Cavanaugh Hero
Aurora’s finest become walking targets in
USA TODAY
bestselling author Marie Ferrarella’s Cavanaugh Justice miniseries
A serial cop killer has Aurora’s police force up in arms. And when the former chief gets hit, it becomes personal for Detective Declan Cavanaugh and his beautiful new partner, Charley Randolph.
Charley first took notice of the sexy, devil-may-care detective at the academy. Now she has no desire to get involved with a fellow officer. But as the bodies pile up and the threats grow more ominous, Charley must trust Declan not to reveal her true reason for working the case. Racing against the clock draws them closer—their forbidden attraction is as impossible to deny as the grave danger they’re in.
“As tempting as that might be,” Declan told her, “I’m speaking as the primary on this case, not as someone who’s attracted to you.”
Charley’s eyes widened. Was that another slip of the tongue? Or…? “Are you?” she heard herself asking. At least, it sounded like her voice, although for the life of her, Charley couldn’t have said where her question had come from.
The parking lot was deserted. The skeleton crew that was on duty had found parking in the front of the building. There was no one else in the immediate vicinity, no vehicles passing by. No one, he was acutely aware, to see them.
“No,” Declan answered, threading his fingers through her hair just before he cupped the back of Charley’s head. The words slipped from his lips in a hushed breath before he lowered his mouth to hers and did what he realized he’d been wanting to do since the first time he’d laid eyes on her seven years ago.
Dear Reader,
Once upon a time there was a writer who put her longing for a large family down on paper, and a five-book series about a police family was born. She became so enamored with the family that when the fifth book was finished, she came up with more family members, who in turn needed their own books. Twenty-six books later, the saga was scheduled to finally come to an end. Ah, but saying goodbye was not something this writer did well—or willingly. The upshot is, there will be more because she—I—in her desperation, came up with a reason why there would be more of these people who are united by blood, a last name and the desire to serve, protect and find that one special person to love. At this point I have to admit that writing about the Cavanaughs has become an addiction I have no real desire to kick. As long as there is at least one reader out there who wants to read just one more Cavanaugh book, I will be here, writing my heart out and happily obliging.
As always, I thank you for reading, and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
Love,
Marie
CAVANAUGH HERO
Marie Ferrarella
Books by Marie Ferrarella
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Private Justice
#1664
**The Doctor’s Guardian
#1675
*A Cavanaugh Christmas
#1683
Special Agent’s Perfect Cover
#1688
*Cavanaugh’s Bodyguard
#1699
*Cavanaugh Rules
#1715
*Cavanaugh’s Surrender
#1725
Colton Showdown
#1732
A
Widow’s Guilty Secret
#1736
*Cavanaugh on Duty
#1751
%The Colton Ransom
#1760
*Mission: Cavanaugh Baby
#1767
*Cavanaugh Hero #1788
#1788
Harlequin Special Edition
‡A Match for the Doctor
#2117
‡What the Single Dad Wants…
#2122
^The Baby Wore a Badge
#2131
#Fortune’s Valentine Bride
#2167
‡Once Upon a Matchmaker
#2192
-Real Vintage Maverick
#2210
‡A Perfectly Imperfect Match
#2240
***A Small Fortune
#2246
‡Ten
Years Later...
#2252
‡Wish Upon a Matchmaker
#2264
Silhouette Special Edition
Diamond in the Rough
#1910
ΏThe Bride with No Name
#1917
ΏMistletoe and Miracles
#1941
$Plain Jane and the Playboy
#1946
ΏTravis’s Appeal
#1958
Loving
the Right Brother
#1977
The 39-Year-Old Virgin
#1983
ΏA Lawman for Christmas
#2006
§Prescription for Romance
#2017
‡Doctoring the Single Dad
#2031
‡Fixed Up with Mr. Right?
#2041
‡Finding Happily-Ever-After
#2060
‡Unwrapping the Playboy
#2084
=Fortune’s Just Desserts
#2107
Silhouette Romantic Suspense
**A Doctor’s Secret
#1503
**Secret Agent Affair
#1511
*Protecting His Witness
#1515
Colton’s Secret Service
#1528
The Heiress’s 2-Week Affair
#1556
*Cavanaugh Pride
#1571
*Becoming a Cavanaugh
#1575
The Agent’s Secret Baby
#1580
*The Cavanaugh Code
#1587
*In
Bed with the Badge
#1596
*Cavanaugh Judgment
#1612
Colton by Marriage
#1616
*Cavanaugh Reunion
#1623
**In His Protective Custody
#1644
Harlequin American Romance
Pocketful of Rainbows
#145
ΔThe Sheriff’s Christmas Surprise
#1329
ΔRamona and the Renegade
#1338
ΔThe Doctor’s Forever Family
#1346
Montana Sheriff
#1369
Holiday
in a Stetson
#1378
“The Sheriff Who Found
Christmas”
ΔLassoing the Deputy
#1402
ΔA
Baby on the Ranch
#1410
ΔA Forever Christmas
#1426
ΔHis Forever Valentine
#1462
*Cavanaugh Justice
**The
Doctors Pulaski
ΏKate’s Boys
$The Fortunes of Texas: Return to Red
Rock
§The Baby Chase
‡
Matchmaking
Mamas
=The Fortunes of Texas: Lost…and Found
Δ
Forever, Texas
^Montana Mavericks: The Texans Are
Coming!
#The Fortunes of Texas: Whirlwind Romance
-Montana
Mavericks: Back in the Saddle
***The Fortunes of Texas: Southern
Invasion
%The Coltons of Wyoming
Other titles by this author
available in ebook format.
MARIE FERRARELLA
This
USA TODAY
bestselling and
RITA® Award-winning author has written more than two hundred books for
Harlequin, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans
worldwide. Visit her website,
www.marieferrarella.com
.
To all the readers who have been following the Cavanaughs since the first book and have asked for more.
Prologue
T
he gunshot was muffled deliberately, the extension on the end of the gun barrel all but silencing the scream of the bullet. A bullet that ended a life in less than a heartbeat.
One minute the inebriated, off-duty police officer on the sofa was looking up with those pathetic, puppy-dog eyes, talking about some little two-bit who had strung him along; the next, he wasn’t talking at all and those puppy-dog eyes weren’t looking at anything anymore.
The cop never knew what hit him, the shooter thought with satisfaction. He certainly hadn’t been expecting it, which was the whole point. The liquor had done its job, lulling the cop into a sense of complacency.
The shooter relished every millisecond of the bullet’s flight upon release. Relished even more the irreversible damage done by that bullet once it buried itself in the intended target’s flesh.
The shooter watched in captivated fascination as the last bit of light—and life—left Sergeant Matthew Holt’s gray eyes.
And within the shooter’s head, the sound of the discharging weapon had roared its presence, declaring its mission to be accomplished.
Justice.
Nothing short of justice had been carried out. A death had been avenged.
Vengeance
doesn’t only belong to God, but to me, as well.
“That’ll teach you,” the shooter said, addressing the blue-clad man on the sofa, the man with opened eyes that could no longer see.
The smile widened along the thin lips, a smile that not only represented triumph over what had just happened, but also saw into the future and relished the deaths that were to be.
“Don’t worry,” the shooter said to the dead man who lay sprawled on his once-white sectional sofa. “You’re not going to be alone for long. You’ll have a whole lot of company before I’m through.”
The cold, heartless smile spread even wider in barely contained anticipation. That was all there was left to live for these days.
Anticipation.
And revenge.
“Might even get crowded up there before I’m through.”
The shooter laughed, envisioning the carnage. And then, just as suddenly, the laughter ceased, vanishing as if it had never existed at all.
Sergeant Holt’s executioner took out an eight-by-ten sheet of paper that had carefully cut-out letters pasted on it, pristine letters that didn’t have even a smudge of fingerprints on them, thanks to the disposable plastic gloves on the shooter’s hands. The gloves were as antiseptic as any that were hospital-issued.
Holding the sheet of paper, the shooter bent over the still man, careful not to step in any of the blood that was even now spilling out onto the floor directly below the body, pooling there at a mesmerizing pace.
The paper kept slipping off the body.
“Damn it,” the shooter snapped, swallowing a more ripe curse. The paper was supposed to stay on Holt’s chest. The chest that was no longer moving, no longer drawing breath.
How the hell—?
And then, just like that, there was an answer.
The shooter rose, picked up a stapler off the victim’s desk and returned to the body. Leaning over the man who could no longer feel anything, the shooter stapled the note to his chest.
“Now it won’t slip off,” the shooter announced in triumph, laughing again, the sound a sharp contrast to the still body on the bloodied sectional next to the coffee table.
Dark brown eyes squinted as a mocking expression slipped over the shooter’s face. “Too bad you can’t put this lesson to any use.”
Standing back, the shooter admired the sign stapled to the victim’s chest. In a flurry of uneven, mismatched letters, the note made a chilling promise: “Only the beginning.”
The shooter paused for a few more seconds to admire the scene. There was an intense, overwhelming desire to smash the victim’s face in, but the shooter refrained from acting on it. Nothing could be allowed to mute the force of the message and if the victim’s face was obliterated, the power of the message might be lost. Because Holt was the first offender—but he was definitely not the last. Not by a very long shot.
“You brought this on yourself” were the last words the shooter uttered before quietly slipping out of the house and into the darkness of a moonless night.
The door was left unlocked, inviting discovery. And soon.