Protecting His Witness

by Marie Ferrarella

  In this whole world, nothing was more sacred to Andrew than family. Even family on the fringe, the way these three young individuals who had sought him out currently were. They deserved better than the kind of treatment they had received at Mike's hands. And he meant to see that they got it.

  Damn it, Mike, what were you thinking ?

  Andrew had begun the process of assimilation slowly, by first telling Brian. Now it was time for the next step. Letting Patrick and Patience know that they had siblings they'd never known about—and at the same time finding a way to make that acceptable to them.

  Nobody ever said life got easier.

  Patrick looked over at his sister. They'd been sitting here for several minutes and neither of them had a clue why their presence had been requested like this out of the blue.

  "So what's the big mystery, Uncle Andrew?" Patrick finally asked. "Why did you ask to see Patience and me and no one else?"

  Andrew took a deep breath, then chose his words carefully. Patience and Patrick were going to be hurt, and possibly angry—at least Patrick was. But he wanted that anger channeled in the right direction and not against the three who had come to him.

  "Because I thought you two would want a chance to get used to the idea before we told the others."

  "What idea?" Patience asked. "You're really being very mysterious about this, Uncle Andrew."

  There was no way to say this but to say it, he decided. His gray eyes swept over the young man and woman who he loved like his own. The two to whose aid he'd come more than once when Mike was in a particularly ugly mood.

  "I wanted you two to meet someone. Actually, three someones." Aware that Patience and Patrick eyed him, more confused than ever, he raised his voice a little, calling into the kitchen. "Ethan, Kyle, Greer, could you come out here please?"

  "Who are Ethan, Kyle and Greer?" Patrick asked. The next moment, his attention was drawn to the three people who entered the room, shepherded in by his aunt Rose. About to say hello to his aunt, the word faded from Patrick's lips. His wife's hand tightened on his, but he was barely aware of it. Barely aware of his sister's sharp intake of breath, as well.

  He felt as if he was looking into a mirror that had somehow gotten stuck several years in the past. The two men looked like he had when he was just out of college. The young woman was a younger version of Patience.

  "Patience, Patrick, I want you to meet Ethan, Kyle and Greer. Your half brothers and sister."

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  The silence in the room was deafening and seemed endless. Mike Cavanaugh's old family stared, dumbfounded, at his new one—and vice versa.

  And then Patrick broke the silence as he turned toward his uncle. "How long have you known?" he asked, his voice low, as if trying to contain his temper.

  Andrew met his nephew's heated demand. He didn't blame Patrick for his reaction. This was a hell of a piece of news to take in.

  "A couple of weeks."

  Feelings of being betrayed materialized out of the shadows. "And you didn't tell us?" This time Patrick didn't bother hiding the accusation in his voice.

  Andrew was the one person they'd counted on for the truth. Andrew was the father he'd always wished he had. Now he wasn't so sure.

  "I was looking for the right way to break the news to you and Patience. Obviously I didn't find it."

  Shock might have been restricted to one side of the room, but anger wasn't. It was obvious to Andrew that the newcomers felt it, too.

  Kyle squared his shoulders as he turned to his brother and sister. "Let's go."

  "Hold it," Andrew ordered, moving into the center, between what had swiftly become opposing sides. There was no mistaking the authority in his voice. While he shot a silencing look toward Patrick, his words were addressed to the trio he'd asked to his house for this meeting. "Declaring your existence is not a bad idea. Getting the family together as a whole is not a bad idea—"

  Kyle cut the former chief of police short. "Then why's he looking at us as if we've just crawled out of the gutter?" he demanded, waving a hand at Patrick.

  Andrew could see both sides. Sympathize with both sides. It was up to him to reconcile those sides and make them whole. "Maybe because Patrick had thought he'd seen the worst that his father could do, and to his devastation has just discovered that there was more."

  Greer moved forward. Of the triplets, she was the most even-tempered, but this situation tested her. The last one born, youngest by five minutes, she was still exceedingly protective of her brothers.

  "Are you saying that fathering us was the worst thing that Mike Cavanaugh ever did?" Even now, a month after being told who their father really was, the man's name felt awkward on her tongue.

  "No." Patience spoke before Andrew could answer. "But keeping you a secret all these years was." Rising from her seat, she came forward, her hand extended to this young woman through whose veins her father's blood ran. "Hi, I'm Patience."

  Greer looked at her half sister's hand for a long moment, trying to come to grips with such a wealth of emotions zigzagging through her that she couldn't begin to sort them out. Finally, drawing in a long breath, Greer took the offered hand and wrapped her long, slender fingers around it.

  "Greer," she said.

  It occurred to Greer that she no longer knew her last name. For twenty-three years, it had been O'Brien, her mother's name. But with her mother's deathbed revelation about their father, did that make her a Cavanaugh now? Or was she still an O'Brien?

  "I'm Greer," she repeated, trying to muster a smile.

  "And I'm sorry, but I'm out of here," Patrick said abruptly as he turned on his heel and headed toward the front door.

  "Patrick!" Maggie cried. But he gave no indication that he heard her. "He doesn't mean it," Maggie told the three people next to Andrew. "This is just a little hard for him to take in."

  "Welcome to the club," she heard one of the two men mutter. On her feet, Maggie quickly went after her husband. She managed to catch up to Patrick just as he was about to go out the front door. "Patrick, wait."

  "Don't apologize for me, Maggie," he snapped without turning around.

  Maggie shoved the door closed, cutting him off from his avenue of escape. "Well, someone has to when you act like an idiot." A former internal affairs officer, she knew what it was like to be on the outside through no fault of her own, what it felt like to be distrusted. "You think this is easy for them? Facing you? Carrying that stigma of being your father's bastards?" she demanded.

  When he turned from her, she deliberately shifted so that she was in his face. She loved Patrick far too much to allow him to appear to be cruel. She knew him better than that. The man withdrew in order to protect the boy.

  "Give them a chance, Patrick. Be fair." Her voice softened. "Be the man I fell in love with." She gave him an alternative. "If you want to be angry, be angry at your father."

  The anger in his eyes would have had her backing away if it wasn't so important to stand her ground. "You think I'm not?"

  "Actually," she replied with a sigh, "I think it's rather pointless to be angry at him, even though I suggested it." After all, the man was dead. There would be no restitution, no remorse, or even any explanations forthcoming from that quarter. "From everything I've heard about Mike Cavanaugh since joining this family, your father carried around a lot of demons that he never could come to terms with." In a way, she rather felt sorry for the man. He was tortured his whole existence. But her main objective was not to allow Patrick to be dragged down by his father's actions or his influence. "He was one unhappy man."

  Patrick laughed shortly. "Didn't exactly make life a picnic for the rest of us, either."

  A broad, encouraging grin curved the corners of Maggie's mouth. "And yet, you and Patience turned out just fine."

  "That was mainly because of Uncle Andrew." Andrew, who interceded every opportunity he got, who separated his sister and him from both his parents those times w
hen his father became a particularly ugly drunk.

  "Uncle Andrew," she repeated. "You mean the man you just walked out on?"

  Patrick frowned. Leave it to Maggie to be the voice of reason. To make him ashamed of losing his temper without saying a single accusing word. Damn, what would he do without this annoying, wonderful woman?

  He looked down at her. "You think you've won this argument, don't you?"

  Maggie threaded her arm through his, smiling up at his face. "Yup. Now let's get back in there so nobody suspects how damn pigheaded you can actually get at times."

  Patrick laughed softly. "I think Patience already knows."

  "Yes," Maggie agreed, "but Patience is a good soul. She'll take that little secret to her grave. Now try to smile," she encouraged. "You look really fierce when you frown."

  "Never made an impression on you," Patrick pointed out.

  "That's because I'm fearless," she told him brightly just before they walked back into the living room.

  "Change your mind?" Andrew asked mildly, glancing at his nephew.

  "Changed his heart," Maggie corrected.

  Andrew nodded. "It was always a good heart. Now then," he said, turning toward the others, "let's get acquainted over some lunch."

  This time, there were no dissenters.

  * * *

  "So how do you feel?" Andrew asked, popping his head into the tiny room to check on his brother the following Saturday afternoon.

  In his estimation, Brian had never looked better. Not even at his first wedding. Despite their trials and tribulations, the years had been good to Brian, making him look more distinguished and downplaying the wild, mischievous boy he'd once known him to be. Downplaying that facet, but not altogether doing away with it. All Brian needed to do was smile broadly and the boy he'd been was right there, in his eyes.

  Brian took in a deep breath. It didn't seem to help. His nerves were a tangled web of wet spaghetti. He looked at Andrew's reflection in the mirror. "Like I'd rather face down a boatload of Columbian cocaine smugglers armed with AK-47s."

  Andrew stepped into the small room just off the altar. Several feet beyond that, the church, bedecked with pink-and-white carnations, smothered in sprigs of baby's breath, filled up with family and friends who had come to bear witness to this happy occasion.

  But within the tiny room, the tension was palpable.

  Noting that Brian's bow tie was slightly askew, Andrew carefully adjusted it, shifting it a micro-inch to the side. "I'm sure that little comment would warm Lila's heart if she'd heard you."

  Brian stared up at the ceiling as his brother fussed over him. "Has nothing to do with Lila."

  Andrew's eyes met his. "She's the one you're marrying."

  "Yeah, about that." Brian cleared his throat nervously. He'd never thought about being old, but maybe he should have. Marriage was for the young, not the young at heart. "Do you think I'm being a fool?"

  "No more now than usual." Andrew stepped back, and then grew serious. "But if you let Lila go a second time, then yes, I think you're being a fool. Brian, this is the woman you were meant to be with all along. No disrespect to your late wife, but Lila's so much more of a true fit for you than Susan ever was. Lila's your soul mate. Just like Rose is mine." Putting his hands on his brother's shoulders, he turned and pointed Brian toward the door. "Now get out there," he urged. "Before Lila comes to her senses and makes a run for it."

  "Right," Brian said with renewed feeling, his cold feet becoming a thing of the past. But he paused for a second, looking at his brother. "Thanks for being there, Andrew."

  Andrew grinned, slapping him on his back. "It's what I do. Just remember what you just said the next time you get mad at me. Now let's get out there and get you married."

  He gave Brian a little push out the door.

  * * *

  Zack glanced toward the bride's side of the church and was relieved to see Kasey still sitting where he'd placed her. Their eyes met and he smiled. He would have wanted to enjoy the ceremony sitting beside her, but Brian had asked him to be part of the wedding party, which meant that for the duration of the ceremony, he and Kasey would be apart.

  And he would be unable to stop her if she suddenly changed her mind about being here and left.

  So far so good.

  Standing at the altar, listening to Father Scanlon say the words to eternally tie his mother to Brian Cavanaugh, Zack silently admitted that his attention was diverted. He only half heard the priest as he kept his eyes on Kasey. And thought again how fantastic she looked.

  The ankle-length teal-blue dress adhered to her every curve. Kasey had literally taken his breath away when she'd first opened the door to admit him to her house earlier today.

  Two hours later, he still hadn't caught it back yet.

  Try as he might, he couldn't remember feeling this way about a woman before. He'd made a point to avoid feeling this way about a woman, afraid of where it might lead, what it might bring out in him.

  Though he tried to ignore its existence, there was this nagging sensation buried deep in his mind that was steadily moving forward, demanding attention. Reminding him that he was his father's son and as such, he needed to be on his guard to keep from losing his temper, to keep the consequences of that loss in check. Because apples, he'd heard time and again, didn't fall far from the tree.

  Which meant that he was an abuser waiting to happen.

  He couldn't imagine anything worse than acting like his father toward someone he cared about.

  "Hey," Frank whispered, nudging him. "We're supposed to follow Mom and Brian." He nodded toward the procession that now departed from the altar. "Where are you today?" he hissed.

  "Thinking about the case," Zack muttered, falling into place beside Brian's daughter, Janelle. It was a lie. The case was over, but it was the best he could come up with on the spot.

  "Not with that goofy look on your face," Frank contradicted. They stopped just outside the carved double doors as guests armed with cameras snapped memories from all possible angles. "Not that I blame you." Frank looked over his shoulder into the church as the last of the pews were being emptied. The woman he'd seen earlier with Zack made her way forward. "Nice-looking lady. Don't remember you ever bringing one around before." He looked at his older brother, quite impressed. "Is she on the job?"

  Frank asked him if she was part of the police force. He hadn't even told her that he was with the Aurora police department. "No. She works in a bookstore."

  Frank grinned. "She looks like the intellectual type," he teased. "She teaching you to read?"

  Zack gave him a look. This was Frank's not-too-subtle way of prying. "What she's teaching me is none of your business."

  Frank laughed, reading between the lines. "Oh, it's like that, is it?"

  Zack was about to answer when he heard Janelle laugh. He'd been paired up with her as they'd marched down the aisle. He eyed her quizzically now.

  "Sorry." The apology was for eavesdropping. "It's just that you sound like one of us already. If I closed my eyes, I wouldn't be able to tell you two apart from my brothers." Still beaming, obviously delighted to see her father this happy, Janelle rose up on her toes and kissed Zack's cheek, then shifted over toward Frank and repeated the gesture. "Welcome to the family, boys. Like it or not, you're Cavanaughs now—no matter what the name on your badge says."

  He was about to say something in response when a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Or maybe it was the vivid color of her dress that pulled his attention toward Kasey. She'd been coming toward him, but then abruptly stopped. She looked utterly stunned.

  Had she overheard Janelle's comment about his badge? It didn't matter any longer if she knew since as of yesterday afternoon, he was no longer operating undercover. The identity-theft ring had been effectively smashed and about half a million people would be receiving notices from the police department that they were the victims of an elaborate scam.

  Now he was free to admi
t he was a detective attached to APD's fraud unit.

  Was it his imagination, or had Kasey suddenly gone pale? He watched as she headed toward a side exit.

  "Kasey. Kasey, wait up." He glanced over his shoulder at his brother. "Tell the others I'll catch up to everyone at the reception."

  "What about pictures?" Janelle asked.

  "I'll make it in time," he promised.

  Right now, he needed to stop Kasey. Working his way through the last of the wedding guests, Zack hurried after her. He had nearly a foot on her and his legs were a lot longer. It didn't take much for him to catch up to her, despite the fact that Kasey had quickened her pace.

  "Kasey, damn it, wait," he called again. Why wasn't she listening? He caught her by the arm and pulled her around to face him. "Where are you going?"

  She didn't know where she was going. She didn't have an escape car. Zack had been the one to drive them here. All she knew was that she needed to get away, go somewhere quiet so that she could think. Damn it, she'd been blindsided. And now, it was useless to try to pull free. Instead, she went on the attack. It was all she had. "You're a cop?"

  She'd snapped out the words as if they framed an accusation. It made him acutely aware that there was so much he didn't know about the woman he found so attractive.

  He continued to hold on to her arm, afraid that she might bolt if he let her go.

  "Yeah, I'm a cop." His eyes searched her face, trying to make sense of her reaction. "I take it you don't like cops."

  Kasey's eyes narrowed. Why hadn't she trusted her instincts? They'd warned her he was too good to be true. "You lied to me."

  "No," he corrected patiently. "I didn't lie, I just never told you what I did for a living. But I would have lied if you'd asked me," he admitted honestly. "I would have had to," he explained. "I was undercover. But I'm not anymore."

  When he'd showed up at her door, shaven and in a tuxedo, she had literally felt her heart skip not one but several beats. But she'd attributed his clean-shaven appearance to the fact that he was in the wedding party, not that some secret operation he'd been assigned to was over.