Cavanaugh Strong

by Marie Ferrarella

  “She,” Noelle corrected.

  Duncan backtracked a step to get back on point. “She was insured, too?”

  Okay, so he hadn’t figured it out and she’d given Cavanaugh credit where it wasn’t due. Next time, she was going to have to listen more carefully to what he was actually saying before inadvertently volunteering information.

  With a sigh, she answered, “Yes.”

  “And, let me guess, the woman had no family, either?”

  “No family,” she confirmed. “At least, none that Lucy knew about. My grandmother also said that her friend Sally was in top condition. The woman ran five miles daily. According to Lucy, she was some sort of phenomenon and was always training for marathons.”

  “Lots of people train for marathons.”

  Noelle realized he was missing the salient point. “Yes, I know, but according to Lucy her friend was in her eighties.”

  She saw a flittering of surprise pass over his face. Was it her imagination, or did that somehow emphasize his cheekbones, giving him an almost brooding-romantic look.

  Oh c’mon now, Noely, get a grip. You’re staring down a possible double homicide and all you can do is get dreamy-eyed over his cheekbones? Are you having some sort of a crisis here? she demanded of herself.

  “Now that’s unusual,” Duncan commented. “What did she die of?”

  “Lucy said that her running partner found her in her bed, dead. Lucy didn’t say it specifically, but I think they just assumed it was a heart attack.”

  “Did anyone do an autopsy?”

  “Not that Lucy mentioned.” She had a feeling that the coroner had just gone with the obvious. After all, heart attacks were a common cause of death for people in their eighties. “Maybe we should find out,” she suggested.

  “Homicide isn’t our purview, remember?”

  Noelle paused for a second, then rolled her eyes and said, “I know. What was I thinking?”

  There was only a hint of a smile on Duncan’s lips as he shook his head and said, “Uh-uh.”

  “Uh-uh?” she echoed back at him.

  “Not buying it,” he elaborated. “You’re giving up too easy.”

  “Just bowing to your superior wisdom,” she told him tongue in cheek.

  “Now I really am suspicious,” he said as he looked at her knowingly. “You’re going to investigate on your own, aren’t you?”

  They’d been partners for less than a year. Maybe the boundaries needed to be refreshed, since he’d seemed to have forgotten them. “What I do on my own time, Cavanaugh, is my own business.”

  “That’s true,” he agreed. “If you’re talking about indulging in adopting pet snakes or living in sweats on your day off. But not if what you’re doing on your time off involves dead bodies.”

  She couldn’t really deny it vehemently because she’d always been unable to lie outright. All she could do was allude to a denial. “Like you said, homicide isn’t our purview.”

  “There are a lot of other angles at play here,” Duncan said as he rolled the matter over in his head, thinking out loud. “Insurance fraud might be behind this—if these people were killed strictly to collect on their policies.” And fraud was something they could definitely investigate. “We need to find out what insurance company was involved, who wrote the policies and which so-called charitable foundation or foundations collected once the generous donor stopped breathing.”

  She looked at him with new respect. “You really think we can get the green light to investigate this as insurance fraud?”

  “The only way to find out is to ask. We have a fifty-fifty chance of getting an okay.”

  She glanced toward Jamieson’s glass office. “But if the lieutenant says no, that’ll officially shut us down—isn’t it better to ask forgiveness than permission?” she asked, remembering having heard the old saying somewhere once.

  He laughed. Those were his feelings. He hadn’t thought that they’d be hers. Maybe she wasn’t as straitlaced as he’d thought. “You’ve got more going on under those bangs than I thought. Tell you what, why don’t we do a little investigating off the record first to see what we can come up with.”

  “Where do you want to begin?” she asked, getting up and reaching for her jacket.

  “With Brenda,” he told her, then nodded at the jacket. “You won’t need that.” With that, he led the way out of the squad room.

  Noelle was quick to follow him out and catch up. “Brenda?” she questioned.

  “Brenda Cavanaugh. She’s the head of the tech lab.”

  Another Cavanaugh. She should have known, Noelle thought as they approached the bank of elevators. “You people have a Cavanaugh for everything, don’t you? Is she your sister?”

  He grinned at her first comment. He supposed it might seem that way to some people. There certainly were enough of them throughout the police department. That worked both for them as well as against them at times. “She’s the chief of d’s daughter-in-law. I’m told she works magic on that computer of hers.”

  “Magic is good,” Noelle agreed as the elevator arrived. She preceded him. Her partner pressed the button for the basement. “But won’t she balk at being asked to do something unofficial?”

  “From what I hear,” he answered, “Brenda knows that over half of good police work is done by flying by the seat of your pants.”

  “From what you hear,” Noelle repeated. She was getting a very uneasy feeling about this. “Does that mean you haven’t dealt with her yourself?”

  “Not until today.” He saw the hesitation in Noelle’s eyes as the elevator brought them down to the basement and the doors opened. “But I have met her and she’s very approachable,” he was quick to reassure.

  “Where did you meet her?” she asked.

  “At Andrew’s house.” Realizing that since his partner hadn’t known who Brenda was, she might also not know who he was referring to when he said Andrew. Duncan added, “Andrew’s the former chief of police. He’s got a thing for family gatherings and likes to throw parties to bring as many of us together as he can.” The next moment, a thought struck him as he led the way through the maze that would eventually bring them to the tech lab. “You should come the next time he has one,” he invited. “And bring your grandmother.”

  “Just like that,” Noelle scoffed.

  To her surprise, he didn’t back off. “Sure. The more the merrier, Andrew’s always saying.”

  He had to be kidding, right? “I should just pop up at the former chief of police’s house with Lucy some weekend.”

  “Word has it that everybody else does,” he assured her.

  How gullible did he think she was? She didn’t crash parties. “You said they were family gatherings. I’m not family,” she pointed out.

  “You’re a cop, that makes you family.” Duncan saw the skepticism in her eyes. “Hey, that’s not my philosophy, that’s Andrew’s,” he informed her, then added, “And it might help your grandmother get her mind off her friends dying.”

  Noelle was not about to accept pity for her grandmother. “Lucy’s a rock,” she said defensively.

  “No, she’s not,” he countered, then quickly said, “Rocks don’t have friends,” before she could launch into a rebuttal.

  Caught off guard by the flippant remark, she was at a loss to respond. The next second, she had collided into him because Duncan had abruptly stopped walking.

  If he noticed how soft her contours felt against him, he gave no indication. Instead, he merely said, “We’re here.”

  Pausing to deliver a single, quick rap against the closed door, he opened it and gestured for Noelle to walk in first.

  When she did, Noelle quickly looked around the newly refurbished tech lab. There were several people within the lab, their attention completely focused on the
state-of-the-art computers that were on their desks. The technicians’ backs were all turned to the door.

  Brenda Cavanaugh’s desk was twice as large as her staff’s. That was because she had two computers hooked up to two separate monitors on it.

  Her desk also faced the door so that she was able to see everyone who came in.

  What began as a quick, ascertaining glance as the duo entered turned into a gaze as partial recognition set in. Brenda’s fingers, however, never stopped for even an instant. They continued flying across the keyboard.

  Duncan led the way to Brenda’s desk. Not expecting her to recognize him, he waited until he reached it before introducing himself. “Brenda, I’m—”

  She didn’t bother to let him finish. “I know who you are, Duncan,” she told him. “I’m good with names and faces. Given the family I married into, I have to be,” she added, flashing a warm smile at Noelle. “But yours I don’t know,” she confessed, looking at Duncan’s partner.

  Noelle was quick to enlighten her. “I’m Noelle O’Banyon.”

  “Your partner?” Brenda asked, her eyes shifting to Duncan.

  “Yes and indirectly, kind of the reason we’re here,” he told Brenda.

  “I’m listening,” Brenda said.

  As succinctly as possible, Duncan summarized why they’d come down to the lab to see her. He made sure to emphasize the oddity of both deceased senior citizens having been signed up for insurance policies within the past eighteen months despite not having any relatives or significant others in their lives to appoint as their beneficiaries.

  “And now you’d like...?” Brenda’s voice trailed off as she left her question open-ended.

  “As much information about both deceased people as possible,” Noelle told the head of the lab before Duncan could answer. “We need to know what insurance company underwrote the policies, what agent sold the polices and most important, the name of the so-called nonprofit foundations that were on the receiving end of the death benefits.”

  Brenda nodded, taking it all in. “In other words, pretty much everything to do with these policies.”

  “Pretty much,” Duncan echoed.

  Brenda was silent for a moment, thinking. “You believe these two people were set up,” she concluded.

  “Well, at the very least, we’d like to rule that out,” Duncan answered.

  “Diplomatic save,” Brenda replied, inclining her head. “Is this an undercover operation?” she asked.

  Duncan wanted to give her plausible deniability in case this somehow either blew up in their faces or came back to bite them. Just because something about the case felt off didn’t necessarily mean that it actually was—in which case they would be doing a great deal of unnecessary work.

  “Let’s just say it’s off-the-record,” he answered.

  “How off?” Brenda asked.

  Cavanaugh was right. The lady was sharp. Noelle decided that it was in their best interest to tell the woman the truth, with no reservations.

  “The two people we need you to investigate were my grandmother’s friends. When she told me about their sudden deaths, then mentioned that each had recently signed up for a life insurance policy, the whole thing seemed rather suspicious to me.”

  Brenda extrapolated on the statement she’d just been given. “You think someone’s getting old people to apply for life insurance and then killing them so the policy could pay out.”

  Noelle inclined her head. It sounded so much worse when Brenda put it into words. “Something like that, yes,” Noelle admitted.

  “So you think your grandmother might be next?”

  Noelle’s jaw dropped open. Where had Brenda gotten that idea from? Of course, now that the thought had been planted, she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else.

  “Oh, no, not her,” Noelle denied adamantly. “Lucy’s too smart to be taken in by that kind of thing—and besides, we’re her family.”

  “‘We’?” Brenda asked, immediately picking up on the pronoun.

  “My daughter and I,” Noelle explained. “The people who were killed had no family. I think the killer or killers knew that before they set them each up.”

  “Makes it easier,” Brenda commented. “There’s no one to contest the insurance policy’s allocation of death-benefit money,” she concluded. The next moment, she was nodding at them. “Okay. I’ll get to this—” she gestured at the notes she’d taken “—as soon as I can. I’m afraid that I’ve got a couple of things ahead of you at the moment.” She gestured at the rather large pile of data that was not just filling her in-box but overflowing it, as well.

  “I’ll call you if I come up with anything,” she promised Noelle, putting her hand over the other woman’s. The next minute, she shifted her attention to Duncan. “Hey, are you going to be there next weekend for the big event?”

  Duncan laughed. He was surprised that she even had to ask. “I couldn’t very well not come to my own brother’s wedding now, could I? He’s the first one from my family to bite the dust.”

  “What a sensitive way to put it,” Brenda commented, then went on to say, “Sometimes it’s hard to tell all you Cavanaughs apart without a score card.” She turned to look at Noelle. “How about you?” she asked.

  Had she missed something? “I’m sorry. How about me what?”

  “Are you coming to the wedding?” Brenda asked.

  Rather than answer her right away, Noelle glanced at her partner for a further explanation.

  “My older brother is getting married next Saturday,” Duncan told her, adding what he had already touched on earlier today. “Andrew’s having one of those blowout bashes that I told you about.”

  “They met on the job,” Brenda interjected, giving her a little background to flesh the story out. “She thought he was trafficking in underage sex slaves and he thought she was a madam.”

  “Sounds like love at first sight to me,” Noelle quipped. She couldn’t help wondering if she’d suddenly gotten sucked into a vortex with facts and occurrences being thrown at her, right and left.

  “You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Duncan said to Brenda, referring to his partner’s attendance at his brother’s nuptials. “I already told her that I thought Lucy might enjoy the diversion.”

  “Lucy?” Brenda asked, looking from him to Noelle for an explanation.

  “That’s my grandmother,” she explained. “She won’t come right out and admit it, but losing her friends has hit her pretty hard.”

  “Who can blame her?” Brenda commiserated. “Sounds like a Cavanaugh wedding might be just what the doctor ordered. Oh, and go ahead and bring your daughter,” she added. “All the kids will be there at the wedding. Your daughter’ll have fun.”

  Noelle thought that was rather a broad assumption. “You don’t know how old she is,” she pointed out.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Brenda said. “We’ve got a wide range of kids coming to the celebration—Andrew wouldn’t have it any other way. The kids come in all ages, all sizes. There’s bound to be some your daughter can play with. It’ll be fun,” Brenda promised her, adding with a broad smile, “I’ve never been to a Cavanaugh party that wasn’t.”

  “She ought to know,” Duncan said, adding in his two cents. “Brenda’s been attending these functions, gatherings and parties a lot longer than I have.” Wanting to wrap this up and move on with the unofficial case, Duncan told his partner, “Tell you what. I’ll pick the three of you up next Saturday at eleven and bring you to the reception if you’d rather skip the ceremony.”

  He was going to an awful lot of trouble in her opinion. In his place, she would have just scribbled down an address and left him to figure out how to get there himself.

  “Won’t your date mind you picking us up like that?” she asked.

  “As it happens
,” he explained, “I’m currently between dates. Besides, I wouldn’t bring a date to a wedding,” he added with feeling. “It might give her ideas.”

  Brenda laughed and shook her head. “He thinks he’s a confirmed bachelor,” she confided to Noelle in a stage whisper, clearly not of the same opinion about the matter as Duncan was. “I’ve seen it before,” she said. “In case you’re wondering, every one of those so-called ‘confirmed bachelors’ is married now.”

  This was where he needed to make an exit, Duncan decided. “Some people just have trouble sticking to their convictions,” he told Brenda. With that, he turned on his heel. “I’d appreciate getting a call when you have some answers,” he said as he walked out.

  Noelle had the presence of mind to look over her shoulder at Brenda and say, “Thank you,” before she fell into place and followed her partner back to the elevator.

  Chapter 6

  “A wedding?” Lucy asked in surprise when Noelle broached the subject of Duncan’s invitation to her grandmother that evening.

  “Yes.” They were in the kitchen and Lucy was getting dinner started. Tonight’s fare was chicken parmesan, Melinda’s favorite. “My partner’s brother is getting married next Saturday and we’re invited.”

  “Your partner.” Lucy slid the last piece of breaded chicken into the heated frying pan and placed a vented cover to keep the crackling splatter contained. “Is that the tall, good-looking guy who came to Henry’s funeral?” her grandmother asked, slanting a knowing glance at her.

  Noelle smiled, amused at what seemed to stand out in her grandmother’s mind. “That’s him,” she confirmed—as if Lucy didn’t already know.

  Lucy nodded, taking a fork out of the utensil drawer. “You should go.”

  “The invitation was extended to all three of us. Melinda, too,” she added when Lucy looked at her quizzically.

  Lucy frowned slightly to herself. “I can see your partner inviting you as his date, but this isn’t his reception,” she pointed out. “He can’t just invite two more people the groom doesn’t know.”