asked.

  The question caught him up short. “I don’t understand, sir.”

  “I figure they had to be working you hard in order to make you forget how much I enjoy having everyone over to the house for a party,” Andrew explained. Then he got down to the crux of the matter. “Since when do you feel the need to tiptoe around asking me to have a family party? This is me, boy. I neither need nor want an excuse. Just a simple ‘go-ahead’ is more than sufficient.

  “Now, is there a specific reason we’re having this gathering, or is it just because you suddenly have an overwhelming craving for one of my dishes?”

  There was no conceit involved in the question, just genuine curiosity.

  “Nikki’s twin sister is being stalked,” Morgan began, then stopped. “I know you already know that.”

  Rather than confirm the assumption or remind him about what he had just said earlier, Andrew merely told his nephew, “Go on.”

  “I thought it might make Krys feel less alone right now if she met some more of the family and felt their support. And since you put on the best spread in town, I thought that might just be an added bonus for her.”

  “Not that I needed an excuse,” Andrew told his nephew, “but it’s always nice to know the reason behind why something is being requested. So, any particular time you’d like me to throw this little shindig?” he asked.

  He felt that he had already made enough requests of his uncle. “Whatever works for you, Uncle Andrew, is fine.”

  “All right then, we’ll make it the same time as always. Any time after eleven in the morning,” Andrew told him. “So, anything else?”

  “Yes. How do you do it, Uncle Andrew?” Morgan asked the man, curious.

  “How do I do what?” Andrew asked.

  “Feed the masses the way you do. There always seems to be enough food put out to feed everyone no matter how many of us show up and how many servings we take.”

  “Number one, I like to cook and number two, everyone always chips in whatever amount they can whenever they can. They do it out of courtesy. Otherwise—” Andrew laughed “—I would have had to sell the house a long time ago.” Morgan could have sworn he heard the grin in his uncle’s voice. “You people do tend to eat like piranhas.”

  “Sell the house, eh?” Morgan repeated. “Ever consider not putting out such a huge spread anymore?” he questioned.

  “Nope, never once,” Andrew answered. “I enjoy cooking, enjoy feeding my family and really enjoy their company. As far as I’m concerned, for me this is a win-win situation,” Andrew admitted. “So, thi
s Sunday all right with you?”

  “This Sunday is perfect for me,” Morgan said with enthusiasm. “Thanks for doing this, Uncle Andrew.”

  “Thanks for asking me to do it,” Andrew responded. “Nothing I like better than having an excuse to get everyone together.”

  Morgan thought of something. “You planning on throwing another one of these parties when Nik and Finn get back?”

  Tickled, Andrew laughed heartily. “You’d better believe I am,” he told Morgan. And then he paused for a moment as he listened to a melodic voice calling him in the background. “That sounds like my better half calling me. I’d better go—unless there’s something else you need to tell me.”

  “No, that’s it for now, sir. As long as you tell me if you need anything from me for this thing,” Morgan thought to add.

  “I will,” Andrew promised. “All right, then,” he said, “Sunday.” Just before he hung up, Andrew told his nephew, “Keep her safe, Morgan.”

  “I am doing my best,” Morgan told him.

  “Can’t ask for more than that,” Andrew said as he ended the call.

  You can if your best isn’t good enough, Morgan thought for no apparent reason, putting his cell phone back in his pocket.

  They were making progress. They had a name, and presumably a body to go along with that name, for the man who had been known as Bluebeard. But that still didn’t help them find whoever had attempted to kill Krys not once but twice.

  “Who were you just talking to?” Krys asked, suddenly walking into the living room. Her appearance caught Morgan off guard. After all, she’d been sound asleep a few minutes ago.

  Surprised, Morgan asked, “What are you doing up?”

  “The question is,” Krys corrected him, “what was I doing down in the first place? I woke up to find myself in bed. The last thing I remember, I was sitting at my desk, working on the latest installment of my article about Weatherly’s so-called miracle drug. I’m planning on dedicating it to Claire,” she told him as an aside. “Now, how did I get into bed?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Well, you fell asleep. I tried to wake you up. When you didn’t, I carried you to bed.”