Cavanaugh on Duty(24)

He was only vaguely aware of who Matt Callaghan was. He was still trying to become familiar with the names of various police detectives.

“Congratulations,” Esteban said.

“Thanks.” For a moment, Sean stepped outside his position as head of the lab and smiled at Esteban. “Why don’t you come to the ceremony? Everyone’s invited.”

“I doubt if everyone’s invited,” Esteban responded, then saw by the expression on Kari’s face that, just possibly, his assumption was inaccurate.

That seemed impossible...and yet, from what he’d picked up around town, the Cavanaughs were an extremely outgoing family—

Kari laughed at her partner. “Obviously, you haven’t heard about the famous Andrew Cavanaugh get-togethers. I’m beginning to think the man is a direct descendent of one of those characters out of Aesop’s fables, the one who had a jug that was never empty, no matter how much you poured out of it, and a basket that never ran out of bread, no matter how many loaves you removed from it.”

Totally confused now, he looked at Sean for some sort of an explanation. “Is she going to start making sense soon?”

“Actually, she is making sense in her own way,” Sean replied with a laugh. “It seems that for some reason, my brother knows how to whip up food for the masses without breaking a sweat. I’ve seen it for myself. No matter how many people turn up for an occasion, no one ever goes away from his door hungry, or thirsty—or disappointed, for that matter,” he added with a smile.

“And he just lives for birthdays, weddings and christenings,” Destiny chimed in.

“And whatever you do,” Kari told him with a great deal of enthusiasm, “you really don’t want to miss out on one of his Christmas celebrations.”

The day held no special allure for him, or any special significance anymore. To Esteban, Christmas had become just another day, like all the other days that came before it and all the days that came after. But he instinctively knew that his opinion would not exactly go over well with these people, so he kept it to himself and merely asked, “Why?”

It was Sean who answered him. “Because Andrew really pulls out all the stops. That includes coming up with new recipes, new ideas. Everything to make the holiday even bigger and better than the year before. I haven’t been a member of the family for all that long, but I’ve never known him to disappoint.”

“Wait, aren’t you a Cavanaugh?” Esteban asked. “The former chief of police’s younger brother?”

At least, that was what he’d heard—not that he paid strict attention to anything that wasn’t directly related to his own survival. But everyone seemed to either be friends with a Cavanaugh or have a story about them.

“Yes, but due to a mix-up at the hospital many years ago, I came on the scene rather late,” Sean explained.

Kari saw the befuddled expression whisper across Esteban’s ruggedly handsome features before it disappeared. He had obviously learned to keep his thoughts locked away for the most part. She leaned over in his direction and murmured, “I’ll explain later.”

The promise intrigued him. Her breath, warm and enticing along his cheek and neck, intrigued him more. He succeeded in keeping his reaction from being evident. No one looking at him would have guessed that he was actually reacting to the woman next to him rather than listening to the man standing in front of him.

“But I didn’t call you both down here to talk about my pending nuptials,” Sean announced, suddenly looking serious again. “The M.E. finished his preliminary exam and thought you might be interested in seeing what he found folded up and stuffed into the victim’s mouth.”

“His mouth?” Kari echoed. “The killer put something into Hays’s mouth?” The guy really was sick, she thought. “Why?”

“It’ll make more sense once you see what he stuffed into the victim’s mouth,” her father promised. So saying, he produced an eight-by-eleven flat plastic envelope. Inside was a colorful sheet that had obviously been torn out of a magazine. The page had been crumpled and some of the wording was ruined because of moisture, most likely saliva.

“My best guess would be that it was an act of hostility,” Sean told them.

“An act of hostility,” Esteban repeated. “You mean over and above savagely slashing the guy’s throat?” he asked.

Sean chuckled to himself. “Point taken. We’re dealing with one very angry individual,” he told the two detectives as he nodded at the sealed piece of evidence.

“So you do think it’s the same guy,” Kari said, watching her father’s face.

Sean indicated the magazine page on the table with his eyes. “What do you think?”

Kari looked down at the photograph on the magazine page. Though not as clear as it could have been because of the damage done by the saliva, it was a photograph of a Greek goddess holding up the scales of justice.

“Well, it’s official,” Kari sighed.

Esteban quirked a dark brow in her direction. “What is?”

“Our guy’s a serial killer. Three’s the magic number. And this makes three.” She looked at her father. “Anything else?”

“Not right now,” he answered. Kari turned toward Esteban. “Okay, back to the drawing board,” she said, resigned. “See you later, Dad. Destiny—” She gestured toward the young woman.

Esteban said nothing, only nodded at the head of the lab before falling into step beside Kari as they retraced their steps back to the squad room.

Only when they had gotten back to their desks and to the bulletin board that was the source of frustration to them both did he finally say anything at all.

“Maybe there’s something in the third victim’s life that’ll lead us back to the other two.”

Kari’s mouth dropped open as she looked at him in surprise. “That’s the most optimistic thing I think I’ve heard you say so far. Way to go,” she said, cheering him on.

He was afraid of that. He’d noticed that she had a habit of expecting more of the same once something went her way.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he warned.

“I’ll try to contain myself,” she promised, not even bothering to try to hide her amused grin. And then, after a beat, she decided to do a little reinforcement. “He was serious, you know.”

He was busy trying to put the pieces together and her comment came out of nowhere, disorienting him. “Who was serious about what?”

“My father. About inviting you to the wedding,” she reiterated.

His brows drew together. She was kidding, right? “Why would your father, the head of the department’s crime lab, want me at his wedding?”

“Why not?” Kari countered. He still didn’t get it, did he? Her family didn’t operate by the usual rules. They made friends, not acquaintances—especially when it appeared that a person needed a friend.

“Because he doesn’t know me from Adam,” Esteban emphasized. That seemed like more than enough reason to him.

“I think he knows you a little better than that,” Kari said. “Besides, you’re my partner. That’s enough for my father.” She searched his face, trying to see if any of this was getting through to him. How closed off was this man, anyway? “Didn’t anyone tell you that we’re all one big, happy family here?”

“I must have missed that memo,” he snickered. He didn’t want to get pulled in with these people. Something told him that there was a chance they could actually get to him, actually form a crack in his wall. Which was dangerous. Because cracks allowed things to seep in—and inevitably, that left room for colossal pain. He’d been there, done that.

He didn’t want to go through it again.

“Well, I’m giving you the audio version,” Kari informed him. “The police department is actually one big family and the Cavanaughs are considered a subset of that. Although, to be honest, I think we’d probably be one big, happy family even if we were a bunch of farmers and not part of the police department.” She added speculatively, “But being part of law enforcement probably works better for us....” Finished for the moment, she waited for Esteban to respond. When he didn’t, she had no choice but to press, “So, is that a yes?”

His thoughts already elsewhere, he looked at her distractedly. “Yes to what?”

“You have got to do something about your attention span, Fernandez,” she insisted. “You sound like a husband in training.” She reworded her question more completely, enunciating each word. “Are you going to come to my father’s wedding next Saturday?”

She wasn’t going to give him any peace until he agreed, although why it mattered to her one way or another he hadn’t a clue. Still, to get a little respite he said, “Yeah, sure, why not?”