“What do you mean, sir?” Valri asked.
Brian noticed that the young officer was no longer clutching the armrests, nor was she perched on the edge of her seat, ready to take off. Her whole body appeared to be focused on what he was telling her.
“Rogers was shot from behind and whoever did it also smashed his laptop.”
Now her interest was really aroused. Uncooperative computers had a way of igniting tempers like nothing else could. She’d known people who’d lost their tempers with computers to such an extent that they’d punched the keyboard or thrown their laptop on the floor, but this sounded as if there had been more involved than a flash of temper.
“Smashed, sir?” she asked, hoping he would dole out a few more details describing what had been involved in this murder/machine-icide he was informing her about.
Brian sat back in his chair, telling the young woman he’d summoned the details he’d been given so far.
“The detective on the scene said it looked as if a sledgehammer had been taken to it. Someone apparently wanted to get rid of whatever was on that computer. The quickest way would have probably been to take the laptop with them and then wipe out the hard drive, but I’m guessing whoever did it didn’t want to take a chance on being caught with Rogers’s computer.” Brian watched her expression as he gave Valri his theory. “And I’d assume that taking a sledgehammer to a laptop pretty much renders it a total loss.”
“Not every time,” she told the chief, choosing her words carefully. It wasn’t something she was accustomed to doing. For the most part, she talked to coworkers and friends, not superiors, and while she didn’t babble, there was always an unbridled enthusiasm to her tone. One that she was consciously restraining.
Brian looked at her with interest. “Oh? So the information on the hard drive wasn’t completely destroyed?”
“There might still be data that can be lifted,” she told him. She didn’t want to raise the chief’s hopes too high, but at the same time, there was a very small chance that all was not lost. “It depends on how hard the hammer came down on the laptop, the angle it hit, things like that.”
It was a whole new world out there than when he had been this officer’s age, Brian thought, silently marveling at what he was hearing. “You mean that the data might be retrievable?”
“Not all of it,” she was quick to qualify, again not to raise his hopes too high. “But it’s conceivable that a little here and there might have been spared and could still be gathered—but it won’t be easy,” she warned.
“Nothing worthwhile ever is,” Brian said, more of an aside than as a direct comment. “If I gave you the laptop to look over, do you think that you might be able to extract the data—provided that it can be extracted?” he added.
Brian wanted the young officer to know that there was no pressure attached to the directive. He didn’t expect miracles. But if there was one to be had, from what he had been told, he felt that she was the one to pull it off.
Valri took in a deep breath before answering. “I’d do my best, sir,” she told him.
“Can’t ask for anything more than that,” he told her. “Officer Cavanaugh, I’m going to pull you off your present assignment and set you up with a desk and a computer in Homicide.”
“Homicide?” she repeated, surprised. She had just assumed that if the chief wanted her to do tech work, that her desk would be down in the computer lab, where the rest of the CSI unit was located along with all of its specialized equipment.
“That’s where the case initially landed. The man is dead,” Brian reminded her.
“Right.” For a second, focusing on what the chief was saying about the laptop, the homicide had slipped her mind. Valri cleared her throat, which drew the chief’s attention to her. “If you don’t mind my asking, sir,” she interjected.
“Ask any question you want, Officer Cavanaugh,” he told her. “This is the time to clear things up.”
She knew that he really didn’t have to answer this. Law enforcement agents had the luxury of deflecting questions by saying that the answer would compromise an ongoing investigation. It was an all-purpose excuse that cast shadows on any beams of light that might be attempting to squeeze their way out.
But she knew she at least had to make the attempt to find out the basics here.
“What is it about this gamer, about Hunter Rogers, that makes his laptop important enough for you to try to get it resurrected?” It had to involve something other than his gaming strategies, but what?
“Turns out that Rogers wasn’t just a gamer, he was a hacker,” Brian told her. “And as for his laptop, we’re trying to find out if something on there got him killed—or possibly, might get someone else killed.” At present, he had no idea what they were up against, and it frustrated him no end. He didn’t like operating blindly.
Valri watched the chief. “You’re thinking that whoever killed Hunter knew what was on his laptop and what? Decided to save the world from it?”
“Not exactly,” he corrected her misconception. “We’re thinking that whoever killed Rogers wants to use whatever is on the computer and doesn’t want to share that information with the rest of the class.” He spread his wide palms on top of his desk blotter and leaned slightly forward for a better look into her eyes. He found a good many of his answers there when he spoke to people. “So, Officer Cavanaugh, are you up for this?”
Valri could barely sit still and contain the energy that she felt surging through her. “I love a challenge, sir.”
Brian smiled, nodding his head. He’d made the right call. “So I’ve heard.”
“Where is the laptop now, sir?” Valri wanted to know.
“Temporarily, it’s still locked up down in Homicide,” Brian told her. “Detective Brody has custody of it at the moment. Are you acquainted with Detective Alex Brody?” he asked.
The name was vaguely familiar, but she had no idea why. Most likely she’d overheard it being mentioned by one of the other uniforms. In any case, she had no personal recollection of the man.
Valri shook her head. “No, sir.”
“Well, you will be. I’m having the two of you partner up for this case. Temporarily,” he added on.
“He’s good with computers, too?” she asked, assuming that was why the chief was putting the two of them together.
Brian laughed rather heartily in response to her question. Valri had her answer before the chief opened his mouth and said a word.
“Not to hear him tell it. But Detective Brody is good with people and he’s a damn fine detective to boot.” He could see by the look on his younger cousin’s face that she was trying to follow his reasoning and she wasn’t succeeding. “I’m putting the two of you out in the field together,” he explained. “You’ll each supply strengths that the other is lacking.”
“Won’t Detective Brody feel resentful, being paired up with a beat cop?” she asked. She wasn’t a rookie, but she had a feeling that Brody would think of her in that light.
“Possibly,” Brian acknowledged. “Which is why I’m issuing you a temporary promotion to detective for the duration of this investigation.”
“Promotion? To detective?” she repeated in an awed whisper, never taking her eyes off the chief. “Seriously, sir?”
Valri was certain that at any second now, he’d come back to his senses, say he’d made a mistake and apologize just before he told her that she was going to remain a patrol officer.
“You have a problem with that, Officer Cavanaugh?” he asked her in all seriousness.
“What? Oh no, sir. No, I don’t. It’s just that—” Her words all but evaporated as her voice trailed off into something that sounded like a squeak.
“It’s just that...?” he repeated, waiting for her to finish her sentence.
She had to be honest with him.
Yes, she had joined the police force with dreams of eventually making detective. But even in her wildest dreams, it took some time to get there. She’d been on the force only a little over two years.
“I didn’t expect to have it happen so fast,” she finally said.
A comfortable as well as comforting smile slipped over his lips. “Life happens fast, Officer Cavanaugh. We have to try to keep up. And besides, the promotion is temporary, not permanent,” he reminded her. “At least, not yet,” he added with an encouraging note in his voice. “But it’s been my experience that as a whole, Cavanaughs are a very tough bunch to keep down.” His eyes held hers. “I’d like to believe that the same can be said for you.”
“Yes, sir,” Valri replied with conviction, beaming. The next second, she realized that it probably sounded to the chief as if she was bragging so she made an attempt to backtrack and say something a bit more humble. “I mean, I’m not trying to get you to think that I—”
“One thing you will learn, Officer,” Brian said, raising his voice and cutting through her statement, “is that no one ‘gets’ me to think anything.”
“No, sir,” she responded quickly, then realized that she was interrupting him while he was talking. “I mean—sorry, sir.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Officer. And I’m proud to say that I’ve never been known to bite a single officer, so relax, Officer Cavanaugh.”
“Easier said than done, sir.”
He laughed then at the simple truth she had uttered in desperation.
“Yes, I imagine that it is,” he agreed with a soft chuckle. “So, tell me—and think carefully—are you up for this?” he asked her again.
There was no hesitation in Valri’s voice this time as she gave him her answer. “Yes, sir.”
He nodded, pleased.
“Good.” And then he hit the button on his intercom, connecting him to his administrative assistant out front. “You can send him in now, Raleigh,” he told the woman who had once patrolled the streets of Aurora, along with Lila, his wife.
“Right away, sir,” the feminine voice on the intercom promised.
The next moment, the door to Brian’s inner office was being opened and a tall, broad-shouldered detective with dirty-blond hair that was slightly longer than regulation dictated came walking in as if he owned every square inch of space he passed.
Sparing an appreciative glance at the officer sitting in front of the chief of Ds—Brody was not one who didn’t take note of beauty wherever he came in contact with it—the detective then focused his attention entirely on the man who he’d been told had requested his presence in his office.
Alex had spent his morning with a dead man in a dingy apartment that desperately needed a thorough cleaning and a massive dose of fresh air. The chief’s immaculate, spacious office was a very welcome contrast.
Alex stood behind the only empty chair in the room, waiting to find out if this was going to be something he needed to sit down for, or if this was just a quick, “touch base” sort of a meeting.
“You sent for me, sir?” he asked the chief.
Brian smiled. Gesturing for the young detective to sit down, he said, “I did indeed, Detective Brody.”
Chapter 2
“Detective Brody, this is Officer Valri Cavanaugh,” Brian told the new arrival. “Officer Cavanaugh, this is Alexander Brody, the homicide detective who caught the case we were discussing.”
Alex nodded at the woman to his left. Surprised when she put out her hand to him, he shook it belatedly, then glanced back at the chief.
“One of yours, sir?”
He’d put it in the form of a question, but the query was obviously rhetorical in nature. It was a given that all the Cavanaughs were related to each other in one way or another. It was one of the first things he’d learned when he came out of the academy and joined the Aurora PD.
The second thing he’d learned was that having all these related people around him was not really such a bad thing. The ones he had encountered so far—especially the detectives he’d worked with—were all at the top of their game.
The chief gave him an indulgent smile. “You’re all ‘one of mine,’ Detective,” Brian informed him.
Coming from anyone else, the words might have sounded a bit patronizing, but because of everything he’d heard—and his own limited experience with the man—the chief of Ds actually meant that. Brian Cavanaugh had been around for quite a while and he regarded everyone on the force as part of his extended family.
And, like a family, members were to be kept safe whenever possible, and when it became necessary, they all pulled together to get the job done and protect their own. Anything short of that was deemed unacceptable.
The funny thing was, Alex knew for a fact that nearly everyone tried to live up to those standards to the very best of their ability.
“Sorry, sir,” Alex apologized to the chief. “I meant no disrespect.”
“None taken,” Brian replied. “Let’s get down to business,” he continued, drawing his chair in closer and leaning forward over his desk. “Lieutenant Latimore tells me that you caught the last case.”
“Are you referring to the gamer who was found dead this morning?” Alex asked, wanting to be completely certain that he and the chief were talking about the same murder. When the chief nodded, Alex confirmed what the man already knew. “Yes, sir, that’s mine.”
Brian had one last piece of information he wanted to verify before going ahead with his plan. “Lieutenant Latimore also told me that your partner’s currently laid up in the hospital.”
Alex nodded. The incident was only a week in the past. “Detective Montgomery had a slight difference of opinion with a suspect driving a Jeep Cherokee SUV. The suspect thought he’d win the argument by running my partner over.”
“As I recall, you shot him from quite a distance. Most people play it safe and go for a kill shot from that far away, but you didn’t,” Brian said.
“He can’t talk if he’s dead, sir,” Alex told him simply.
“Very true,” Brian agreed. His eyes never left the detective’s. “Detective, I’m going to be giving you a temporary partner for this assignment.”
“Yes, sir,” Alex replied stoically.
He was trying his best to have his mouth offer at least a half smile, but he wasn’t quite succeeding at the moment. He was having better luck at steeling himself for what he sensed was going to be a bomb landing squarely on him.
Brian laughed softly. “It’s a temporary partnership, Detective. Not a life sentence,” Brian told the detective. “Loosen up a little.”
“Of course, sir,” Alex answered, struggling to restrain his uptight feeling, or at the very least, to keep it from showing. But he had worked long and hard to get to this position within the police force. He hadn’t done it to be turned into what, in his book, amounted to a glorified babysitter.
He slanted another, longer look at the officer sitting in the other chair. Even though she was in uniform, wearing her dress blues, she still seemed more like a cheerleader playing dress-up for Halloween than an actual police officer.
Judging by her face alone, he wouldn’t have said that she was actually old enough to be wearing the uniform. But she had to be, right? He sincerely doubted that the chief would have bent the rules and gotten her into the academy if she were underage. That wasn’t the kind of thing that Brian Cavanaugh would do.
Besides, that sort of thing was out of the chief’s hands, as far as he knew.
Still, none of that changed the fact that he felt as if he were being asked to supervise a totally wet-behind-the-ears beat cop.
Alex had never been the kind of man who stewed about something in private until it all but exploded inside him. Though restraint was his first order of business, if there was something he could
n’t docilely accept, the thought of registering a complaint was not beyond him. He didn’t want to rock the boat—this was the first professional interaction he’d had with the chief—but he wasn’t about to meekly accept the situation without a few facts.
“Could I ask why, sir?”
“Why what?”
“Why me?” Alex asked bluntly, for once not relying exclusively on his ability to charm people. The chief, he well knew, was a man who appreciated directness.
Brian paused for a long moment, studying both his cousin and the young detective. “You mean why am I saddling you with someone who is completely green when it comes to being out in the field as a detective?” Brian asked.
“Not exactly in those words,” Alex replied a tad uneasily, aware that the officer was looking at him intently. “But, well, yes. I’m really not much good at teaching anyone anything.”
It wasn’t modesty that prompted the disclaimer but rather honesty. He knew his strengths, of which he felt he had many, and his weaknesses. Mentoring or, more bluntly, teaching was among the latter.
The chief’s mouth curved ever so minutely. “Actually, I thought that Detective Cavanaugh—” he glanced toward his niece and saw that she brightened at the sound of her new title “—might be able to teach you a few things.”
Alex blinked. Now he was really lost.
“Sir?” Alex asked, requesting an explanation for that last statement.
“You’re dealing with a dead gamer who, I’m told, was also rather a well-known and proficient hacker. Both professions, from all indications, do not promote lasting friendships. It’s more of a case of the exact opposite being true. A lot of people hated this man’s guts. His ego, his bravado, all that made Hunter Rogers a walking target.
“I want to find out who decided to indulge in target practice and why. I also want to find out if Rogers’s laptop can be salvaged.”
There, at least, he could offer the chief some definitive information—or so he believed. “Only if you’re interested in hanging on to a very unique doorstop,” Alex told him.
Cavanaugh Fortune Page 2
