Free Cavanaugh’s Woman by Marie Ferrarella

argue with her. She’d just infuriate him. Shaw blew out a breath, trying to collect himself.
    “Where did you learn to do that?” Reese asked, admiration in his voice.
    She knew he was referring to hot-wiring. Her father had taught both her and her sister how. It was something he thought might be useful to them someday. He’d only stolen one car during his career. It had belonged to a man who’d gotten rich off the misfortune of others. Her father had called it “payback.” Eventually, the car had been donated to a charity.
    “Research,” she lied. Moira exchanged looks with Shaw. It became evident to him that although she’d told him about her father and the life they’d led in the shadow of the wrong side of the law, it seemed to be something that she didn’t want to become common knowledge.
    Or maybe she’d put him on this morning and what she’d just told Reese was the truth. Maybe she’d been so busy pretending that she no longer knew what was true and what wasn’t.
    None of which mattered to him.
    All that mattered was that he had to get this shapely, attractive monkey off his back and the sooner he did that, the better.
    “So, are you going to interrogate him?” she asked. When he made no answer, she tried again. “C’mon, Cavanaugh, I didn’t hurt the car.”
    “That’s not the point. You could have gotten hurt—”
    “Ah, you care.”
    He glared at her. “About the city getting sued because you want to play cops and robbers—yes, I care.”
    She seemed to accept his explanation. “Don’t worry. I already signed a disclaimer. I get hurt—nobody’s liable but me.”
    Somehow, that didn’t seem to comfort him the way he thought it should.

Chapter Six
    “Y ou probably won’t let me in there with you, will you?”
    Moira looked from Shaw to Reese, knowing it was a dead issue.
    Though he and Reese were partners, Shaw was definitely the leader here, and she knew he would never bend the rules to allow her inside the interrogation room while they questioned Ramsey Jenkins, the porno shop owner she’d helped capture.
    Shaw tossed his jacket over the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves. It was hot inside the precinct and it would get a lot hotter in the room where the suspect was being kept. “Give the lady a prize, Reese. She guessed the right answer.”
    Reese bit his lower lip as Moira looked at him again. “Cavanaugh…?”
    “No.” The answer was firm and nonnegotiable.
    “Don’t you have a little room behind the one you use for interrogations? You know, one of those places with a one-way mirror? So I can see but not be seen?” she tacked on hopefully. “I’m not some police groupie, Shaw. I need to study your technique.” She glanced toward Reese for backup. She wasn’t disappointed.
    “C’mon, Cavanaugh. What’s the harm in letting her watch?”
    Shaw gave him a dirty look. He didn’t like being observed, didn’t like anything about this overall assignment, but he knew he was on the losing side. She’d probably go to the chief, and that was the last thing he wanted.
    He looked down at her. “Okay, but no tapping on the window, no sudden movements, no indication that you’re there. Understand?”
    She held up her hand, as if she was taking an oath. “I won’t even breathe.”
    “That,” he muttered under his breath, “is too much to hope for.”
    “C’mon,” Reese urged, beckoning to her. “I’ll show you where to go.”
    The look on Shaw’s face, she noticed, indicated that he would have liked to tell her exactly where to go. She hurried after Reese.

    Moira stood, fascinated, as she watched Shaw patiently, quietly, firmly grill the porno shop owner. It wasn’t like in the movies. She wasn’t sure just what she’d expected. Maybe a game of good cop–bad cop, or maybe she’d thought that Shaw would flex his prowess over the man, threaten him with bodily harm then give him just enough of a taste of it to have him babbling out the