Cavanaugh Stakeout

by Marie Ferrarella

  But Nik was rather skeptical as she walked with him toward the elevator.

  “This is Sunday night. He might want to go to one more club before the weekend’s over—the body count is clearly going up,” she pointed out. “And, if you notice, he has a pattern. He goes to a high-end, fancy restaurant if he has an ‘urge’ for female companionship Monday through Thursday, but Friday and Saturday, he switches to a nightclub.”

  Finn looked at her as they got on the elevator. “So what are you saying? You think that Sunday is his day of rest?”

  She wasn’t sure yet. “It might be.” The elevator came to a stop and they got off. “Let’s give that address Ramirez found a try.”

  * * *

  The address took them to the most expensive area in Aurora. Each of the homes had a uniqueness about them—no two structures were alike.

  Finn pulled up in front of a huge building that was definitely meant to impress the beholder.

  Nik hadn’t even known so-called houses like this existed. “This looks like a mini-mansion,” she commented, getting out of the car. “I guess being a good-looking surgeon seems to be paying off.”

  “Guess so,” Finn agreed with no emotion. He rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. He rang it again, and then knocked on the door on the outside chance that there was someone inside. Or, if there was someone inside being held against their will, hearing that there was someone at the door might give them the courage they needed to yell out for help.

  He listened, but there was no sound coming from inside the house, no indication that there was anyone on the premises at all.

  “Maybe he is out clubbing,” Finn said to Nik as they turned away from the front door.

  They noticed that there was an older man out walking his dog. The man saw them at the same time and eyed them with unabashed curiosity.

  “You two looking for that young doctor?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Finn responded. “Do you know where he is?” To encourage the man to give him an answer, Finn took out his ID and held it up. “I’m Detective Cavanaugh with the Aurora PD. Would you know where Dr. Garrett is tonight?”

  “Henry Anderson.” The little man introduced himself, shaking each of their hands. “Why, what did he do?” Henry asked, coming alive right before their eyes, curiosity all but radiating from his body.

  Finn held back the reason for their search. “We’re just looking to ask the doctor a few questions. He might have been a witness to a robbery,” Finn explained, saying the first thing that came to his mind.

  Anderson’s high forehead furrowed. “A robbery around here?” the man asked, looking around as if he expected to see the robber suddenly pop out from behind the bushes.

  Finn didn’t answer him. Instead, he asked, “Would you happen to know where I could find the doctor?”

  The dog walker shook his head. “Beats me. He might be at his new house,” he said out of the blue.

  “His new house?” Finn repeated, surprised. Then what Ramirez said was really true, he thought.

  “Yeah, I saw this big moving van pull up early this morning,” the man told them. “Five big, burly guys got out and moved all this stuff out of the house and into the truck in about three hours. Never saw such big men move so fast. They were going like a house afire.” The man laughed at his own choice of words. “Not the right things to say around here, I guess, seeing like it always seems to be fire season these days, but you get my drift.”

  “The doctor moved? Seriously? Today?” Finn persisted, trying to get the man back on point and go on with his story.

  “That’s what I just said,” Anderson told them. “It was kind of funny, if you ask me, seeing as how he was only here for about three months.” The dog walker shrugged. “I guess the house just didn’t suit him,” the man said as if he was making some sort of a revelation. “He said he was looking for something bigger when I asked him.” The little man shook his head. “He seemed kind of annoyed that I was questioning him. Oh, the doctor did smile a lot, but he wasn’t all that friendly if you ask me.”

  “Did he happen to mention where he was moving to?” Nik asked the gossipy man.

  But the dog walker shook his head. “Like I said, I asked, but he didn’t tell me. Like it was some kind of a secret. All he did say was that the new house cost more, but the view was better.”

  The man pursed his lips, as if the answer didn’t sit well with him.

  He gestured around the area. “If you ask me, this view is really magnificent. But I guess there’s just no pleasing some people,” he sniffed. “The doctor struck me as that kind of a guy, never really satisfied.” His dog, a rather heavyset Pomeranian, was tugging harder on its leash, trying to get his owner to go. “All right, all right, Delilah,” he said with a laugh. “My dog doesn’t like me socializing. She seems to feel it takes attention away from her. Or at least that’s what her therapist says.”

  Not that much surprised Nik these days, but she had to admit that certainly did. “Your dog has a therapist?” Nik asked, staring at the animal.

  “Yes.” The owner lowered his voice. “I know I’m indulging her but she seemed so unhappy. She’s more adjusted now that she’s been seeing Dr. Weston three times a week. Worth every penny, too,” he declared happily. “Hey, if you find Dr. Garrett, tell him Delilah says hi.” He smiled down at the dog. “She had an affinity for him. So did all those women he brought home. But if you ask me, the man had no sticking power. Never saw the same woman twice.”

  “You saw him bringing home women?” Finn asked.

  “Delilah requires a lot of walks,” Anderson said a little defensively.

  “Would you mind giving me your number?” Finn asked the man. “I might need to speak to you again.”

  The pleased look on Henry Anderson’s round face told them that he was only too willing to oblige.

  Chapter 23

  Finn waited in the squad room for some sort of notification that at least one of the doctor’s very expensive cars had been sighted. He waited until after 9:00 p.m., but the APBs that had been placed on both vehicles yielded no response. Frustrated, Finn decided to call it a night. He left the orders in place and told Nik he was taking her home.

  “Would you like to come in?” she asked him when he brought her to her door.

  Finn hesitated taking her up on the invitation. “I’m not exactly sure I’d be very good company tonight,” he told her.

  Nik unlocked her door. “Let me be the judge of that,” she responded. Leaving the door open wide, she walked inside and said, “I have wine, beer, coffee and a couple of diet sodas. Take your pick.”

  After a beat, he crossed the threshold and followed her in.

  “Diet sodas?” he repeated. Finn looked at her. She had to be one of the trimmest women he knew. “Why would you need diet sodas?”

  “I like the taste,” she answered.

  “Okay, that makes sense. I’ll have a beer,” he told her, closing the door behind himself.

  “One beer coming up,” Nik responded, going to her refrigerator. Fetching a bottle, she twisted off the cap and placed the open bottle next to a tall glass on the coffee table. “Glass or bottle, take your pick,” she said, gesturing toward the items.

  “I’ll rough it, no need to dirty a glass,” Finn said. He made himself comfortable on the sofa.

  “Very thoughtful of you,” Nik responded with a smile, sitting down next to him on the sofa. Leaning forward, she studied the expression on his face. He was still upset that Garrett hadn’t been located. “We have one of the best police forces in the country,” she reminded him. “Someone is bound to locate one of his vehicles and find him.”

  He agreed with part of her statement. “What I’m afraid of is that they’ll locate the car—or cars—in a landfill and that for whatever reason, Garrett’ll take his killing spree to another city or maybe even
another state.”

  She knew how destructive negative thoughts could be. She’d been there herself. “You have to think positively, Finn.”

  “Okay,” Finn agreed, tipping back the bottle for another long drag of the amber liquid, “I’m positive that Garrett’ll take his killing spree to another city or state.”

  She frowned, moving in closer to him so she could examine his expression. “Are you sure you’re a Cavanaugh? I hear they’re very optimistic by nature. You are not even being remotely that.”

  He shifted, about to get up. The almost-empty beer bottle was still in his hand. “Maybe I’d better leave. I’m bringing you down.”

  But Nik placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back into a seated position. “I’ve got a better idea. You stay and I’ll try to bring your spirits up.”

  The corners of his mouth only curved slightly. “Right now, Nik, I don’t really think that’s doable,” he warned her.

  Her eyes met his, a confident smile on her lips. “I told you I’m Polish, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah.” He laughed under his breath. “I got that from your last name.”

  Undaunted, she continued. “I also told you that Polish women are known for their stubbornness,” Nik reminded him.

  “Nik—” he began, trying to tell her that right now, she was just butting her head against a wall.

  Nik wouldn’t let him finish his thought. “Shh,” she said, placing her fingertip against his lips and prohibiting any more words from emerging. “You’re interrupting my concentration,” she whispered just before she brought her lips up to his.

  His mouth curved just before she kissed him. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re incorrigible?”

  “Oh, on the contrary, I’m very corrigible,” she whispered against his lips, her breath tantalizing Finn.

  He didn’t wait for her to kiss him. Instead, he pulled her onto his lap and did the honors himself.

  Within less than a minute, Finn was getting himself lost in the sweetness of her mouth, in the warmth that just being with her like this generated in his chest.

  For the remainder of the evening, neither one of them spared a single thought about the case, or about the cold-blooded killer who seemed to revel in killing innocent young women.

  They didn’t think at all, they merely appreciated just how heated their blood became as each sought sanctuary within the other’s arms.

  For the rest of the evening, nothing else existed for each of them except for the other.

  * * *

  When Finn woke up the next morning, he found that Nik was still in bed beside him. Despite everything currently going on and the body count that was piling up, he couldn’t help thinking that this was the way he wanted to wake up every morning: lying in bed beside a woman who had accidentally crossed his path, a woman who he found himself falling in love with.

  The realization took him by surprise, startling him. He let the thought settle in...and found himself smiling. It felt right.

  As Nik, still asleep, stirred against him, Finn felt almost a reluctance to get up. But he knew he had to. Not just get up, but go home as well, so he could get a change of clothes. He knew if he turned up in the same shirt and slacks he’d already worn two days in a row, it wouldn’t go unnoticed, even if no one said anything.

  As he began to slip out of bed, he saw Nik’s eyes open. She grabbed his arm, holding him in place.

  “Much as I’d like to lie here,” he told her, “it’s Monday and I’ve got to go home first to get a change of clothes before going in to the precinct. People are going to notice my turning up in the same outfit two days running.”

  She bolted upright, but instead of commenting on what he’d just said, Nik looked at him and cried, “The moving van.”

  He had no idea what she was talking about. “Come again?”

  “The moving van,” she repeated in a more urgent voice.

  It still wasn’t making any sense to him. “What about it?” he asked.

  “We’ve got to talk to that dog walker. Anderson,” she said, suddenly recalling his name. “Someone like him thrives on absorbing every detail.”

  Maybe he was still half-asleep, Finn thought. “And?” he asked.

  She’d woken up with this thought taking shape in her mind. Nik realized she was talking too fast and slowed down. “Anderson would have noticed the logo on the moving van. If we can track it down, they’d have the address where they took the doctor’s furniture,” she declared.

  Now he understood where this was going. “And we would find out where he moved to.”

  “Yes,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him. Just as quickly, Nik released him. “Get out of bed and make that call,” she said, kicking off the covers on her side of the bed.

  He reached for the cell phone he’d left on the nightstand. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got the makings of a general?” Finn asked with a laugh.

  Nik grinned. “I believe you just did.” She pointed to the phone he had in his hand. “Call. I’ll make us some breakfast to-go again.”

  Finn laughed as he shook his head. The woman really did enjoy giving orders, he thought affectionately. He called the number that Henry Anderson had given him.

  After four rings, Anderson’s phone went to voice mail. Given the hour—7:00 a.m.—Finn had to admit that he wasn’t all that surprised.

  * * *

  “He’s not answering,” he told Nik when he came out to the kitchen several minutes later. “Listen, I’m going to go home and get a change of clothes,” he said, repeating what he’d initially told her when she woke up. “I’ve had these on since Saturday and I’m going to start smelling gamy.”

  She pretended to sniff the air around him. “Not yet, but it wouldn’t hurt to change. I’ll come with you,” she told him. She poured coffee into the two thermal containers they’d used the day before. “We can go to the precinct from there. Maybe someone made some progress since we left.”

  He picked up one of the containers. “You really are optimistic, aren’t you?”

  She didn’t say anything, but her eyes seemed to smile at him as she handed Finn the breakfast she’d wrapped up and placed in a bag for him. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  After swinging by for what amounted to a five-minute stop at his place so he could change his clothes, Finn tried Anderson’s phone again. The result was the same. It went to voice mail.

  “Maybe the man’s a heavy sleeper,” Nik mused. “Being the neighborhood busybody must take its toll on him.”

  “How do you feel about going over to his house in person?” Finn asked. In addition to his phone number, Anderson had also told them where he lived. The older man had seemed eager to show the place off, but at the time they had begged off.

  “Sure, why not? It’ll give the older man something to talk about for the next month, not to mention telling people that the police department sought his help to apprehend a dangerous killer,” she said.

  Finn laughed. “You’re probably right.”

  She thought of the look on Anderson’s face. “I know I am.”

  * * *

  Henry Anderson did not look like a happy man when he responded to the knock on his door. They could hear him muttering as he approached, not to mention hearing his dog barking up a storm the moment they knocked.

  “I’m going to call the police!” Anderson threatened as they heard him flipping open not one but two locks on his door.

  Finn raised his voice. “I am the police,” he said authoritatively just as Anderson pulled open the front door.

  The annoyed look on the man’s florid face instantly vanished when he saw who was on the other side of his door.

  “Oh, Detective, I didn’t know it was you,” Anderson said solicitously. “Come in, come in,” the old man urged, swinging his door open all
the way and gesturing into his house.

  “No, that’s all right,” Finn told him. “This will just take a minute of your time.” He looked into Anderson’s eager face. “You said you saw movers loading up the doctor’s furniture.”

  The balding head bobbed up and down. “I did, and if you ask me, they wouldn’t be the people I’d use. I saw them drop a couple of pieces and that bed frame they carried out, granted it was really heavy, but they almost—”

  The man sounded as if he would go on forever. “Did you happen to see the logo on the truck?” Finn asked, interrupting Anderson’s narrative.

  His bushy eyebrows drew together, almost touching as he stopped to think. And then he smiled broadly as he remembered. “It was a lightning bolt!” he declared in triumph.

  “A lightning bolt,” Finn repeated, waiting for more.

  Anderson nodded. “Yes, on account of their name,” the man informed them proudly. He beamed, remembering the wording on the side of the van.

  “And what was that?” Nik asked, suppressing the urge to jump down the man’s throat and pull out the words.

  “Lightning Movers,” Anderson answered. “It was written in bright yellow letters directly under the lightning bolt. A little overkill if you ask me,” he told them disdainfully. “But then, I guess that—”

  “Thank you,” Finn told the old man, shaking his hand. “You’ve been a great help.”

  Anderson looked almost disappointed that his moment in the spotlight was over. “Are you sure you won’t come in?”

  “No, we really have to be going. Thanks to you,” Finn told him, backing away. Nik was already ahead of him. “We have a destination.”

  “Hey, anytime I can be of more service, just let me know,” Anderson called out to them.

  “We’ll do that,” Finn answered, feeling that it was only fair to let the man down gently.

  Finn and Nik hurried to put distance between themselves and the man standing and waving in his doorway. They quickly got into Finn’s car.