Free The Strong Silent Type by Marie Ferrarella

point of view of the loner. And right now, it appeared that for all his gregariousness, Andrew Cavanaugh had assumed the role of the loner.
    “Maybe he had his reasons.” He looked at her pointedly. “And whatever they are, they don’t include you.”
    Her temper flared again. “Caring always includes me. That’s just how it is.”
    “He’s a big boy.” Because standing here in this small, recessed space in the hall with her was affecting him in a manner he didn’t welcome, Hawk backed out, signaling an end to the dialogue. Convincing Cavanaugh of something when she didn’t want to hear it was like trying to pour water into a stone. “When he’s ready for you to know, he’ll tell you. Meanwhile, don’t let it eat you up. You want to do some investigating, save it for the job.”
    Teri watched his back as he walked away from her. She frowned. Hawk was right. She didn’t want to give it to him, but he was. If her father was being secretive, it was for a reason. Most likely, he probably thought he was shielding them from something.
    For now she’d let the matter go. But not for long.
     
    Wilkins called later to say that none of the DNA evidence that had been collected from the any of the other four invasions matched the DNA of the two men they had in custody.
    “Damn.”
    It took effort not to slam down the phone. This latest dead end sapped away the last bit of her already-dwindling energy. Dragging a hand through her hair, Teri made up her mind. She knew she wasn’t going to be any good to the case unless she got away from it for a while.
    Hitting the right combination of keys, she shut offher computer. Her shift had been over for more than an hour. It was time to go home.
    “There’s no match.”
    Not raising his eyes from his work, Hawk said, “I gathered.”
    “I’m calling it a night.” Hawk barely nodded to acknowledge hearing the information. Ready to dash out, Teri lingered for a moment. Everyone else had already checked out for the night. She’d hung around waiting for Wilkins. God knew why Hawk was hanging around. “I’m stopping at the Shannon, want to come along?”
    Hawk looked up from his notes. Cavanaugh had invited him to the local police hangout a number of times and he’d never taken her up on it, preferring his own company and the soothing dim atmosphere of the bar near his studio apartment.
    To call Joe’s a dingy dive was being charitable. As far as drink or food went, the Shannon undoubtedly had it all over Joe’s. Still, the people who frequented Joe’s valued their anonymity and respected the same of others. He didn’t have to talk if he didn’t want to. That had always been a selling feature for him.
    “Got my own place to go.”
    It was a dismissal. But tonight, she didn’t feel like being dismissed. Coming around to his desk, she leaned over until she was almost in his face. “I owe you a drink for yesterday.”
    Because she was far too close into his comfort zone for him to think clearly, he pushed his chair back.Giving himself some breathing space. “You took my bullet. I’d say it was even.”
    “Damn it, Hawk, just come out for a drink with me.” Determined, Teri planted herself on his desk, blocking any view he had of the file he’d been studying. “I promise I won’t bite.”
    He looked at her for a long moment, remembering the short, blood-heating interlude in the car yesterday afternoon. Remembering the taste of her lips against his. Remembering, too, other things that had gone on. No, he wouldn’t say she didn’t bite. Or at the very least, she had a really big kick to her.
    Very slowly, what could have passed for a smile in some circles rose to his lips, curving them just a hint. “Can I have that in writing?”
    She caught his drift immediately. “If you mean yesterday, I wasn’t biting. That was called a kiss and you really do need to get out more.”
    So she’d already said. He had no idea what made him ask the next question. “Why? For