Cavanaugh's Surrender

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by Marie Ferrarella




  “The killer is still out there.”

  Crime scene investigator Destiny Richardson receives the shock of her life when she finds her sister dead in a bathtub. Detective Logan Cavanaugh thinks it’s an open-and-shut suicide case. But Destiny’s convinced her sister was murdered. And she’s not about to have some arrogant cop tell her otherwise—even if he is the sexiest man she’s ever met.

  Logan knows it’s pointless trying to convince Destiny that it’s against the rules to work on a relative’s case. The crime scene investigator is as stubborn as she is gorgeous. Besides, Logan wouldn’t mind getting to know her better. When it becomes apparent that there’s a serial killer on the loose, Logan is bent on protecting the woman he’s falling in love with.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Destiny could see that Logan was waiting for her to convince him. “I don’t have any other choice. Paula’s killer is out there somewhere and I intend to catch him. I can’t do that if I fall apart.”

  “No, you can’t,” he agreed. “But if you need someone to talk to—or not talk to,” he added with a smile that was beginning to weave its way under her skin even though she was doing her best to ignore it, “I’m available.”

  “You’re a good guy, Logan Cavanaugh,” she told him quietly just before she impulsively brushed her lips against his cheek.

  Logan felt something within his gut tighten so quickly and so hard, for a second it was difficult for him to draw in a breathe.

  Every fiber of his being wanted to pull her into his arms and to kiss her back. The right way. And he had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t get any resistance from her.

  But that would be taking unfair advantage of her vulnerable state. Their time would come—he was fairly certain of that. But not tonight.

  Dear Reader,

  You are holding in your hands the latest book in the Cavanaugh Justice series. Logan Cavanaugh is another one of Sean Cavanaugh’s (a.k.a Cavelli) sons. A free spirit who takes just about everything in stride, Logan finds his laid-back attitude challenged when he is temporarily paired with Destiny Richardson, his father’s chief assistant in the crime lab. She also just happens to be the sister of what appears to be a serial killer’s latest victim.

  The latter designation has yet to come to light since the murders are all staged to appear like suicides—except that Destiny is positive that her younger sister would have never committed suicide, and she is prepared to go to hell and back to prove it. Logan, the primary investigative detective on what started out as an open-and-shut case, has no choice but to follow Destiny in order to keep her safe. But who is going to keep each of them safe from one another?

  I hope you enjoy this latest installment. As ever, I thank you for reading and from the bottom of my heart I wish you someone to love who loves you back.

  Marie Ferrarella

  Marie

  Ferrarella

  Cavanaugh’s Surrender

  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

  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 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

  Silhouette Special Edition

  ***Diamond in the Rough #1910

  ***The Bride with No Name #1917

  ***Mistletoe and Miracles #1941

  †Plain Jane and the Playboy #1946

  ***Travis’s Appeal #1958

  Loving the Right Brother #1977

  The 39-Year-Old Virgin #1983

  ***A 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

  Harlequin American Romance

  Pocketful of Rainbows #145

  ‡‡The Sheriff’s Christmas Surprise #1329

  ‡‡Ramona and the Renegade #1338

  ‡‡The Doctor’s Forever Family #1346

  Montana Sheriff #1369

  Holiday in a Stetson #1378

  “The Sheriff Who Found Christmas”

  ‡‡Lassoing the Deputy #1402

  ‡‡A Baby on the Ranch #1410

  *Cavanaugh Justice

  **The Doctors Pulaski

  ***Kate’s Boys

  †The Fortunes of Texas: Return to Red Rock

  ††The Baby Chase

  †††Matchmaking Mamas

  ‡The Fortunes of Texas: Lost…and Found

  ‡‡Forever, Texas

  †Montana Mavericks: The Texans Are Coming!

  ‡The Fortunes of Texas: Whirlwind Romance

  ‡‡‡Montana Mavericks: Back in the Saddle

  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 Books, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.

  To

  Sumay Li,

  who is a joy

  to know

  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

  Prologue

  “Paula, I’m letting myself in with the key you gave me,” Destiny Richardson called loudly as she stepped over the threshold into her younger sister’s apartment. “It’s Destiny, the sister you’ve been ignoring lately.”

  Again, she added silently.

  She and Paula, her junior by a little more than three years, had finally gotten to a point in their relationship where they were getting along again. Where everything out of her mouth didn’t get Paula’s back up and mark the beginning of yet another prolonged argument that ended up with Paula not speaking to her for weeks at a time. That, mercifully, was now all behind them.

  And then, for the past six weeks, it was as if Paula had stepped into a parallel universe. She was available only for a glimmer of time and then she’d disappear again. In between she’d return phone calls late and break lunch dates at the last minute.

  Destin
y had ridden it out for a couple of weeks, then finally asked her sister if this change in behavior was because of a man. Reluctantly—although she was glowing at the time—Paula had admitted that there was a new man in her life. But she wouldn’t say any more, not even what his name was.

  “Not yet, Des,” she’d confided. “I don’t want to jinx anything.” Her eyes had all but danced as she’d added with a big grin, “He’s just too good to be true.”

  Paula believed in the old adage that if something was too good to be true, it usually was too good to be true. But she’d bitten her tongue and said nothing, not wanting to jeopardize this new, improved relationship between her sister and her. It felt good to have Paula as a friend again, so she’d done her best to tread lightly and make no demands even though her gut had warned her that there was a problem.

  She hated it when she was right in cases like this.

  This morning, she’d gotten a text from Paula. It said simply: He left me. Thinking a few choice names directed at the man she’d never met, she’d called her sister almost immediately—and got no answer.

  During the course of the day, she’d tried over and over again to reach Paula, using every single phone number associated with her sister. Home, work, cell, all with the same results. Paula wasn’t picking up.

  So, right after work, convinced that Paula was taking this breakup incredibly hard, she’d come to her sister’s apartment and used the key Paula had given her for the very first time. She just wanted to make sure that her sister was all right.

  She looked around now. Every single light in the upscale, two-bedroom apartment was on.

  “You better be home, kid,” she called out, still addressing her words to the air. “Otherwise you’re making the electric company very rich for no reason.”

  This was typical Paula, though. Her sister had a habit of turning on all the lights whenever she was depressed. She claimed it helped chase away the hopelessness she felt.

  “Paula, where are you?” Destiny called, growing just a bit worried. Her mysterious “perfect” lover must have done a real number on her if Paula was too depressed even to answer her. “He’s not worth it, you know,” she said, making her way through the apartment. “Not worth being this upset over.” She walked into Paula’s bedroom. “If he could leave you just like that, you’re better off without him. He doesn’t sound very stable to me. He—”

  For just half a second, Destiny froze in the doorway between the master bedroom and the lavishly remodeled bathroom.

  Her heart stopped.

  She’d found Paula.

  “Oh, my God, Paula! Paula, what have you done?” she cried, racing into the bathroom.

  The water in the bathtub had overflowed and spread out onto the tiled floor. The red tinge discolored everything. Her sister was immersed in the tub, and the water was red with her blood.

  Paula’s wrists were slashed.

  Destiny Richardson had spent the past six years diligently working in the crime lab, at first part-time while she went to college and earned her degree in criminology, then, after graduation, full-time. From the very beginning, she had constantly gone the extra mile, putting in longer hours whenever she had a case.

  In short order, she impressed Sean Cavanaugh, the man in charge of the crime lab’s day shift. He promoted her to his chief assistant.

  The first cardinal rule for a crime scene investigator was not to move or touch anything. But she wasn’t a crime scene investigator tonight. She was Paula’s sister, and she desperately wanted to save her.

  But even as she grabbed her sister, ready to pull Paula out of the discolored water and perform CPR to try to save her, she knew it was too late. Paula’s skin was abnormally cold and clammy.

  And there was no heartbeat. Not even a faint flutter.

  Paula was dead and had been for a number of hours.

  “Oh, Paula, Paula, what did you do?” Destiny grieved, sinking down to the floor beside the bathtub. Water soaked into her clothing. She didn’t care.

  Because there was no one there and she had never felt so very alone in her life, Destiny allowed herself to break down for a moment.

  Just for a moment.

  She buried her face against the knees she’d brought up to her chest and sobbed as if her heart was breaking. Because it was.

  Chapter 1

  If police work wasn’t for all intents and purposes the family business—doubly so now that he, along with the rest of his siblings and his father, had irrefutable proof that they comprised what amounted to the long-lost branch of the Cavanaugh family—Detective Logan Cavanaugh, known until recently as Logan Cavelli, would have been sorely tempted to give serious thought to another career choice.

  Granted, Logan would have been the first to admit that he loved being a cop. Loved the idea that in some small way, he was fighting the good fight, righting wrongs and, along with his brothers and sisters, giving Aurora’s everyday citizens that thin blue line that they knew was out there to protect them.

  But there were times when the hours that went along with being a detective just about killed him. In the absolute sense, they were the same kind of hours that a doctor was expected to keep.

  Doctors and police detectives were always expected to be on call—except that a doctor made a hell of a lot more money than he made, Logan thought darkly as he now drove—alone—to the address his lieutenant had handed to him when the man had torpedoed the very eventful evening he had planned for himself and his utterly luscious date.

  One minute.

  One lousy little minute. Sixty seconds and counting down, that’s all he’d had left to his shift and then this evening with all its sensual promise would have become a reality.

  He had already powered down his computer because Stacy, displaying a rare flair for punctuality, had just waltzed through the squad room door and had instantly made him the envy of every other breathing male in the vicinity.

  Stacy, with the hips from heaven and the sinful mouth, who simply by walking across the floor could cause a eunuch to have lustful thoughts, was his date tonight. He was taking her out for dinner, dancing and a hot night of even hotter sex. The blond would-be model was his kind of woman. Gorgeous, passionate and totally uninterested in a permanent relationship.

  Tonight had all the makings of an absolutely perfect evening.

  But then his lieutenant had summoned him away from the doorway just as he was a hair’s breadth away from being free and clear and making it into the hall.

  No, that wasn’t actually true, he thought in resignation, his hands tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles were all but straining against his skin. Even if he had been in the middle of that passionate evening, enjoying all of Stacy’s fabulously assembled attributes, his cell would have rung, calling him away from the ecstasy that shimmered before him, beckoning him onward because duty called.

  When you’re the next one up, you’re the next one up. It was a simple, albeit hard, fact of life that went along with carrying a shield and a weapon.

  So, instead of hot filet mignon, his dinner tonight would probably be the last couple of slices of the cold, leftover pizza in his refrigerator. And instead of a hot woman in his bed, he’d be sleeping alone tonight.

  That was, if he got any sleep at all. A homicide detective with four years of experience under his belt, he’d learned that some cases unfurled slowly, inch by painful inch, while others ran you right into the ground from the moment you stepped into the crime scene arena and silently pledged to solve whatever needed solving.

  Daylight had receded and the evening was making itself comfortable. He drove, looking for the right building, still wishing that he’d been engaged in a job that defined specific hours where the end of the day was the end of the day.

  Wishing wouldn’t make it so. Besides, Stacy, pouting prettily, had perked up at the promise of a rain check.

  He laughed softly to himself, wondering if the woman thought that rain was actually involved in a
rain check. He wouldn’t put it past her. Luckily, it wasn’t her brain that attracted him. After having to be on his toes all the time, it was nice to kick back sometimes and just let his brain rest.

  Pulling up before the right apartment building, Logan saw that there were absolutely no empty spaces available along the long block. He debated driving to the parking structure on the next block, but he decided instead to double-park his vehicle in the fervent hope that his part in this wouldn’t take all that long.

  From the sketchy details he’d been given, it sounded pretty much like a cut-and-dried suicide—end of story. Once he verified that it was, maybe he could still even get hold of Stacy and at least get to enjoy the second half of the evening—that was, after all, the only thing that either one of them actually wanted from the other. Hot sex, enjoyable and a few minutes respite from the world they dealt with on a regular basis.

  The thought made him smile as he got out of the car and locked it behind him.

  The apartment in question was on the third floor. Once he got off the elevator, Logan found he didn’t need to acquaint himself with the floor’s layout or the way the apartment numbers were arranged to locate the one where his services were needed. The yellow tape and the stoic police officer standing guard did that for him.

  Vaguely recognizing the weary-looking older officer, he nodded at the man. Their paths had probably crossed at one point or another, Logan thought.

  “My dad here yet?”

  It was actually meant as a rhetorical question. This was the tail end of the day shift, but his father, the head of the CSI day lab, was dedicated beyond belief. He was the one who had instilled his work ethic in him and his siblings long before they had discovered that they were related to the Cavanaughs.

  Besides, there was all this yellow tape across the front of the entrance, a sure sign that his father and some of the team who worked for him were in there, carefully documenting and preserving everything with such precision it would have absolutely stunned the average mind.

  The officer, Dale Hanlon, shook his head. “No, not yet.”

  Logan stopped, surprised as he turned to regard the officer. Unless there were multiple crime scenes happening at once—something that had yet to occur in Aurora—in the past year—his father had taken to being present with his team at each crime scene that they processed.

 

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