Читать книгу The Cavanaugh Code - Marie Ferrarella - Страница 9

Laredo had gotten to his position in life by reading people correctly. Innate instincts had trained him to be an excellent judge of character. Consequently, he knew when to push and when to step back.

He also knew when a little extra persuasion might help him wear down barriers. He had a feeling that the sexy-looking blonde with the serious mouth did not respond favorably to being either opposed or coerced.

Moving slightly forward in the chair so that his face was closer to hers, Laredo looked into the woman’s eyes. They were a shade lighter than his own. And very compelling. You could tell a lot about a person by the way they looked at you and her eyes never wavered, never looked away.

“C’mon, Taylor,” he coaxed, “what’s the harm in sharing information?”

She didn’t want him getting familiar with her. He wasn’t her friend, he was an annoying man and she was still debating having him arrested for tampering with evidence.

“It’s Detective McIntyre,” she informed him stiffly, and then added, “and I don’t talk about ongoing investigations with civilians.” And that, she hoped, would bring an end to any further discussion of Eileen Stevens’s murder.

The corners of Laredo’s mouth curved in what she could only think of as a devilish grin. A wicked expression flared in his eyes as he said, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Taylor would have felt better if she’d thought that the air-conditioning system had broken down that morning. At least then she would have had something to blame for the sudden overwhelming wave of heat surging through her body, leaving no part untouched.

Stalling for time as she tried to get a grip, Taylor blew out a breath. Laredo’s eyes, she noted, never left hers.

The way she saw it, she had three ways to go here. She could keep sparring with this annoying private investigator and, most likely, get nowhere while taking precious time away from her investigation. That option held no appeal because she was already behind without a partner’s help.

Her second choice was to get someone to eject this overconfident ape from the premises, but she had the uneasy feeling that Laredo wasn’t lying about having friends in the department. If he knew her brother, he had to know others as well. Trying to get him thrown out might make her seem like a shrew—and it probably wouldn’t work anyway.

Or, door number three, she could toss Laredo a crumb in exchange for finding out exactly what he knew. There was the chance that he had stumbled across something. After all, he had managed to get to Eileen Stevens’s penthouse apartment before she had. Who knew how long he’d been there or what he might have seen—and taken?

Door number three it was.

Taylor braced herself. “All right, what do you have?”

She watched as his smile unfurled further. Why did she get the feeling that he was the spider and she was the fly, about to cross the threshold into his open house?

“I believe I said, ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’ That means that you go first, as it should be,” he added, “since my mother taught me that it should always be ladies first.”

Try as she might, Taylor just couldn’t form a mental picture of the woman who’d given birth to this larger-than-life, annoyingly sexy specimen of manhood.

“You have a mother?”

The question had slid from her mind to her tongue before she could stop it. What the hell was he doing to her manners and, more importantly, why was she letting him do it? Once this case was over, she was definitely going on vacation. Her batteries needed recharging.

“Had,” Laredo quietly corrected, his seductive grin toning down several wattage levels—and becoming all the more lethal for it.

Taylor did her best to steel herself. For all she knew, Laredo could just be orchestrating this to make her feel guilty. If she felt guilty enough about stumbling onto this sensitive area, he might think she’d fold easily.

It made sense, but even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just stomped across ground she shouldn’t have. She was extremely sensitive when it came to matters that concerned family. Family was, if anything, her Achilles’ heel.

Her family was chiefly responsible for who and what she was today. She’d joined the force and become a police detective because her mother had been one before her. And, because of what she’d seen transpiring in her family as a child, she was gun-shy when it came to relationships. The moment one appeared to go beyond being an inch in depth, she bailed, remembering what her mother had gone through with her father. No matter that her mother’s second marriage seemed made in heaven; it was the tempestuous first one that had left its indelible mark.

Taylor found it ironic that while she had implicit trust in the men she’d been partnered with when it came to life-and-death situations, she absolutely refused to trust any man with her heart. Taylor staunchly opposed revealing her vulnerability.

Rallying, Taylor squared her shoulders. “Okay, here’s what I’ve got.” She deliberately ignored the touch of triumph she saw enter his eyes. “Graduating fifth in her class from Stanford Law School, Eileen Stevens worked her way up extremely fast. She became a much sought-after criminal lawyer who rarely lost a case. None in the last five years. Her list of clients reads like a who’s who of the rich and famous—or infamous,” she added, thinking of a couple of so-called “wiseguys” who were on the list. “She was made partner at her law firm six months ago. According to the electronic calendar they found by her bed, the woman ate and slept work 24/7. She didn’t appear to have a social life that wasn’t connected to the firm.”

Taylor paused for a moment, wishing she understood how a woman with no social life could end up the victim of a very personal crime. “But someone hated her enough to tie her up and wrap a wet piece of leather tightly around her neck, then wait for the strip to dry and strangle her. My guess is that the process took at least a couple of hours.”

“How do you know they waited?”

Laredo didn’t look impressed by her conclusion, just mildly curious, like someone asking study questions they already knew the answer to.

She told him anyway. “The carpet is thick and lush—my guess is that it’s fairly new. There was a set of shoe prints set in it next to the bed, like someone had stood there for more than just a minute. The killer, watching her die.” The comforter beneath the woman’s body had been all tangled, as if Eileen had thrashed around while tied to the bedpost, trying to get free, but Taylor didn’t add that, waiting to see if Laredo would.

He didn’t. Instead, he merely nodded at her narrative. “So far,” the private investigator told her, “we’re of a like mind.”

“And you have nothing to add?” she demanded. He was playing games with her, just trying to find out what she knew. She didn’t like being duped.

“I didn’t say that,” he told her evenly, his gaze locked on hers.

“So?” she asked impatiently.

“I don’t have anything from the present—yet,” Laredo qualified. “But what I do have is more of a background on Eileen.”

Taylor crossed her arms before her, waiting. “Go ahead.” It was an order, not a request.

Laredo obliged and recited what he’d learned since his grandfather had come to him with this.

“Eileen Stevens was thirty-eight and the complete epitome of an obsessed career woman. But she wasn’t always so goal oriented. When she was a seventeen-year-old high school junior, Eileen got pregnant.” He saw the surprise in Taylor’s eyes and knew she wouldn’t be challenging the worth of the exchange between them. “Her mother wouldn’t allow her to have an abortion. The baby, a boy, was turned over to social services the day he was born. From what I gathered, the experience made Eileen do a complete one-eighty. She turned her back on her former wild life and buckled down to become the woman she is today.”

“Dead,” Taylor couldn’t help pointing out.

A hint of a smile touched his lips. “I don’t think that was in her plans.”

If Laredo was trying to undermine her by laughing at her, he was in for a surprise, Taylor thought. She’d survived growing up with Zach and Frank, expert tormentors both.

“Anything else?”

Laredo spread his hands wide. “That’s it so far.”

She doubted it, but she had no way of keeping him for interrogation at the moment. “And who did you say you were working for?”

“I’m doing this as a favor,” he told her even though he was fairly certain that she hadn’t forgotten. She was probably just trying to trip him up, which was all right, he thought, because in her place he probably would have done the same thing. “My grandfather used to date Eileen Stevens’s mother. Carole Stevens was a single mother who worked double shifts as a cocktail hostess to make ends meet. That didn’t exactly leave her much time to be a parent and from what I gathered, as a kid Eileen needed a firm hand. After she graduated high school, they became estranged for a number of years—”

“Because her mother refused to allow her to have the abortion.” Taylor guessed.

Laredo inclined his head. “That was part of it, yes,” he acknowledged.

So he did know more than he’d just admitted. “And the rest of it?”

He shrugged. “Just the usual mother-daughter animosity.”

She didn’t like the way he just tossed that off. Taylor felt her back going up. Something about him made her want to contradict him no matter what he said.

“It’s not always ‘usual,’ Laredo.”

Her defensive manner aroused his interest. “You never clashed with your mother for no other reason than just because she was your mother?”

She definitely didn’t like his way of stereotyping people, she thought. “Not that it’s any business of yours,” she told him coolly, “but no.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. It seemed rather obvious to Laredo that Taylor McIntyre was headstrong and stubborn. He couldn’t visualize her being easygoing about things and letting them slide unless she wanted to.

“Not once?” he prodded.

“No,” she repeated. Less-than-fond memories had her adding, “That was for my father to do.” Then, realizing that she had said far more than she’d wanted to, she shot another question at him. “If Eileen and her mother were so estranged, why is her mother asking you to investigate who killed her daughter? Is there a will involved?”

As far as she knew, the police hadn’t even found out that the murder victim had a mother in the state. She’d left her next-of-kin information blank on the law firm’s employment form.

“I don’t know about a will,” Laredo admitted. “But as far as Carole and Eileen’s estrangement went, my grandfather said they’d reconciled just a few months ago. According to him, the reconciliation was all Carole’s doing,” he added. “Carole said she felt that life was too short to let hurt feelings keep people apart. Personally, I think my grandfather gave Carole a little push in the right direction.”

For a reason? Taylor wondered. “And your grandfather, how does he figure into all this? Beyond the little push, of course.”

Sarcasm always rolled off his back. Most likely, the long-legged detective was trying to get something more out of him, some “dirt” she probably thought he’d conveniently omitted.

Sorry to disappoint, Taylor, Laredo thought, doing little to hide his amusement.

“He’s just a nice guy who’s there for his friends, that’s all.”

“Or, in this case,” she reminded him, “volunteering you.”

He certainly couldn’t argue with that, Laredo thought. But then, in the scheme of things, it was the least he could do. If he spent the rest of his life as his grandfather’s right-hand man, he wouldn’t begin to repay the man for everything that he had done for him.

“Something like that,” he agreed.

Time to stop dancing, she decided. She’d already spent too much time getting next to nothing. “What is your grandfather’s name and where can I find him if I want to talk to him?”

“His name’s Chester Laredo,” a familiar, deep voice behind her said.

Taylor didn’t need to turn around to know that the voice belonged to her stepfather. At the same time, she thought to herself, so much for the mystery of why Laredo’s middle name was Chester.

The next moment, Brian Cavanaugh, Aurora’s chief of detectives, came around her desk, extending his hand to the man she’d been trying to pump for information. Brian smiled broadly at Laredo.

“Frank mentioned he saw you here. How are you, Laredo?” he asked warmly, shaking the younger man’s hand. “And what’s your grandfather up to these days?”

“I’m fine and he’s been running a security firm for the last five years,” Laredo told him, sitting down again.

“A security firm?” Brian laughed, shaking his head. “I never thought he’d leave The Company. I thought they’d have to take him out, feet first.”

“He thought it was time,” Laredo told him. “He didn’t think he could move as fast as he used to.”

“Chet?” Brian asked incredulously. “That man could pop open any lock and disappear faster than anyone I ever knew.”

That would explain the handcuffs, Taylor suddenly thought. And then the initial sentence played itself over in her head.

“The Company?” Taylor echoed, looking from her stepfather to the man at her desk. “Your grandfather was with the—”

“Yes,” Laredo said, cutting her off before she could mention the CIA. “He doesn’t like it getting around these days. Afraid it might scare off more clients than it attracts,” he explained.

Brian looked as if that made perfect sense to him. “Well, tell him I said hello and if he ever feels like catching up, he knows where to find me.”

Okay, this was another new turn, Taylor thought. What did Brian have to do with a member of the CIA? “Catching up?” she asked.

Brian left it deliberately vague. “We collaborated a couple of times back in the day.”

Taylor blew out a breath. She wasn’t going to get any more than that and she knew it. For all his affability, Brian Cavanaugh was extremely closemouthed when he wanted to be.

She moved on. “So you’re vouching for him?” She nodded at Laredo as she asked.

“Absolutely. I’ve known Laredo for as long as I’ve known you,” he told her. “Bounced you both on my knee—just not at the same time,” Brian added with the wink that she knew was her mother’s undoing. Brian shifted his eyes toward Laredo. “If I can help you in any way, just let me know.”

“I’ll do that,” Laredo promised. “But right now, I’ve got no complaints with the way Detective McIntyre is taking care of me.”

Brian smiled, affection brimming in his eyes as he looked at his older stepdaughter.

“Never doubted it for a moment. She’s one of our finest. Good seeing you again, Laredo,” Brian repeated just as his cell phone began to ring. He sighed. “No rest for the weary,” were his parting words as he walked away quickly, taking out his phone. “Cavanaugh here.”

“He’s a great guy,” Laredo said to her. There was genuine admiration in his voice. There, at least, Taylor thought, they were in agreement.

“Yes, I know.” She turned her attention back to the man at her desk. “I guess if he vouches for you, I can trust you.” She couldn’t help the grudging note that came into her voice.

“With your life.” Laredo sounded completely serious as he said it.

But she still couldn’t help wondering if he meant it, or was trying to throw her off. Ordinarily, if Brian vouched for someone, that was enough for her. But something about the way Laredo looked at her had her struggling to keep her guard up.

For the second time, she told herself to wrap it up. She had witnesses she needed to question and an investigation to kick off. Damn, but she missed Aaron. The man wasn’t due back for another six weeks. They stretched out before her like a long, lonely desert.

“All right,” she announced to Laredo, “if you have nothing else to tell me—”

The same sexy, lazy smile traveled along his lips, straight into her nervous system.

“I have lots of things to tell you,” he assured her, his voice deliberately lower than it had been, carrying only the length of her desk. “Preferably over a lobster dinner with soft music in the background and some champagne chilling beside the table.”

Nine times out of ten, that line probably worked, she thought. But not on her. “You’re a player.”

He smiled. If it bothered him to be caught, he didn’t show it. “When the occasion arises. The rest of the time, I’m pragmatic.”

You had to admire a guy who didn’t give up, she thought despite herself. “And plying me with liquor would be which?”

He looked at her for a long moment before saying, “A little bit of both, most likely.”

If she hung around him any longer, she was in danger of getting lost in those blue eyes, Taylor warned herself. “Well, I have a job to do, so if you’ll excuse me.” With that, she rose to her feet.

Laredo did the same. And as she went out of the squad room, he was right there, his steps shadowing hers until they both reached the elevator.

She had no recollection of issuing an invitation, Taylor thought.

Pressing the down button, she turned to face him. “Look, if you think you’re coming with me just because my stepfather bounced you on his knee—”

A touch of surprise entered his eyes. “Brian Cavanaugh’s your stepfather?”

It was something she assumed everyone knew because, in the world she inhabited, for the most part they did. “Yes.”

He nodded, as if approving. “Your mother’s got a good man.”

She was not going to get sidetracked. “Be that as it may, you’re not coming with me.”

“I didn’t think I was.”

She pressed the down button again. “Then why are you following me?”

“I’m not,” he told her innocently.

Where was the damn elevator? There weren’t that many floors. “Right.”

“In case it might have slipped your notice, ‘Detective,’ cars are supposed to be parked outside the building and I haven’t trained mine to come when I call so, consequently, if I want to use it, I have to go to the car.” He gave her an amused look. “Same as you, I suspect.”

She was about to press for the elevator a third time when it arrived. She saw that the car was almost filled to capacity. Ordinarily, she would have waited for the next car, but she wanted to get away from this man as quickly as possible. So she slipped into the car, trying to make the most of the space that was available.

As did he.

Taylor discovered that ignoring a man she found herself pressed up against was next to impossible no matter how hard she tried.