Cavanaugh's Missing Person

by Marie Ferrarella

  “No, I don’t,” she retorted succinctly as she started to head in Finn’s direction.

  Before she took another step, Hunter caught her arm, stopping her. “Before you go and read them the riot act, why don’t I just take you home?”

  He was phrasing that ambiguously and she still hadn’t been completely won over. “Yours or mine?” she asked.

  “Yours,” he told her innocently. “Unless you’d rather that—”

  “No,” she said in no uncertain terms, maybe more firmly because there was a part of her that actually wanted to go home with him.

  And doing that would only be disastrous.

  “Then I’ll take you to your place,” Hunter told her simply. “I’ll need the address.”

  He probably already had it, she thought. “No problem. Just let me tell my brothers,” Kenzie said out loud. She watched his expression just in case this story about her brothers going to Malone’s was all a ruse he’d made up.

  “Sure. I can come with you—” She took a step toward him, as if to block his path. “Or not if you’d rather I just hang back.”

  He’d called her bluff, she thought. Even so, she still wanted to tell her brothers what she was doing.

  As she began to approach Murdoch, her brother spotted her and called out, “Kenz, a bunch of us are going to Malone’s. It’ll only be for a couple of rounds and then I promise we’ll take you home.”

  So Brannigan had been telling the truth, she thought. How about that. Maybe she needed to stop convicting him without the benefit of a trial.

  “That’s okay,” she told Murdoch. “I’ve made other arrangements. Have fun,” she said, changing direction and heading back.

  “You sure?” Finn questioned.

  Heaven help her, something felt as if it was suddenly falling into place inside her. For the life of her, Kenzie couldn’t explain why.

  She smiled broadly at her brother. “I’m sure,” she answered.

  She went looking for Andrew and his wife next. Locating them on the patio, she thanked them both for a wonderful time just before more of the family descended on the couple with the same intent.

  Kenzie began to ease herself away. Hunter was right behind her.

  “Kenzie, remember to go easy on yourself,” Andrew told her just as she was about to leave.

  The man still worried about each and every one of them despite having been out of law enforcement all these years. That felt comforting somehow.

  “I will,” she promised.

  “See that she keeps her word.” This time, Andrew was talking to the man behind her.

  “Yes, sir,” Hunter replied. “I’ll certainly do my best.”

  Kenzie looked at Brannigan as they went out the front door. “Did you just tell my uncle that you were going to be my keeper?” she asked him.

  “No,” he contradicted. “What I said was that I’d do my best to see that you keep your word. The rest, as always, is up to you,” he told her, then added, “But I certainly can’t force you to do it.”

  She rolled his words over in her head. “You’re pretty good at that,” she said.

  He wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “Pretty good at what?”

  “Manipulating words,” she told him.

  He didn’t see it that way, he thought. He viewed it in another light. “It’s called a survival instinct,” he told her. “I learned it early on.”

  “How early?” Kenzie asked. She knew his reputation. But when she came right down to it, she really didn’t know all that much about the actual man.

  A strange smile curved his mouth. The moonlight seemed to highlight it. “Early enough to raise my father.”

  He didn’t look it, but maybe he’d had too much to drink himself, Kenzie thought. His answer didn’t make any sense.

  “Come again?”

  Hunter debated saying “never mind,” to her. But, knowing her, she’d probably find out anyway so he decided to tell her. That way at least he’d know that she had the right story.

  “My dad split for a while. My mother, never all that stable, had a meltdown right after that. She made the decision to start over—unencumbered by kids. To make that happen, she left my younger brother and me with her mother and after Grandma couldn’t handle us, my dad turned up and came to the rescue, so to speak.” Hunter smiled fondly.

  “He was a great guy, but he had a bit of a romance going with Jim Beam. So growing up, I kind of had to raise myself and my brother—and my father along the way,” he added. “Does that answer your question?”

  They had reached his car as he talked and were now currently on the way to her apartment, which, it turned out, wasn’t that far away from the police station.

  “It’s a start,” she told him in reference to his question.

  He spared her a glance, slightly confused. “What do you mean, ‘it’s a start’?” Hunter asked.

  “I figure we’ll cover the rest of it—your background,” she explained, “—while we’re working together. That’s what cops do, right?” she asked. “They talk to stave off the boredom.”

  Was she talking about the present circumstances they were dealing with? “This isn’t a boring case,” he pointed out. And once it was over—if they managed to solve it—he’d be going back to his division. There wouldn’t be much occasion to talk then.

  “No, but finding evidence is rather a slow process.” This wasn’t coming out right, she thought. He had a way of flustering her. She tried again. “I’m just saying that if you ever want to talk, I’ll listen.”

  Hunter swallowed the wisecrack that rose to his lips. Whatever was happening here, he wasn’t going to spoil it by being his usual self. Right now, he really didn’t want to be his usual self if that persona was going to keep her at arm’s length.

  He liked talking to this new Kenzie 2.0 for however long she deigned to remain that way.

  Nodding, Hunter said, “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind,” he told her.

  Kenzie shifted in her seat. Since he had shared something personal with her, she felt almost obligated to do something in kind with him. It took her a few minutes to work up her nerve.

  Just as Hunter pulled his sports car into her garden apartment complex, she slanted a look at him and told him, “You know, you were right about what you said. Earlier,” she added when he made no response.

  “I’m right about a lot of things,” Hunter told her with a smile that for once couldn’t be labeled as cocky. “Refresh my memory. Which ‘right’ are you referring to, Kenzie?”

  She was about to say “never mind” but forced herself to stick it out. The man was a modern-day comic book hero without the cape. The least she could do was listen to him.

  “The one where you said Billy didn’t deserve me. Not to sound conceited, but he didn’t. Not because of anything I did,” she told him. “But because of what he did.” Kenzie paused. Maybe she’d already said too much. Because Brannigan had been so open with her, she’d wanted to reciprocate. But it wasn’t easy for her to open up this way.

  “I’m listening,” Hunter said gently when she didn’t continue.

  Well, she’d started this, she thought. She might as well complete it.

  Kenzie took a deep breath.

  “I never told any of my brothers this. I never told anyone this,” she emphasized, then stressed, “I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me.”

  Hunter nodded. “I can understand that.”

  Rather than look at him, she stared straight ahead at the visitor-parking sign.

  “Billy cheated on me.” Even now, the words tasted sour in her mouth. She’d actually loved Billy once, an eternity ago. “When I confronted him, he begged me to forgive him and swore he’d never do it again.”

  “But he did,” Hunter guessed.

  “But he did,” Kenzie ech
oed, still staring straight ahead. “He begged again, I forgave him again.” More the fool she, she added silently.

  “They say the third time’s the deal breaker,” Hunter said.

  This time she did look at him, alert. “Someone tell you this?” she asked, her guard up.

  “Your face just did,” he answered.

  He saw the alarm mingled with wariness wash over her features. He put his hand on her shoulder in a gesture meant only to comfort and nothing more.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything to Finn or Murdoch, or to any of the others. Because you and I both know that they would kill the SOB if they ever got their hands on him, and even though I figure the guy deserves it, they’re my friends and I don’t want to see them brought up on murder charges.

  “Besides,” he added, “I figure the guy’s suffering enough for his sins.”

  Her tone was still guarded. “How do you figure that?”

  “Well, his stupidity cost him you, didn’t it?” Hunter said.

  Kenzie looked at him. It felt as if time had suddenly stopped moving forward.

  She didn’t know just what came over her. Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe she was just tired from all the long hours she had been putting in, working the case.

  Or maybe because this was the first kindness in a while she’d heard directed toward her that wasn’t coming from someone in the family.

  Whatever the reason, she felt something, an electricity, shooting off sparks within her. And then, before she realized what she was doing, she did it. She leaned in toward Hunter and kissed him.

  It was hard to say who was more stunned by that, Kenzie or Hunter. Or who was more surprised when it happened again.

  She hadn’t recovered her breath yet, but there she was, sealing her lips to his a second time, as if to convince herself that the first time had actually happened and that the head-spinning euphoria hadn’t been something that she had imagined.

  It had to be real because there it was again, taking her on another erratic-pulse journey, dilating all her blood vessels and causing her heart to pound harder than it had that time she had competed in a marathon at the police academy.

  Just as she was about to draw back for a second time, she felt his hands on her face, framing it. Holding it in place as he deepened his kiss and left his mark indelibly on her.

  He kissed her as if she was special.

  He kissed her as if he wished she were his first.

  Chapter 19

  Hunter drew back.

  Part of him wondered if he had suddenly been catapulted into an alternate universe. Or maybe he was asleep somewhere and this was all just part of a dream. A very soul-arousing, vivid, wonderful dream.

  “Well, that was certainly a surprise,” he finally said.

  “For both of us,” Kenzie replied, her voice only a little louder than a whisper.

  She felt behind her for the door handle, as if wrapping her fingers around it gave her back an iota of control over herself and the situation.

  Her legs felt shaky under her as she got out.

  Get it together, Kenz, she silently ordered.

  Nodding at Hunter, she told him, “Thanks for the ride.”

  She’d opened a door to something and he wanted it to continue. But he knew that if he made a move toward her, he’d wind up spooking her—or worse. So he remained where he was, seated behind the steering wheel.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Kenzie turned away and began to walk toward her apartment. Three steps later, she turned around again and doubled back.

  “Would you like to come in?” she asked Hunter haltingly as she leaned in toward his open window. “For coffee,” she tagged on.

  Hunter studied her for a long moment, doing his best to read her expression before venturing an answer. Finally, he took a chance, going with his gut.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Then come on,” she coaxed.

  Hunter got out of his car and pressed the key fob in his hand. The resulting staccato sound told him his car was locked.

  Kenzie led the way to her apartment. She lived on the ground floor.

  “I know,” she said, answering the question she anticipated him asking. “The second floor would be safer. But I didn’t like the idea of lugging groceries up to the second floor.” She unlocked the door to 1H. “Besides, this was only supposed to be temporary.”

  Crossing the threshold, she waited for him to do the same, then locked the door behind him as she flipped on the light switch.

  “‘Temporary’ has now been a little more than three years now,” she told him.

  From what he could see, it looked like a nice, airy apartment. Why was it temporary? “Did you have another location in mind?” he asked her.

  “Yes. A house,” she answered in no uncertain terms. “When I look out my bedroom window, I like the idea of looking at a backyard, not a parking lot,” she told Hunter.

  Hunter nodded, as if absorbing her comment. “It’ll happen,” he told her confidently.

  He was patronizing her, she thought. “How would you know that?” she demanded.

  “Simple,” he answered. Crossing to the living room section, he made himself comfortable on her oversize sofa. Oversize, like the Cavanaugh family, he couldn’t help thinking, amused. “Because you’re the type if you want something, you make it happen.”

  Opening her refrigerator, Kenzie took out the coffee tin.

  “And you know this how?” she asked, popping in a filter and then measuring out both the ground coffee beans and the amount of water needed to make two cups of coffee.

  He couldn’t just toss words around like that without being held accountable. Even if he was trying to be comforting.

  “Easy.” Turning to get a better glimpse of her, he flashed Kenzie a grin. “I’ve made a study of all the Cavanaughs.”

  Kenzie frowned. She hadn’t been prepared to hear him say something like that. “That sounds creepy. You realize that, right?” she said, sitting down on the other end of the sofa.

  “No,” Hunter contradicted, “that sounds like a man without a family who wishes he had one.”

  Gotcha! He wasn’t keeping his stories straight, she thought triumphantly. “I thought you said you had a father and a younger brother.”

  He never even winced. “Emphasis on the word had,” he told her. “My father died just before I graduated from the academy. His liver had finally had enough of his drinking and just gave out. My brother was missing for a while—and then I found out that he had died of a drug overdose six months ago.” There was a rueful smile on his face although he wasn’t looking at her anymore. “Your brothers are the closest thing I have to a family. And by association, that goes for the rest of the Cavanaughs, as well.”

  The coffee maker went through its cycle quickly, then gave off three short beeps, indicating that it had finished brewing. Instead of saying anything, Hunter got up and crossed to the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, on her feet and following him into the kitchen.

  “The coffee machine was calling,” he answered.

  She was at the counter, taking down two mugs. “I invited you in for coffee. You shouldn’t have to pour your own.”

  “I don’t mind. We don’t need to stand on ceremony.” Hunter turned to look at her. His eyes were deep, intense. “I’d say that we’re way past that, wouldn’t you?”

  She took a breath, watching him, feeling her nerves grow increasingly more agitated. “You didn’t come over for coffee,” she said. It wasn’t a guess.

  He put the creamer down on the counter. “No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I am not about to push anything.”

  “So what are you doing here?” she asked, even as she felt her throat tightening farther. Her pulse was racing so hard, she
was having trouble breathing.

  “Following your lead,” he said truthfully. “And really hoping that you do lead,” he added.

  She took a step closer to him, her heart hammering hard in her chest. Her eyes never left his face. Why did he fascinate her this way? Why, of all the men who were out there, did she have to have feelings for this man?

  “I’m probably going to regret this,” Kenzie told Hunter in a low voice as she threaded her arms around his neck.

  “You don’t know that,” he told her, closing his arms around her waist and gently drawing her closer to him.

  Yeah, I do.

  Kenzie thought she said the words out loud, but maybe she didn’t. Maybe she just thought them. But it was too late to find out because his lips were on hers and there were all sorts of delicious, hot explosions going on inside her at this very moment.

  It was too late, much too late, for her to put on the skids and stop this.

  And even if she could, Kenzie thought, she wouldn’t because she didn’t want to. At this particular moment in time, she needed to make love with this man, needed to feel the wild, demanding sensations that she instinctively knew he could create within her.

  From the moment her lips touched his, she just knew that this was what she had been missing. That somewhere on some lofty plane, it was written that he could satisfy all the needs she was experiencing, all the needs that were throbbing within her.

  Her fingers swiftly flew along the front of his shirt, freeing the buttons from their respective holes.

  The next moment, she was tugging his sleeves off his muscular arms until he was free and unencumbered by the material.

  And as she did that, she felt his hands drawing the zipper down along her back until it reached the end of its journey. Her whole body tingled as the dress she had worn to the celebration seemed to almost sigh as it floated down about her ankles.

  She stepped out of the colorful blue pool her discarded dress formed, abandoning her shoes at the same time.

  Her breath caught in her throat again as she tugged at the belt at his waist, uncinching it. She felt the hook at her back loosen.

  Her bra slipped from her body just as his trousers did the same from his.