Deadliest mission, p.1
Deadliest Mission, page 1
“God, Skylar, I can’t stand the idea of never being able to see her again.”
Skylar didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. She could feel a weight spreading out like icy fingers in her chest as she put herself in his place.
“Would you like a minute?”
“No,” he answered in a deadly quiet voice. “What I would like is to somehow get a lifetime back.” He turned to look at Skylar. “Carrie’s lifetime.”
His dark tone undulated through her. “With all my heart,” she whispered, “I really wish that I could give you that.” She sighed. “But I can’t.”
“I know,” he replied. He hadn’t meant to insinuate that she could.
Skylar shifted in her seat, her eyes all but boring into him. “But what I can give you is my solemn promise that I will get this guy who did this to your sister—and to you—no matter how long it takes.”
He looked at her then, her words hitting him dead center. She wasn’t just paying lip service, saying the right things. “You mean that, don’t you?”
Dear Reader,
I sincerely hope that by the time you get to read this letter, the words in it will no longer apply. The world will no longer be in a holding pattern and we will all be able to go on with our lives once again, well and happy. Not just because my son, Nik, and lovely daughter-in-law, Melany, have added another little soul to its number, but because the world had turned into a healthier, happier and upbeat place—despite the fact that my newest Cavanaugh book involves a serial killer whose world revolves entirely around himself.
The hero of the book is Cody Cassidy, a deputy sheriff from New Mexico. Cody makes his way to Aurora, California, where his twin sister, Carrie, moved to nine months ago. He hasn’t heard from Carrie in several months and Cody cannot shake the feeling that something is very wrong. His path crosses with Detective Skylar Cavanaugh, who is determined to help Cody find out what happened to his twin sister. Their quest has them encountering victims and a highly unusual serial killer out to line his own pockets. In the end, he gets what he deserves. Come find out just how and I hope this story winds up entertaining you.
As always, thank you for reading one of my books and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back!
With love and gratitude,
Marie Ferrarella
CAVANAUGH JUSTICE: UP CLOSE AND DEADLY
Marie Ferrarella
USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author Marie Ferrarella has written more than three hundred 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
Cavanaugh on Call
Cavanaugh Encounter
Cavanaugh Vanguard
Cavanaugh Cowboy
Cavanaugh’s Missing Person
Cavanaugh Stakeout
Cavanaugh in Plain Sight
Cavanaugh Justice: The Baby Trail
Cavanaugh Justice: Serial Affair
Cavanaugh Justice: Deadly Chase
Cavanaugh Justice: Up Close and Deadly
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
To
Autumn Ferrarella
Welcome to the world, Little One!
All my love,
G-Mama
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Excerpt from Protected by the Texas Rancher by Karen Whiddon
Prologue
The tightness in his stomach slammed into him when his second call in as many days to his twin sister went to voice mail. The tightness in his stomach coupled with the overall dark feeling that descended.
Something was definitely wrong.
Deputy Sheriff Cody Cassidy could feel it. Feel it all the way down his spine.
There were some who believed the myth of mental empathy between twins was just that. A myth. Well, they were welcome to their beliefs, Cody thought, but that didn’t change anything that he knew in his heart to be true. He and his twin sister, Carrie, had always had this unspoken mental empathy between them.
It wasn’t as if they lived in each other’s pocket. Since she had moved away, sometimes weeks would go by before they talked—but they always talked sooner or later. Usually sooner than later.
However it had been almost two months now. Almost two months and nothing. Not a word, not an email or a postcard, or even a simple text message in response from Carrie.
Nothing.
He could have put up with that if it wasn’t for the uneasy feeling undulating through him that something was off, something was wrong. And that uneasy feeling was growing stronger with each passing day.
Granted, he would be the first to admit that he hadn’t taken Carrie’s move out to Aurora, California, nine months ago all that well. But he had kept his misgivings to himself. Out loud he had told his twin to follow her dreams and that, no matter what happened, he would always be there for her.
At the very least, he had expected Carrie to keep in touch.
After all, Carrie had always been the sensible one, the one who had laid out her entire life for herself from the time she had been a very little girl. He had been the wild teen, drinking and carousing with his friends from early on, incurring her sad disapproval.
No one had been more surprised—and pleased—than Carrie when he had actually graduated college and gone on to become a sheriff’s deputy—like their father before him—in the little town of Kiowa, New Mexico, where he and Carrie had grown up. He, Carrie had told him proudly on the day he graduated, had finally gotten his act together. That was also the day she’d told him that she felt it was finally safe for her to leave town, to explore her own options to see what life had to offer her.
Once, she had felt that she’d had everything mapped out, but now, she’d confessed, she was not so sure. Maybe there were other directions for her to go in, other choices for her to make. Maybe her earlier choices had been too rigid for her.
Cody had told her that he felt she could be anything she wanted to be, to reach for the sky. The world was at her feet and completely wide open.
Maybe that was it, Cody reasoned, staring at the phone on his desk. Maybe she was just too busy sampling life to be bothered to pick up the phone.
Or call him back.
She had always been the responsible one. When their mother had had cancer, Carrie was the one who had dutifully come home after school every day to take care of Alice Cassidy, never complaining that she was being deprived of doing what all her friends were doing: having a good time. Instead, she’d claimed that when her mother had finally gotten well, that was truly the greatest day of her life. Cody knew that Carrie had really meant it.
His sister’s selfless behavior had been enough for Cody to straighten up and fly right, he reflected ruefully. Carrie had always been everyone’s shining example. Her positive outlook had been enough to get their father to view life in a brighter light and pull himself out of his own depression.
Carrie had always had the power to heighten everyone’s outlook.
And now, Cody thought with a sigh, he couldn’t get her to pick up the phone—or return a phone call.
Dropping the old-fashioned receiver into its cradle, he terminated the call that never had a chance to get started.
“Problem?” Sheriff Matt Holden asked, genuinely interested as he passed by Cody’s desk.
Cody raised his wide shoulders and then let them drop again in an almost helpless gesture. “It’s probably nothing.”
“But?” Holden asked, studying the young man’s chiseled, clean-shaven face.
“I can’t reach my sister.”
The sheriff was aware of the kind of bond that existed between the twins. He had known them since their early childhood.
He raised a graying eyebrow. “How long has it been?”
“Two months.”
The sheriff frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Carrie. Why don’t you take some time off and take a trip to her new home? See if you can find out what’s going on?” his father’s long-time friend suggested. “There might be a new beau in the picture.” As the father of four daughters of varying ages, Holden knew what that could be like. “It’s been a while since you took some time off,” he reminded Cody. “And there’s really nothing happening here that requires your attention.”
Cody nodded as his eyes met Holden’s dark brown ones. “Thanks, Sheriff. I think I just might do that.
He would have thought that just the idea of going out to California to see Carrie would make him feel better.
But it didn’t.
The knot in his stomach refused to lessen or go away.
Chapter 1
“Up and at ’em, Sky,” Detective Skylar Cavanaugh’s partner, Detective Beaumont Rio, announced as he walked into the Homicide Division’s squad room at a fast clip. It was barely eight o’clock in the morning.
Bleary-eyed, Skylar looked over at the much-too-bright-sounding man she had been partnered with ever since she had been awarded her detective shield less than a year ago.
“Not until my coffee has had a chance to kick in and work its magic,” she told Rio wearily. Served her right for staying out late last night and catching that movie, she silently lectured herself.
Holding the steaming mug of black coffee between her hands, Skylar took a long sip, relishing the way it coursed almost seductively through her veins.
Recently married, Rio’s newly acquired wider waistline bore testimony to how well he was being fed since he had exchanged vows with Marsha, his wife of the last three months. But right now, he didn’t appear to be thinking about the satisfying breakfast he had consumed less than an hour ago. It was obvious that Rio was eager to get at it.
“It” being the latest case.
Ever since his marriage, Skylar’s partner had been almost myopically focused on working his way up the ladder. He was attempting to do something noteworthy to catch the Chief of Detectives’ eye.
“No time for that, Sky,” Rio told her, shifting from foot to foot. “Morrow called in that they found a floater just outside the city limits.”
By “Morrow,” Skylar knew he was probably referring to Sergeant Jeff Morrow. Part of the Homicide Division for more years than anyone could actually remember, the sergeant was like the proverbial bloodhound when it came to finding bodies.
“A floater,” she repeated after taking one last sip of her coffee and setting the mug aside. “Homicide or accidental?” she asked as she opened the first drawer on the left and took out her handgun. Very carefully, Skylar tucked the weapon into her shoulder holster.
“I actually asked him that,” Rio answered, pleased with himself for anticipating his partner’s question. “Morrow said it was too soon to tell. There didn’t seem to be any telltale signs of a homicide or any outward signs of a struggle having taken place,” he said, echoing the sergeant’s words. “Could just be a simple suicide.”
Skylar looked at him, thinking of the last parent she had had to break the news to about the woman’s son’s overdose. It had taken her more than a couple of hours to calm the woman down. Sitting there and holding Helen Jason’s hand had been a truly heartbreaking experience as far as she was concerned.
Skylar’s expression and tone hardened ever so slightly. “There is no such thing as a ‘simple’ suicide, Rio. Every suicide has serious repercussions for someone other than the person who died.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to minimize the end effect,” her partner apologized. The way he survived personally, she knew, was to divorce himself from the act.
“I know you didn’t,” Skylar admitted. She shouldn’t have raised her voice like that. “I’m being too touchy,” she acknowledged. Taking a breath, Skylar said, “If it does turn out to be suicide, I’m anticipating having to break the awful news to some heartbroken family member.”
“That’s part of the job,” Rio returned matter-of-factly.
“It is,” Skylar agreed, “but it still rips my heart out.”
“I know, I know.” Rio’s voice softened. “You do realize that you’re way too sensitive for this kind of job, right?” he asked as they went to the elevator.
She looked at him, aware of the fact that a lot of the people who worked within the Homicide Division had self-made walls built up around them. It was a matter of survival. But those were the people who came across as too cold.
“Someone has to be,” she told her partner. “Otherwise, we just become robots, working one case after another and going through the motions of being human.”
Rio nodded. “I guess that’s what makes us such a good team. Between the two of us, we wind up covering both ends of the spectrum.”
Skylar absently shrugged her shoulders, wondering if maybe it was time for her to think about switching divisions. But if she did that, who would be left to feel empathy for the victim as well as for the victim’s family?
Detective Beaumont Rio was a good guy, but she knew he just wasn’t capable of that.
“You want to drive, or should I?” Skylar asked as they got off the elevator.
“Well, since you put it that way—me,” he informed her with a big smile. “I’d like to drive.”
Since she was still waiting for the coffee to kick in, Skylar decided it wasn’t such a bad idea to let Rio get them to the lake. She had a tendency to drive too fast when she was agitated, and she knew it.
So did Rio.
“Be my guest,” Skylar told him, waving a hand toward his aged beige vehicle. While it was reliable, it looked utterly uninspiring. The car was parked in its customary spot and she wondered how long that would remain to be the case.
Since his marriage, a lot of things had changed in Rio’s world. To be honest, she was surprised he was still driving the same lackluster car. She had seen him wistfully eyeing brand-new, far more colorful vehicles, and couldn’t help musing that that was going to be the next thing to change in her partner’s life.
Keep your mind on your work, Sky, she told herself.
At bottom, that was all that really mattered. The work, not Rio’s quest for a flashy vehicle.
Getting in on the passenger side, Skylar strapped in.
“Did the sergeant give you any details about the floater?” she asked, since Rio was the one who’d caught the case. “Age, time of death, things like that?”
The vehicle came to life. Pulling out, Rio shook his head. “Other than the fact that a fisherman reeled her in and was totally freaked out by the event, no. I took the liberty of calling in the medical examiner and the crime scene investigation unit,” he added, glancing at Skylar a bit nervously.
She saw no reason for the display of nerves on Rio’s part. Something was up. “Are you waiting for me to bite your head off?” she asked.
“Well, I thought you might feel I was going over your head and usurping your position,” he told her.
That had never come up before. For the first time, she found herself wondering if all was going well in Rio’s marriage. At times, he had seemed rather preoccupied.
“Look, I know I’m related to more of the police personnel than you are...” she began, only to have him laugh.
“More?” he echoed incredulously. “I’m not related to any of them. You, on the other hand—”
She didn’t let him finish, especially since she knew what was coming. There were a great many Cavanaughs in different positions on the police force and, for some, she knew that could be a very intimidating fact. However, she had never thought Rio had fallen into that category. At least, he hadn’t before he’d married.
“But what matters here,” Skylar continued forcefully, “is that we’re both homicide detectives with decent track records and good instincts. There’s no reason for you to feel insecure.”
“I’m not feeling insecure,” Rio answered defensively.
“Good.” Skylar nodded. “I’m glad to hear that, even though it was starting to sound that way. You shouldn’t feel vulnerable,” she reiterated, emphasizing, “especially since you did everything right.” She was referring to his calling the CSI unit as well as the medical examiner to come on the scene.
“Sorry, Sky.” Rio flushed. He was obviously uncomfortable with what he was about to confess. “Marsha and I had an argument this morning.”
She knew what that meant. That was Rio’s way of saying that his new wife was berating him. That sort of thing had started about a month ago. Skylar felt that Rio worked hard and he deserved a little peace and quiet, not a belittling or condescending attitude sent his way. That just wasn’t right.
“If you need to talk,” she told Rio, trying not to sound as if she was attempting to pry, “you know where to find me.”
