Free Cavanaugh Hero by Marie Ferrarella Page B

his phone out.
    Taking the opportunity to review a few things in her head, she gave Declan his space so he could talk to whomever was on the other end of his phone. Maybe even a girlfriend, calling to find out if she could expect him over tonight.
    Girlfriend.
    What if Matt had come home with someone from a bar? she wondered. If that was the case, would it have been a stranger, or someone he knew? He was—had been, she corrected herself, hating the fact that she had to—a friendly enough person, but sober, he kept most people at arm’s length. He wouldn’t have invited anyone back to his house—unless he was drunk and not thinking clearly.
    Or maybe he didn’t even know someone had followed him home and he had forgotten to lock the front door?
    She was accustomed to Matt being careful, but alcohol changed people, made them careless, sloppy and erased their memories or replaced them with ones that had never happened.
    The killer could have taken advantage of that.
    But why Matt? Was it personal, or just a matter of opportunity? Was Matt just a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?
    Or...?
    Damn it, all she had were questions with absolutely no idea how to get answers to any of them right now.
    You’re going to have to help me out here, Matt. Give me a clue, something to work with, she thought in frustration.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Declan returning his phone to his pocket as he turned around to face her. His expression was grim.
    She braced herself. “What is it?”
    “We just caught another one.”

Chapter 7
    “A nother one,” Charley repeated in an almost robotlike tone as comprehension of what the words meant eluded her—or maybe she just didn’t want to let it in. “Another what?” she asked him.
    “Body,” Declan said. “We just caught another body.”
    There was only one reason they’d be given a second murder so quickly on top of the one they were investigating, and yet, it just didn’t seem possible.
    “And it’s connected to Holt’s murder?” she asked, a doubtful note entering her voice.
    At this point, she was trying to figure out who could have hated her brother enough to kill him, and now, if what Declan was saying was true, it didn’t have to involve anything personal.
    Still, the idea that Matt’s murder and the murder of this latest victim were somehow connected didn’t seem quite right to her.
    Declan nodded grimly. “The killer had the same M.O.”
    “You’re kidding.” The words escaped her lips quickly.
    A half smile curved the corner of one side of Declan’s mouth. Despite the gravity of the situation and everything they’d had to deal with today, there was something almost boyishly appealing about the way he looked. Charley was annoyed with herself for noticing. Matt was dead and she was noticing a boyish smile. What was the matter with her?
    “Some people think I’m irreverent and don’t take things seriously enough, but I never kid when it comes to murder,” he told her.
    Charley pressed her lips together as she nodded, trying to take it all in and having trouble absorbing the information at the same time. “By ‘same M.O.’ you mean there was a note stapled to this victim’s chest, too?”
    Declan drew in a long breath before answering her. “Yes, and he was killed with a close-range, single shot to the chest. But there’s more.”
    “What kind of more?” Charley asked warily, trying to brace herself without knowing against what.
    “The victim was another cop,” he told her grimly.
    “Oh, God.” That was going to shake everyone in the police department, not to mention every relative of a law-enforcement agent, right down to their core. “So, you think that someone out there is deliberately targeting cops?”
    Declan hated saying it, but there was no use in burying his head in the sand. It wasn’t going to help catch the killer any faster, wasn’t going to stop the killings, either. He’d make book on it. “Looks like