Free Cavanaugh on Duty by Marie Ferrarella Page A

in general. “Like did you hear him arguing with anyone? Did he look upset in the last week or so?”
    He raised and lowered his shoulders in a vague, dismissive manner. “I only saw him maybe a couple of times.”
    “Recently?” Esteban growled out the word, issuing it like a challenge.
    “N-no,” Jennings stammered, clearly uncomfortable when Esteban addressed him. The manager thought for a moment, then said, “He paid his bill on time and never gave me any trouble.”
    She supposed that was something—or a non- something. Nonetheless, she said thank-you as she took out one of her business cards. “If you do happen to think of something else, you can reach me at this number.” She placed the card on his desk.
    Jennings picked it up and looked down at the number imprinted on the face of the off-white business card. “If I call this number, I’ll just get you?” he asked, raising one eyebrow as he looked up at her.
    There was no way she was going to have the man thinking this was about anything but the murder. “That’s the precinct number for both of us,” she informed him in a clipped voice.
    “Oh.” Suddenly disinterested, Jennings tossed the card onto the side of the desk just as they began to walk out.
    “Looks like you just blew your chances for a date,” Esteban quipped. The smallest hint of a grin accompanied his wry observation.
    Kari narrowed her eyes at him as she banked down her surprise. “You have a sense of humor. Reassuring,” she commented. “As for your remark, I’d rather eat dirt.”
    If he was going to comment on her unappetizing choice of entrée, the words died unspoken as both he and Kari saw the Aurora Police Department’s white CSI van pull up onto the storage facility’s grounds.
    “That way,” Kari called out to the driver, who was none other than her father. She pointed in the general direction of Reynolds’s storage unit.
    Rather than say anything, Sean Cavanaugh briefly stuck his hand out the driver’s-side window and gave a quick wave in response before continuing on his way. Kari followed quickly behind the vehicle.
    She didn’t bother looking over her shoulder to see if Fernandez had opted to wait for her in the car or to follow her lead.
    Now that the scene was going to be thoroughly documented, she wanted to get at the body wrapped up in the rug. There could be something on the torso that could help them figure out who killed Reynolds and why.
    Sean Cavanaugh and his two investigators were already inside the storage unit when she reached it. The sound of cameras clicking, freezing the crime scene in time, greeted her as she walked in.
    One thing struck her immediately. The smell was just as appalling the second time around as it had been the first.
    “Drumming up business for my department?” her father asked as he snapped another picture of the rug and the victim within it.
    “Actually, I thought I’d make my new partner’s first day on the job an unforgettable one,” she jested.
    “New partner,” Sean repeated. This was the first he’d heard about Kari getting someone new to work with. “That would be you?” he asked, looking over his daughter’s head at the tall and striking dark-haired man who was half a step behind her.
    Kari turned around. Damn, but he was incredibly quiet, she thought for a second time. He didn’t seem to make a sound when he moved. If he stayed on, she might have to give serious consideration to getting him a bell to wear around his neck.
    “So you did decide to come along,” she murmured.
    Esteban ignored her for the time being, looking instead at the man who’d asked him a question.
    “Detective Esteban Fernandez,” he said, extending his hand to the man he assumed was the supervisor of the CSI day crew. He had a very authoritative manner about him that lent itself well to the position.
    “Sean Cavanaugh,” Sean introduced himself, taking the offered hand in his.
    The younger man had a good, solid handshake, Sean