Cavanaugh’s Woman

by Marie Ferrarella

  “He’s had his morning coffee,” Moira told him. Her remark was met with more surprise. She held up two fingers. “Two cups.”

  Again, Reese’s brown eyes slid from the back of Shaw’s head to Moira’s face. “And you’d know this how?”

  “She made it,” Shaw tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the stairwell and the second-floor squad room where he clocked in every morning.

  This was almost too much to digest. “You made his coffee?” Reese’s voice was filled with wonder and a touch of envy. “Why?”

  She hurried up the metal stairs behind Shaw. “I wanted some, too.”

  Reese reached the landing with her. “Can we start at the beginning here?”

  As Shaw held open the door, she walked out onto the second floor and to what appeared to be an audience that had been milling around for a while now, waiting for her to make an appearance. Her eyes swept over the crowd and she smiled at every last one of them.

  “We’ve got all day,” she told Reese cheerfully.

  Shaw’s look only grew darker.

  The morning had been filled with details and phone calls he wouldn’t allow her to overhear. She’d spent it talking to some of the other detectives and waiting for some sign that Shaw and Reese were about to spring into action.

  When they started to walk out, she hurried to catch up. Reese looked happy about it. Shaw did not.

  They were on their way to check out a tip. Despite what his uncle had said, despite the agreement the city and Moira’s studio had reached, Shaw was against her tagging along. As far as he was concerned, having Moira there put all of their lives in danger. Especially hers.

  He gave her as few details as he could get away with. They were going to check out a pornography store downtown. Someone had tipped them off that there was a distant connection between the owner and the prostitution ring they were trying to bring down.

  When he pulled up to the curb, he grabbed Moira’s wrist as she started to unbuckle her seat belt. She raised her eyes to his face questioningly. “I want you to stay in the car.”

  She felt a flash of temper, but banked it down. “But how am I going to see you in action if I have to stay in the car?”

  He got out, slamming the door. The look he gave her pinned her to her seat. “Use your imagination.”

  Moira frowned. “I could have stayed in the hotel and done that.”

  “Now there’s an idea.”

  Moira turned her eyes toward her only ally. Reese was quick to pick up the banner. “She’s got a point, Shaw. Why don’t you let her come along?”

  This was nonnegotiable. “She’s a civilian and she could get hurt. She stays where she is.”

  Fun was fun, but this was getting in the way of her research. “But—”

  He decided to try to appeal to her common sense, even though he wasn’t sure if she had any. “Look, we’re entering a sleazy place that deals exclusively in explicit porno.” He didn’t add that there was a suspicion of child pornography being produced out of there, as well. He wasn’t trying to make her ill, just make her stay put. “Men go into places like that, not women. Having you with us’ll blow our cover.”

  Moira looked undaunted. “I could play the part of a wanna-be porn star.”

  The woman had an answer for everything. He lost his temper. Shaw leaned into the car. When he spoke, he enunciated every word. “Let’s get something clear. There are no ‘parts’ here. These are not TV actors we’re dealing with. They don’t retreat into their trailers when someone yells ‘Cut.’ These are vicious, nasty men who sell underage girls into virtual slavery. Now this is as close as you’re getting to the operation.” He slapped the side of the car. “Do I make myself clear?”

  There was no arguing with him. “Perfectly.”

  “Good.” Shaw straightened up. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  He looked at his partner. Reese had changed inside the precinct, donning worn jeans and a pullover shirt that had seen too many spin cycles in the washing machine. The object was to blend in, not stand out.

  Shaw felt behind him, assuring himself that his weapon was still tucked into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. The one he used for backup was securely strapped to his calf.

  Completely ignoring Moira, he nodded at Reese. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Frustrated, Moira remained in the car.

  She watched Shaw and Reese as they disappeared behind the black door of a small, narrow store whose display windows had been painted black. If what was going on inside was what Shaw claimed, black was an appropriate color for it, she thought.

  They were gone a while.

  The minutes dragged one another by in slow motion, making her edgy. The interior of the car began to get warmer despite the windows that were cracked open on either side. She stood it for as long as she could. Finally, feeling as if she were in a rotisserie, Moira slid into the driver’s seat and looked around for a way to open the windows all the way down.

  But Shaw had taken the keys with him and she needed the keys to operate the power windows.

  “Terrific,” she muttered. “He did this on purpose so that I’d call this off. Guess what, Shaw. I’m a lot tougher than you think.” She blew out a breath, watching the front of the porno store. “Also a lot hotter.”

  Moira gave it a few more minutes, growing warmer, antsier by the moment. But there was no sign of either Reese or Shaw. No movement whatsoever in the general area.

  The interior of the car grew hotter.

  She debated getting out of the vehicle, but she knew that wouldn’t sit well with Shaw. Besides, she thought, looking around at the tired buildings, the dirty streets, this wasn’t exactly an upscale neighborhood. She might be stubborn, but she wasn’t an idiot.

  Moira chewed on her lower lip, thinking. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead. There was only one thing left to do.

  She was going to have to hot-wire the car in order to get the windows down.

  Leaning over, she got busy beneath the dashboard. It had been a while since she’d done anything like this, but it was like riding a bicycle. After a few seconds of fumbling, it came back to her.

  Several short tries later, she had the engine purring like a kitten.

  Smiling, feeling triumphant, Moira straightened up. She spread her fingers out over the buttons on the driver’s armrest and pushed all the four that were clustered together. All four windows began to dip down in unison.

  It was then she saw the door to the porno shop open. Less than a half beat later, a man came flying out. He was running as if he had the demons from hell on his tail. She figured two police detectives were close enough, given his probable line of work.

  Later, looking back, she didn’t recall thinking, only reacting. Years of being her father’s daughter, ready for anything, had honed her reflexes to a razor-fine point.

  She threw the car into drive and aimed it directly for the man Shaw and Reese were pursuing.

  Running at top speed, Shaw’s eyes widened as he saw the car whizzing by him. The fact that it was his registered a moment later.

  Pumping hard behind him, Reese’s mouth dropped opened. “Hey, isn’t that—?”

  “Damn it. What the hell does she think she’s doing?” By the time the question was out, he had his answer.

  Driving over the curb, Moira had brought the cream-colored Crown Victoria up on the sidewalk. For a second, it looked as if she were going to run the man down, but she brought the vehicle to a halt, effectively pinning the terrified quarry up against the wall.

  “Hey, nicely done!” Reese called out to her as he and Shaw rushed to catch up.

  Shaw saw no reason to praise her. What she did was reckless and dangerous. If the shop owner had had a gun, she could have gotten herself killed.

  “What do you—? How did you—?” He couldn’t even frame a question. They went spilling into each other, shoved forward by indignation, surprise and anger.

  Exc
ited, Moira didn’t even hear Shaw at first. She leaped out of the car to take a closer look at the man she’d caught. Her heart was pounding. It had been a long time since she’d felt this alive. In a way, she supposed she missed the life she’d once led with her father and sister.

  “She’s crazy!” the store owner screamed. “Why don’t you arrest her?”

  “We’re too busy with you,” Reese told him, taking out his cuffs.

  His hand on her shoulder, Shaw spun Moira around to face him. The look on her face was sheer exhilaration and for a second, his indignation faded. But it was back the next moment.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  “Helping.”

  Shaw looked accusingly at Reese. The latter had turned the store owner toward the wall and was snapping the handcuffs shut. “Did you leave the keys in the car?”

  Reese shook his head. “Hey, man, you drove, remember?”

  Shaw felt his pocket. The keys were still there. Then how did she—?

  Moira read the question in his eyes. “I hot-wired it. It was hot,” she explained. “I didn’t know how long you’d be and I was trying to get the windows down before I wound up roasting to death.” She shrugged innocently. “I figured you wouldn’t want me getting out of the car.”

  It took a lot of willpower to keep his temper under control. “I didn’t want you racing the car, either.”

  Why was he so annoyed? She’d helped, not hindered. “I saw you running after someone. He was getting away.”

  “I would have caught him.”

  She smiled up at him, satisfied with herself. “My way was faster.”

  He was going to get rid of her if it was the last thing he did. “Your way was damn dangerous.”

  Handcuffed, the suspect was craning his neck as Reese tried to get him into the back seat. Outrage and fear had temporarily been replaced by curiosity. The man looked at Reese. “Hey, is that—?”

  “Moira McCormick,” Moira said. Despite the circumstances, she added, “Nice to meet you.”

  Shaw roughly took hold of her arm, escorting Moira back into the car. “You can sign autographs later,” he growled.

  “This isn’t going to work,” he said to her several minutes later. She was in the front seat with him. Reese was in the back with the suspect, who hadn’t stopped talking to her since he realized who she was.

  Moira turned back around and looked at Shaw. She’d obeyed him and remained in the car, and still managed to help out. What more did he want? “I thought it worked out just fine.”

  “You thought wrong. I told you to stay in the car.”

  “At no time did my body leave the car,” she protested. “Not until after you were on the scene.”

  He knew it was useless to argue with her. She’d just infuriate him. Shaw blew out a breath, trying to collect himself.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” Reese asked, admiration in his voice.

  She knew he was referring to hot-wiring. Her father had taught both her and her sister how. It was something he thought might be useful to them someday. He’d only stolen one car during his career. It had belonged to a man who’d gotten rich off the misfortune of others. Her father had called it “payback.” Eventually, the car had been donated to a charity.

  “Research,” she lied. Moira exchanged looks with Shaw. It became evident to him that although she’d told him about her father and the life they’d led in the shadow of the wrong side of the law, it seemed to be something that she didn’t want to become common knowledge.

  Or maybe she’d put him on this morning and what she’d just told Reese was the truth. Maybe she’d been so busy pretending that she no longer knew what was true and what wasn’t.

  None of which mattered to him.

  All that mattered was that he had to get this shapely, attractive monkey off his back and the sooner he did that, the better.

  “So, are you going to interrogate him?” she asked. When he made no answer, she tried again. “C’mon, Cavanaugh, I didn’t hurt the car.”

  “That’s not the point. You could have gotten hurt—”

  “Ah, you care.”

  He glared at her. “About the city getting sued because you want to play cops and robbers—yes, I care.”

  She seemed to accept his explanation. “Don’t worry. I already signed a disclaimer. I get hurt—nobody’s liable but me.”

  Somehow, that didn’t seem to comfort him the way he thought it should.

  Chapter Six

  “You probably won’t let me in there with you, will you?”

  Moira looked from Shaw to Reese, knowing it was a dead issue.

  Though he and Reese were partners, Shaw was definitely the leader here, and she knew he would never bend the rules to allow her inside the interrogation room while they questioned Ramsey Jenkins, the porno shop owner she’d helped capture.

  Shaw tossed his jacket over the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves. It was hot inside the precinct and it would get a lot hotter in the room where the suspect was being kept. “Give the lady a prize, Reese. She guessed the right answer.”

  Reese bit his lower lip as Moira looked at him again. “Cavanaugh…?”

  “No.” The answer was firm and nonnegotiable.

  “Don’t you have a little room behind the one you use for interrogations? You know, one of those places with a one-way mirror? So I can see but not be seen?” she tacked on hopefully. “I’m not some police groupie, Shaw. I need to study your technique.” She glanced toward Reese for backup. She wasn’t disappointed.

  “C’mon, Cavanaugh. What’s the harm in letting her watch?”

  Shaw gave him a dirty look. He didn’t like being observed, didn’t like anything about this overall assignment, but he knew he was on the losing side. She’d probably go to the chief, and that was the last thing he wanted.

  He looked down at her. “Okay, but no tapping on the window, no sudden movements, no indication that you’re there. Understand?”

  She held up her hand, as if she was taking an oath. “I won’t even breathe.”

  “That,” he muttered under his breath, “is too much to hope for.”

  “C’mon,” Reese urged, beckoning to her. “I’ll show you where to go.”

  The look on Shaw’s face, she noticed, indicated that he would have liked to tell her exactly where to go. She hurried after Reese.

  Moira stood, fascinated, as she watched Shaw patiently, quietly, firmly grill the porno shop owner. It wasn’t like in the movies. She wasn’t sure just what she’d expected. Maybe a game of good cop–bad cop, or maybe she’d thought that Shaw would flex his prowess over the man, threaten him with bodily harm then give him just enough of a taste of it to have him babbling out the information.

  But Shaw went about his grilling methodically. He was a man with a goal in mind and would not stop until that goal was reached. Reese was there solely for reinforcement. The longer the questioning continued, the more uneasy Jenkins became.

  In the end, faced with the threat of being sent to prison, Jenkins finally talked. If convicted, this would have marked his third offense, guaranteeing him a life behind bars. Begging them to say it hadn’t come from him, Jenkins gave them the name of his connection.

  They had another piece of the puzzle.

  Highly impressed, Moira came out of the adjoining room just as Shaw emerged. “That was fantastic.”

  He gestured to another detective to take the prisoner to a holding cell. It had gone well in there. Sometimes it didn’t. Still there was no reason to celebrate yet.

  Shaw merely shrugged, his attention for the most part focused on the information Jenkins had given them. But it was hard not to take note of the brilliant smile on Moira’s face. A smile that somehow found its way into his gut.

  He was tired and wired at the same time and in no condition to be around a sparkling Hollywood player. Almost in self-defense, he glanced at his watch. “It’s late. Isn’t it about time yo
u went back to your sound stage, or big party, or wherever it is that you go?”

  She was being dismissed, but took no offense since she was getting used to his abrupt behavior. “Actually, there is a party,” she told him. “A precast party. My producer is throwing it for the cast and crew.” She looked at him pointedly. “That includes the technical advisers.”

  So that was the title they’d slapped on him and Reese. He raised an eyebrow, amused despite himself. “You want my advice?”

  Moira had a strong hunch she knew what it would be. She grinned at him. “Not at this moment, no. But I’ll let you know when the time comes. Anyway, you and Reese are invited.” She nodded toward Reese. “So’s your chief, if he’d like to come.”

  Shaw didn’t know about his uncle, but he knew that he didn’t want to go. As he began to turn her down, Reese, apparently suddenly blessed with clairvoyance, grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

  “C’mon,” he entreated, lowering his voice to just below a stage whisper. “What harm would it do? Think of it as a few hours to unwind. We could all use that,” Reese urged, his eyes dancing hopefully back and forth across Shaw’s face. “How many chances do we have to go to a real Hollywood-type party?”

  “Nobody’s stopping you.” Shaw pulled his arm away. “What do you need me for?”

  “Backup,” Reese stressed. “Besides, it’s not me she’s looking at.”

  Yes, he was aware that there had been eye contact. Aware, too, that there might have been a few other things going on, all without any nurturing on his part. He supposed it could have been referred to by some as chemistry. The kind that blew up labs, not the kind that created useful, beneficial things for mankind. “She’s absorbing the part.”

  Reese laughed shortly. “She’s absorbing you,” he corrected, then temporarily lost his endless supply of patience. “What the hell’s the matter with you? If I had a chance to be with a beautiful woman like that—”

  “Yeah, we all know what you’d do.” The answer was all over Reese’s love-struck face.

  Shaw frowned, thinking. Maybe he was attaching too much importance to all of this. Yes, it was an inconvenience and a pain in the butt, but in a couple of weeks, it would all be forgotten. By then the crew would have packed up and gone back to Los Angeles and the confines of a welcoming studio, leaving behind only their money to remind anyone that they had passed through—and some celluloid once the movie was released.