Cavanaugh Stakeout

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Finn brought her to the location where the body had been discovered. They both looked over the area very carefully, although there really wasn’t anything to be found.

“I’m not really sure if this has any sort of a connection to the woman we’re looking for,” the detective admitted.

“You said there was a note,” she reminded him. That would mean a connection, Nik thought.

“Yes, and her thumbprint was on it, but for all we know, the dead woman might have just picked the piece of paper up and had it on her person when she was killed. I don’t know if it actually had anything to do with her murder.”

And she got the impression that he really didn’t know what was on the note, so there was no sense in asking him that again, Nik thought. She tried another tack. “How did the woman die?” Nik asked him.

That much he could tell her, even though the information was secondhand. “According to my partner, who called me, she was stabbed through the heart.”

Nik filled in the blanks from the way the detective worded his answer. “Then you didn’t see her?”

Finn looked at her sharply. “And what makes you say that?”

Nik answered automatically. “Elementary, my dear Watson,” she teased. Then, seeing that the man appeared to be in no mood for a lighthearted answer—why didn’t that surprise her?—she replied seriously. “It was the way you phrased your answer.”

“Well, you’re right.” She was surprised he actually admitted that. “They had already taken the body to the medical examiner when I arrived,” Finn told her, his voice sounding exceedingly serious.

Nik automatically glanced at her watch as she asked, “What time does the medical examiner’s office open?” She began to walk back to her car.

This was a mistake, Finn thought. He had really managed to open up a can of worms by calling her. Whatever she could add to the investigation, it wasn’t worth having to put up with this would-be insurance detective stomping through his investigation.

“Why do you want to know that?” he asked her.

She stopped and turned around. She would have thought the answer to that would have been pretty self-evident. “So we can confirm her time of death and the manner in which she was killed. Why are you asking me ‘why?’” she asked. “I know this isn’t your first investigation—and, believe it or not, it’s not mine, either. You called me so you obviously want me here. Why don’t you stop pretending that you find me annoying and let’s get on with this and be on the same page?” she told him.

“I’m not pretending about finding you annoying,” he replied. “But let’s just put that on hold for now.” This wasn’t just a mistake—this was a huge mistake. A huge mistake for a number of reasons. But he wasn’t about to say as much to her out loud. She would undoubtedly go on and on about that if he did.

Finn sighed. “All right,” he agreed like a man who was resigned to his fate, “but before we go anywhere, I want to make certain things perfectly clear.”

Uh-oh, here it comes, Nik thought, bracing herself for another lecture. “Such as?”

“Such as that as long as you’re with me on this investigation, you’re going to play by my rules. If I tell you to do something, you won’t argue with me, you’ll just do it.”

His wording left something to be desired. “First, I don’t think there’s going to be any time for ‘playing,’ Cavanaugh. And as for the second part of that ‘commandment,’ people have gotten into trouble adhering to that.”

He frowned. “This isn’t the time for cracking jokes, either,” he informed her. “Now, if you’re not going to take this seriously—”

“Oh, I take my job very seriously, Detective. I always have.” She looked up into his eyes, a silent challenge in hers. “How about you?”

“I take everything seriously,” he informed her somberly.

“I can believe that,” she quipped. “You know,” she continued, “that just might be your problem.”

About to get into his vehicle, he looked at her sharply. “Are you actually analyzing me?” he demanded.

Her expression was innocence personified. “No, just trying to be helpful.”

Yeah, right, he thought. “Well, don’t,” Finn ordered.

Nik cocked her head, looking at him. “Message received. To the medical examiner’s?” she asked, waiting for him to confirm that that was their next destination.

But it was obvious that Finn had a different idea. “You said you were friends with Marilyn Palmer’s mother—or was that an exaggeration?”

“No, that wasn’t an exaggeration.” She could feel herself getting annoyed and banked down the feeling. He probably didn’t realize that he was accusing her of making things up.

Pressing her lips together, she studied him for a moment, trying to decide whether working with this man was going to be a mistake. Well, she was here, so she might as well see where this led. But she did want to get something out in the open. “You don’t play well with others, do you?”

His expression darkened again. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you really don’t know me, but you just accused me of making things up to further what you assume is my agenda.” She waited for him to deny it—or to have an epiphany, if that was possible.

His darkened expression only lightened by a fraction. “Sorry if I insulted you,” he said sarcastically.

Finn wasn’t prepared for the smile that came over her face—it seemed to light up the whole immediate area, even though the sun had already risen.

“Okay,” she said brightly. “Apology accepted,” Nik told him.

He scowled at her. He didn’t like having her think he was apologizing for anything. “I take it you’re not acquainted with sarcasm.”

“Oh, I’m acquainted with it,” she assured him. “I was just hoping that your lack of social skills made what you meant as an apology sound as if you were being sarcastic.” She grew serious. “I think that if you stop thinking of me as someone interfering in your investigation and start thinking of me as an asset to utilize, we stand a chance of getting along a whole lot better.”

Finn chose not to reply to that. Instead, he told himself that the sooner he and the others working with him on this case could pull all the stray pieces together, the sooner he could be rid of this irritating woman.

At least he could hope.

“Do you think that Marilyn Palmer’s mother will be up yet?” he asked Nik.

“Oh, I know that she is,” Nik assured him. When he raised his eyebrow, appearing doubtful because of the hour, she explained. “She hasn’t really slept since Marilyn didn’t come home the other night.”

That wasn’t all that unusual, he thought. Nodding, he suggested, “Why don’t you lead the way?” And then he added, “Slower, this time,” he added.

“I didn’t speed,” she told him, throwing a grin over her shoulder. “I was just anxious to see you and, like I said, it turned out that all the lights were in my favor.”

There was laughter in her eyes, most likely at his expense, Finn thought. Ordinarily, he would have taken offense that she was laughing at him, but for some reason, he didn’t.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered. “Let’s get going,” he ordered, waving a hand at her car.

“I’ll go slow so you don’t lose me,” Nik said, remembering his instruction with a smile as she pulled open her driver’s-side door.

“I should be so lucky,” Finn murmured under his breath.

“I heard that, Detective,” Nik responded with a laugh.

“Just go. Don’t worry about losing me.” Even if she did, he had the address to the Palmer house.

Finn got into his vehicle. Again, he told himself that he really needed to have his head examined for having called this woman. Still, he supposed that there was an outside chance that this woman that Nik Kowalski was initially looking for was involved in not just Seamus Cavanaugh’s carjacking, but in the murder of the woman who had been found in the Dumpster as well.

In any event, he wanted to interview Marilyn Palmer’s mother and he had a feeling that taking this annoying blonde chatterbox with him to run interference might make things a little easier. She was right about one thing, he grudgingly acknowledged. He wasn’t as good as some of his cousins and siblings when it came to questioning people and getting them to trust him.

Finn started up his vehicle, pulled up directly behind her and they departed.

It didn’t take him long to realize that if this woman was driving any slower, she could have been accused of actually going backward.

He trailed behind the woman ahead of him for approximately three city blocks. Then, having had enough of this charade, he sped up and passed her.

Which was when she did the same thing.

Finn suppressed the urge to speed up again. He wasn’t usually competitive, but there was something about this woman with the laughing eyes that certainly had a way of pressing all his buttons, he thought.

This, too, shall pass, he promised himself.

Maybe it would, he thought, but definitely not soon enough for him.

They wound up reaching Kim Palmer’s house faster than he had intended. The modest one-story house had all the lights on despite the fact that it was now a little after seven in the morning. There was no need for so many lights to be on—unless they had been deliberately left on overnight to act as a beacon for her missing daughter.

“What was that all about?” Finn asked, getting out of his car at the same time that Nik emerged from hers.

She looked at him as if she didn’t know what he was talking about, her eyes wide.

“You started out going slow, but you sped up,” he told her.

“Oh, that,” she responded.