A Cavanaugh Christmas (6 page)

The next second, she turned on the heel of her boot and raced out of the office and straight to the parking lot.

Chapter 4

G
ut instincts had Tom taking off after the woman.

“Why are we running?” he called after her.

It surprised him that she could run faster than he’d given her credit for. Tom found he had to step up his own pace to catch up—which he did just before she rounded the side of the rental building. She was obviously heading for the parking lot in the back.

“There are three thugs trying to steal your car,” Kait tossed over her shoulder.

“Good reason.”

Tom had pulled out his service weapon and had it at the ready before she could even finish answering his question.

What happened next, when Kait reviewed it in her mind later, had all taken place incredibly fast and yet, somehow, it felt as if it was unfolding in slow motion, as well.

At least it did to her.

One second she and the Aurora detective had just reached the back of the squat building where the parking lot full of secondhand vehicles stood waiting to be rented out for the right price. The next she heard Cavelli or whatever his name was loudly proclaiming a single word, “Gun!”

Just like that, before she could hone in on where the weapon was and which of the thugs was pointing it, Kait felt herself being pushed down to the ground. Not just pushed down to the ground, but, at the same time, instantly having her body covered, as well.

Covered by a rock-solid, warm body that all but obliterated everything else that existed around her.

Had the air not already been knocked out of her, the pressure, both physical and otherwise, of the detective’s firm body against hers would have definitely managed to steal it away.

Wasn’t this guy made out of flesh and bone like the rest of them? So why didn’t he feel that way?

The thought moved through her startled brain as Kait found herself pinned to the cracked asphalt, unable to draw in a decent breath or proclaim her indignation at being shoved down.

And then came an almost deafening noise right above her head. Three shots fired in rapid succession, sounding so loud, her ears started ringing.

It took Kait a couple of seconds to orient herself amid the chaos and realize that the detective on top of her was the one doing all the shooting.

Opening her mouth to demand that he get off her, she never got the chance to speak.

Tom simultaneously scrambled to his feet, grabbed her forearm and yanked her to standing before dashing over to the fallen thugs, his revolver ready to fire at the first one who moved.

All three were down and bleeding. And cursing a blue streak.

Gun—and eyes—trained on the three men, Tom pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and carefully picked up the fallen weapon that was directly in front of the would-be thieves. The weapon that had made him fire his own.

Never once taking his eyes off the suspects, Tom tucked the gun he’d picked up into his waistband. He moved closer to the thugs quickly kicking aside the “slim Jim” one of the would-be carjackers had dropped. The long, thin metal tool was used by thieves, police and car mechanics alike to open up locked car doors when keys were unavailable.

On her feet, tension vibrating through her, Kait took out her own weapon. Not that she thought the detective needed her to back him up. He seemed to be very much in control of the situation. And, she thought with grudging admiration, it looked as if she owed him one. He had, quite possibly, saved her life.

Replaying the scene in her head, Kait realized that she’d heard a crack just as Cavelli had pushed her face down, and the noise hadn’t belonged to a dried twig breaking beneath the weight of her foot. One of the thugs had fired in her direction. If this apparently not-so-laid-back detective hadn’t acted as quickly as he had, she figured she would have been in a world of hurt right now—if not worse.

Tom turned his head a bare fraction of an inch, just enough for his voice to carry. “Call this in,” he instructed.

Behind them, the clerk had wandered out to see what was going on and uttered a mesmerized, “Awesome!” followed by a much more fearful, “Whoa.” The latter was accompanied by raised hands as Kait, anticipating more thugs, swung around to aim her weapon at him.

Seeing who it was, Kait frowned and turned back to the three prisoners on the ground.

Her frown deepened. She had no idea what the precinct number was and felt frustrated by her lack of knowledge. Her frustration increased because she had to admit to her ignorance. She’d never liked confessing shortcomings, no matter how minor.

“What do I…?”

Taking a step back so that his line of vision was level with hers, Tom spared a glance in Kaitlyn’s direction. He saw that she had her weapon out. Good. He liked that she didn’t have to be told to back him up.

Anticipating what she was about to say next, he told her, “Cover them, I’ll call the precinct.” Tom lowered his weapon just a shade as he pulled out his cellphone.

The man on the ground closest to her had a particularly malevolent expression in his dark eyes. It seemed to mock her. Rocking forward, he looked as if he was starting to get up.

Kait deliberately cocked her revolver, aiming the muzzle straight at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she told the thug, her voice low, threatening. “I’m not as good a shot as my partner is. If you make so much as a move, I’ll shoot. And who knows? I might just hit something important on you. Something you wouldn’t want to part with.”

Cursing and threatening to get his revenge, the thug nonetheless sank down.

In the middle of requesting a squad car and a couple of paramedics, Tom glanced in Kait’s direction. He had caught the offhanded compliment she’d just paid him and smiled to himself. Maybe being paired up with this woman wasn’t going to be so bad after all. God knew she was easy on the eyes. If she was good at her job, as well, so much the better.

Finished with the call, Tom tucked away his phone again.

“Go back inside and wait for the paramedics,” he told the clerk. The latter quickly vanished. Tom moved in closer to Kait. His eyes swept over her in quick, succinct scrutiny. “You okay?”

“Sure. The shot he got off never hit me,” she answered, her eyes still trained on the bleeding threesome, all of whom were on the ground, growing more vocal about their pain, as well as anger over being stopped.

“No, but I did,” Tom said. He realized belatedly that in trying to save her, he could have caused her to sustain a concussion. “Sorry I came down so hard on you. I didn’t bruise you, did I?”

“Why don’t you check her over to make sure?” the man farthest from the front called out and then leered. “Give us something to look at while we’re waitin’ on that ambulance.”

Tom was behind the thug in less than a heartbeat. He grasped the loudmouthed thief by the back of his dark, near-shoulder-length hair and jerked his head back. The thief yelped and then snarled. Tom pulled harder.

“One more word out of you and you’re going to have to learn a whole new way to eat your food, because you’re not going to have any teeth left.” For good measure, he touched just the tip of his gun muzzle to the man’s lower jaw. “Do I make myself clear?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” the thief snarled, then stifled a whimper as his hair was drawn back farther. “Perfectly,” he uttered between clenched teeth.

“Good.” Tom continued to hold on to the man’s hair as he ordered, “Now apologize to the lady.”

The suggestion was met with rage. “I ain’t— Okay, okay,” the thug cried as pain shot through his scalp because Tom had pulled harder on the strand of hair he had wound around his fingers. “Sorry,” the thief spat out, his small, brown eyes shifting toward Kait. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Kait merely nodded dismissively. She didn’t care to hear any insincere apologies. The man was less than dirt to her, anyway. What he said couldn’t bother her, couldn’t touch her. She’d learned a long time ago how to shut things out, how to compartmentalize.

And, when that failed, how to shut down entirely. There were times when this skill saved her. It kept her from being conquered by the life she’d never asked for and didn’t deserve.

The sound of approaching sirens pierced the air, and a squad car arrived just a step ahead of the ambulance that was coming from a different direction.

Tom backed up to let the paramedics and police officers get closer to the prisoners.

“You have some kind of knight-in-shining-armor complex?” Kait asked him.

He assumed she was referring to the interaction with the foulmouthed, would-be thief.

“No complex. I just wanted to teach that lowlife a lesson.” When she kept watching him, he elaborated. “That he can’t get away with making lewd comments about women in general and especially not about women in the department.”

“Technically, I’m not in the department,” she pointed out.

His shrug was casual—and oddly sensual, she thought before shutting the thought away. “Minor point,” Tom answered.

“That was pretty good shooting,” she commented as she attempted to change the subject. He examined her closely, as if he actually
was
checking her over for those bruises he’d asked about. She didn’t want him looking at her like that. It didn’t make her feel uncomfortable so much as it made her feel…restless. “You get out on the firing range much?”

“Enough.” Actually, he went out often. And he
was
good. So good that his name was in the small, select pool the department referred to whenever it needed to put a S.W.A.T. team together. Luckily, that wasn’t very often.

But he saw no point in telling her that. Despite the very real seriousness of the situation, the feel of her body beneath his had registered quite acutely. And now that he knew he hadn’t injured her, the memory came back for him to dwell on. And savor. It reminded him that it had been quite a while since he’d been out with a woman.

“Cavelli—Cavanaugh,” she corrected herself, then stopped. “What do I call you?” she asked. This uncertainty was annoying.

“Tom works,” he told her. “Or ‘Detective’ if you prefer. That hasn’t changed any.”

Now what was that supposed to mean? What
had
changed? She hated to admit it, but the man had aroused her curiosity, something that was usually dormant as far as she was concerned. For the most part, the only answers she’d ever required were those that directly affected the cases she worked. That had roots in the fact that her distant past was one big, empty space, and because it was, she’d accepted not knowing the answers to a lot of other things. She just wasn’t interested in knowing other people’s business.

But she had to admit that this mystery surrounding the detective’s last name did have her somewhat curious. Why was there a different nameplate on Tom’s desk when the chief called him one of his own and referred to him directly by the last name of Cavanaugh?

“Okay,” she allowed with a slight inclination of her head. “Tom.”

Was she just repeating his name, or drawing his closer attention? He gazed at the woman whose soft contours had momentarily broken through his powers of focus and concentration.

“Yeah?

Kait paused for a moment, looking for words. Expressing gratitude had never been easy for her. She had learned how to shut down early on, and that was her natural state. Warm words were not part of it. Still, the detective had acted quickly and selflessly. She wasn’t the kind to let things like that slide without acknowledgment. “Thanks.”

He smiled then, a wide, affable smile, and Kait felt something strange and unsettling going on in her stomach. And warm. Very warm.

She was driving herself too hard and was probably coming down with something.

“Glad I was there,” Tom told her before heading out to the front of the building.

So was she, she thought as she followed him.

All three thugs had their wounds—none life-threatening—attended to and bandaged. They were then questioned separately over a number of hours by both Tom and Kait, acting in tandem and individually. But after several hours, it became apparent that this was just a random act. There was no connection between the theft-gone-bad and the investigation that had brought her to Aurora in the first place.

The three men weren’t kidnappers; they had just seen an opportunity to steal a vehicle that was a cut above the rest in the lot. It was just their misfortune that the car belonged to one of Aurora’s finest—and that their clumsy attempt had been viewed on camera by another law-enforcement agent.

She was back to square one, Kait thought as she walked out of the room. An officer was taking the three down to be booked for attempted auto theft.

Walking back into the squad room, Kait did her best to keep her disappointment from showing, but she wasn’t as successful as she’d thought.

“Cheer up,” Tom coaxed. “Maybe we’ll have better luck with that photo we got off the phony license.”

Kait took the photo out of her pocket and unfolded it. The quality of the copy she held was grainy and she didn’t hold out too much hope, but right now, it was all she had to go on.

The clerk at the rental agency, once he’d calmed down, had been instructed to call them, night or day, the moment the van was returned to the lot. But there, again, she thought that the chances that they would find anything were slim
if
the van was even returned, which she thought was pretty doubtful. For all she knew, Megan and the van could be halfway across the country by now.

The very thought made her stomach sink. She shut the thought out and looked back down at the paper copy in her hand.

“Who do I see about having this run through facial-recognition software?” she asked.

It was after eight. “There’s no one there now, but I’ll bring it down to the CSI lab for you,” he offered. “They’ll get to it first thing in the morning,” he promised. The woman looked beat, he noted. Beautiful, but beat. “Want to get something to eat?” he asked.

The thought of eating hadn’t even crossed her mind. She shrugged indifferently. “I’ll get some takeout on my way out.”