Cavanaugh Hero (18 page)

* * *

“Hey, is it true?” Bobby Yu asked, hurrying over to them the moment he and Charley walked into the squad room. The tall, buff Chinese-American detective who prided himself on his martial arts proficiency, something he had been practicing since his eighth birthday, had been working with one eye on the door, waiting for Declan to appear and fill him and the others in on what was going on. Rumors were bouncing around the squad rooms like energized rubber balls.

Like them, Bobby had come in to get an early start working the case. Unlike them, he, Sanchez and Callaghan hadn’t been roused in the middle of the night with an emergency phone call.

He appeared genuinely concerned as he asked, “Did the cop killer get the former chief of police?”

“The chief’s been shot,” Declan confirmed. “But when we left the hospital, he was in surgery.”

“Then he’s alive?” Sanchez asked, hope entering his eyes.

The detective quickly made the sign of the cross the way his mother had taught him to do when he was a very little boy. A hardened detective, Sanchez still took comfort and strength from the simple gesture.

“He was when we left the hospital.” With Sanchez and Callaghan joining them, Declan addressed all three men. “Guys, we need to look at those surveillance tapes again, and comb through newspaper stories one more time.”

“What’d we miss?” Sanchez asked.

Declan looked at the man as he answered, “That the killer might be a woman.”

Callaghan’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“I never kid about murder,” Declan answered grimly, then paused for a moment, glancing in Charley’s direction. “It was Charley’s idea,” he told them, willingly giving credit where it was due. Then he gave them the best news so far. “There was a witness to the chief’s shooting, so maybe we’ll finally get this SOB whoever he or she really is.”

And then he glanced at Charley. His thinking was out of sync, he realized as he said, “We need to get to the crime scene.”

Having this hit so close to home had made him temporarily forget about protocol and the chain of events. He was putting last things first and vice versa.

“I wonder if they’ve sent out a CSI unit yet to where Andrew was ambushed?” Yu posed the question to Charley.

“I’ll bet you breakfast-to-go that they have,” Charley replied, hurrying to catch up to Declan. She hadn’t realized until now how
really
long his legs were. “And I bet your father sent that Brennan guy back out there to work with the unit, since Brennan was there to begin with and saw it all go down.”

“No bet,” Declan told her, never breaking stride as he made his way to the elevator.

She was practically jogging now, but she wasn’t about to complain. Declan had had a scare tonight and she completely sympathized with him. “What’s the matter, Cavanaugh, don’t like losing?”

Declan laughed as he hit the down button. “No, I don’t,” he admitted. “You’ve hit the nail right on the head, Randolph.”

In more ways than one,
he added silently as he slanted a quick glance in her direction.

And once this was all behind them, he was going to tell her about all those ways. And do something about it.

Chapter 17

T
he CSI unit was already on the scene when she and Declan arrived, just as Charley had predicted. And Brennan was there, apparently waiting for them before he got started.

“You want to walk us through it?” Declan requested.

“Sure,” Brennan responded, nodding a silent acknowledgment toward Charley. “That’s why I’m here—but my part in this isn’t going to take up much time. I was over there,” he told them, pointing to the alley that had, until last night, practically been his home away from home. The undercover agent had what appeared to be the top portion of a twin mattress set that had seen better decades serving as his makeshift bed. His past couple of meals had come from the trash cans that were located aromatically close by.

Looking the area over, Charley shivered involuntarily. “No offense, but I don’t think I’m looking to relocate to your part of town soon.”

Brennan laughed. “None taken. And since I was most likely recorded rescuing the chief, I’m probably going to be forced to relocate myself.” He shook his head, looking around the alley. “Can’t say I’m really going to miss this.”

“Back up,” Declan said. The DEA agent looked at him questioningly. Both Declan and Charley said the key word that had caught their attention at the same time. “Recorded?”

“Well, yeah.” Brennan appeared to think that was rather self-evident. “There are a number of security cameras around here.” He pointed at stores on both sides of the wide street. “Not to mention the one mounted over the intersection.”

Declan exchanged glances with Charley. He could see she was thinking the same thing.

Gotcha!

“Where did you say the shooter was standing?” Declan asked.

“When I heard the chief’s tires squealing, he was trying to miss someone who was standing in the middle of the road.”

“Had to be the shooter,” Charley declared. There was no other conclusion to be reached. “After the windshield was shot out, which way did—”

She didn’t get to finish her question. The DEA agent pointed directly behind her. “I saw the shooter running in that direction. I would have followed, but it was either that or saving the chief. I went with saving the chief.”

“And we’re all glad you did,” she agreed.

Declan was already striding back to the crime-scene investigators. “Get the names of all the stores on either side of the road and find out if they have working security cameras. If they do, I want all the footage subpoenaed,” he told the lead investigator.

“What about the one over the intersection?” Brennan asked. “Seems to me that would give you the best view.”

“That,” Charley told him, “we have back at the station.” Right in their own backyard, she thought. And they’d missed it.

But they were going to get their hands on it the minute they got back. Their first decent lead—thanks to the police chief.

Charley fervently hoped that the man would live long enough to appreciate the irony of the situation.

Finished giving his instructions to the lead CSI, Declan caught her eye and motioned for her to head toward her car. They needed to get back to the police station stat.

As he got into Charley’s vehicle, Declan’s phone rang. “Cavanaugh,” he snapped, yanking at his seat belt with the opposite hand. Buckling up was awkward at best.

“Tell Charley she was right,” Bobby Yu said. “We found that woman she was looking for on the restaurant footage and it’s the same one who worked at the middle school where our second victim turned up.”

“You’re sure?” Declan pressed.

“I’m looking at her likeness right now. It’s her, all right. Or her identical twin sister,” the detective threw in cavalierly.

“We’re coming in,” Declan said. Ending the call, he tucked the cell phone back into his pocket. Because he was seated, it wasn’t easy.

“Who was that?” Charley asked.

Glancing down at the speedometer, she forced herself to ease her foot off the gas pedal. Tension and anticipation were causing her to press down harder. She’d already gone over the speed limit twice and although there was no traffic at this time and they were conducting a murder investigation, none of that mattered if she plowed into another vehicle or lost control of her own.

She drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves.

“Detective Yu,” Declan answered her, shoving his cell phone back into his pocket for a second time. When it refused to retreat and stay put, he gave up and held it in his hand. “You were right.”

Charley nodded as if she expected to hear as much. “Good to know.” Then, when he didn’t elaborate, she prodded, “About?”

“That teacher who was on the scene when the second victim turned up. Yu just confirmed she was on the tape, entering the restaurant where the fourth victim was found in the alley, next to the Dumpster. Correct me if I’m wrong,” Declan mused, “but didn’t she say that her husband had been a cop?”

So he remembered that, too. She wasn’t imagining things. “That she did,” Charley agreed.

Declan glanced at the speedometer. “You’re going over the speed limit again,” he pointed out.

Charley had a hard time not laughing. He was lucky they weren’t flying. “You let me off with a warning, Officer, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Declan pretended to take umbrage. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

Charley grinned at him. She was feeling really good about this. They were closing in on the killer—once brought in, they could all stop looking over their shoulder and second-guessing their every move.

“Yup.”

He nodded, as if that was all he wanted to hear. “Okay, as long as I know.”

Charley didn’t bother stifling her laugh.

* * *

They arrived at the station, and then the squad room, a few minutes later. Yu was surprised to see them there, given that they’d been all the way across town when he’d called Declan.

“What’d you two do, fly?” he marveled, looking from Declan to Charley.

Declan slanted a glance at his partner. “Pretty much,” he replied. “You got this woman’s address for us?” he asked.

“Address, phone number, back history, anything you want,” Yu told him proudly. He’d worked quickly, sensing they were on to something. “By the way, she’s not married to a cop,” he said, pausing dramatically before clarifying, “She
was
married to a cop.”

“That’s right, she’d said she was a widow. How did her husband die?” Charley asked.

She could feel herself growing more excited about the trail they were on. The case was gelling and could very well be wrapped up by the middle of the day.

“I looked up his file on the database,” Bobby answered. “It said that his death was an accident, but I’ve got my doubts. Miller was being let go because someone accused him of accepting kickbacks to look the other way. There was a prostitution ring operating somewhere in the area,” the detective elaborated.

“What happened to the charges?” Declan asked.

“They were dropped when Miller died—but his wife still wasn’t entitled to get his pension because of the accusation.”

“Which would explain why she was still working,” Declan concluded.

“And why she’s so angry,” Charley added.

“She didn’t seem angry to me,” Declan said.

“The woman on that restaurant surveillance tape was not running for Miss Congeniality,” Charley pointed out.

Right now, they were waiting on another surveillance tape. The one from the camera feedback that was periodically amassed in the traffic surveillance room. Declan had sent Sanchez down to get it. All the major traffic intersections had a corresponding monitor that was displaying what was going on at that specific intersection.

During the day, there were several officers seated in the room, monitoring the traffic and on the alert for any accidents and blatant traffic violations. But during the evening, there might be just one officer in the room, or, at times, none.

Such had to be the case last night, Declan surmised. But at least they had the tape.

Clearly having used the stairs and run all the way, Sanchez breathlessly presented the DVD to him.

They lost no time in loading it onto a computer.

* * *

“Son of a gun, there’s the shooter,” Charley cried less than ten minutes later, after having sped up the recording twice. She looked to Bobby. “Can you enlarge this?” she asked.

“Piece of cake,” he told her. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He did it in one.

“It’s her, all right,” Charley cried, looking at the monitor.

“Find me an ADA who can get a warrant for us to search this woman’s house,” Declan ordered Callaghan. The detective was halfway to the door when Declan called after him, “Go see Janelle. She’s the daughter of the chief of Ds. She won’t ask you a hundred questions, she’ll just get a judge to sign off on it.”

“Do we have to wait for that warrant?” Charley asked, wanting desperately to go out and corner the woman on the tape.

As she looked back, there had been something off about the woman when they’d questioned her, but she’d chalked it up to the teacher being acquainted with the second victim.

It had all been there, in plain sight, and she’d missed it, Charley upbraided herself. She wanted to get going. There was no telling what the woman was up to at this point. She could have taken off to save herself—or she could be planning one last huge hit.

“Hell no,” Declan assured her. “We’re paying that docile schoolmarm a visit. Now.”

* * *

They brought backup with them, but Declan instructed the officers to stay back until he gave the order. If this
was
their killer, he didn’t want anything spooking her until they had her in their sights—preferably in custody, as well.

Driving up to the woman’s house, Declan parked Charley’s car at the curb. “You ready?” he asked Charley before he opened his door.

So ready that it was unbelievable, she thought. “Try and make me stay away,” she dared him.

“Not on your life,” he laughed grimly. “I know better than to get between you and something you’ve set your sights on.”

Together they approached the front door and rang the doorbell. When no one answered, Declan tried again. When there was
still
no answer, he knocked. Or, more accurately, he pounded.

“Mrs. Miller,” Declan called out. “Open the door. This is the Aurora P.D. We have a few more questions to ask you.”

The door finally opened and the tall, gray-haired, heavyset woman with the round, jovial face looked from Declan to Charley.

“I talked to you before,” she told them, as if that should be the end of it.

“Yes, you did,” Charley agreed brightly, doing her best to put the woman at ease. People could be tripped up more easily if they were at ease. “But we need to ask you a few more questions.”

“I’ve already told you everything I know about that poor officer,” Donna Miller protested.

Watching the woman’s face carefully, Charley said, “This is about your husband.”

Suspicion immediately entered the small, close-set brown eyes. “What about him?”

Charley had taken over this segment. Declan let her, hoping it would built up some sort of rapport. “We’re here to clear up a few things that we found on his record.”

The last of the smile faded from the woman’s face as she opened the door farther. “Come on in,” she said flatly.

When they did, the woman surprised them by suddenly grabbing Charley and pulling her over, using her as a human shield. Donna Miller had a small but lethal pistol in her hand that she’d pulled out of her skirt pocket. She pressed the muzzle against Charley’s temple, her intent very clear.

Declan instantly pulled out his own weapon, aiming it at the middle-school teacher.

“Drop your gun, Detective,” Donna Miller snapped. “Drop it or I’ll blow a hole in her head this minute.”

“You don’t want to do that,” Declan said, keeping his voice low, calm.

“Oh, but I do,” Mrs. Miller contradicted. “I want to blow a hole into every damn cop in this city. You killed my Howard and it’s only right that you pay for it. That you
all
pay for it. All he ever wanted was to be one of you,” she accused. “You took that away from him. He was so depressed, he killed himself. That was
your
fault,” she screamed wildly, then temporarily regained control over herself. “It’s only right that you pay for it. Now put your gun down—or watch her die right in front of you! Your choice,” she concluded malevolently.

“Don’t do it, Declan,” Charley cried, her eyes riveted to the weapon in his hand. “You put your gun down, she’ll kill us both.”

“You’re probably right,” he agreed. “But I can’t risk it.” His eyes shifted to the woman’s. “I’m putting it down,” he told her, slowly lowering his weapon. “Let her go.”

“God, but you
are
stupid,” Donna Miller laughed, shifting the muzzle away from Charley’s temple and pointing it straight at Declan. “You should have listened to your girlfriend here.”

Charley knew she had only a split second before the teacher fired. With a wild yell to throw the other woman off, Charley drove her elbow into the woman’s considerable rib cage as hard as she could.

A guttural scream of pain and anger pierced the air as the woman attacked Charley. They struggled for possession of the weapon amid a flood of curses the middle-school teacher heaped on her.

Declan ran to the fighting women, attempting to pull them apart. It was almost impossible at first, but he finally managed to pull the teacher off Charley at the same moment that Mrs. Miller’s pistol discharged.

The next moment, Declan wrenched the weapon away from her.

“Here, take this,” he told Charley, shoving the weapon into her hands. The next moment, before she could say anything to him, she watched in horror as Declan sank to his knees in front of her.

Blood was pouring out from his left side.

The teacher began to lunge toward her, wanting to seize her chance. Charley pointed the weapon at her. “One more move and I’ll shoot you dead right here.”

“You can’t do that, you’re a cop,” the teacher taunted.

“Want to bet your life on that one?” Charley challenged coldly. “Just take one more step.
Please
take one more step.”