Cavanaugh Justice--Detecting a Killer


 
 
 
 “Look, I know you have serial killers back in Southern California. They’re not exclusive to New York City,” Doyle said.
 “I know that,” Cassandra answered.
 “Then I don’t get it. Why are you so excited about this case?” 
 “First, it answers questions about what happened to our long-lost cousin, and second, there are endless possibilities regarding who the other victims were and why they were killed. Maybe we can find out what it was that they had in common that might have led to their demise.”
 “In other words, we resort to the usual.” 
 “The ‘usual’?” Cassandra questioned. 
 “Yes. Working hard, putting in long hours and juggling a ton of unanswered questions.” 
 Cassandra shook her head. There was a depressing, hopeless note to Doyle’s voice. “Oh, Detective, you have to be more positive than that.” 
 “This is me being positive.” 
 She stared at him in silence for a moment, and then surprised him as she began to laugh in response to his comment. 
 “If you say so,” Cassandra said.
 
 
 Dear Reader,
 Here we are again at long last. Since we were last together, I came down with Long COVID—twice. For those of you who are lucky enough not to be acquainted with that version of the disease, at its height, it came very close to wiping out my mind. I have been writing stories since I was eleven years old, but for the first time in more years than I care to admit to, I found myself unable to write an actual sentence. Needless to say, I was panic-stricken. It was several weeks before I was able to concentrate enough in order to write absolutely anything, much less a book.
 But I am back now, complete with a brand-new granddaughter (to go with my adorable two-year-old grandson), and I have returned to finally pick up the thread of another Cavanaugh story, complete with a serial killer. The story is set in New York City, my old stomping grounds. It is discovered that one of the Cavanaughs disappeared here when his divorced mother brought him to New York City from his initial home in Southern California.
 Confused? I promise it’ll all clear up by the time you finish reading the book.
 As always, I thank you for reading one of my books (now more than ever) and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
 With affection,
 Marie Ferrarella
 
 
 CAVANAUGH JUSTICE:DETECTING A KILLER
 Marie Ferrarella
 
 
 
 USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author Marie Ferrarella has written more than three hundred books for Harlequin, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, marieferrarella.com.
 Books by Marie Ferrarella
 Harlequin Romantic Suspense
 Cavanaugh Justice
 Cavanaugh Vanguard
 Cavanaugh Cowboy
 Cavanaugh’s Missing Person
 Cavanaugh Stakeout
 Cavanaugh in Plain Sight
 Cavanaugh Justice: The Baby Trail
 Cavanaugh Justice: Serial Affair
 Cavanaugh Justice: Deadly Chase
 Cavanaugh Justice: Up Close and Deadly
 Cavanaugh Justice: Detecting a Killer
 The Coltons of New York
 Colton’s Unusual Suspect
 Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
 
 
 To
 Autumn Marceline Ferrarella
 Welcome to the world, Little One
 Love,
 G-Mama
 
 
 Contents
 Prologue
 Chapter 1
 Chapter 2
 Chapter 3
 Chapter 4
 Chapter 5
 Chapter 6
 Chapter 7
 Chapter 8
 Chapter 9
 Chapter 10
 Chapter 11
 Chapter 12
 Chapter 13
 Chapter 14
 Chapter 15
 Chapter 16
 Chapter 17
 Chapter 18
 Chapter 19
 Chapter 20
 Chapter 21
 Chapter 22
 Excerpt from Hotshot Hero in Disguise by Lisa Childs
 
 
 Prologue
 Andrew Cavanaugh, the former police chief of Aurora, California, was finally about to sit down at the dining room table opposite his wife, Rose. He had just finished preparing a late supper for them, and for once, they were alone. It was a rare occurrence, given the numerous members in their family.
 And just when he was about to pull out his chair, the doorbell rang.
 Rose looked at her husband quizzically. He had already told her that they were going to be alone for a change. “Are you expecting anyone, Andy?”
 It was meant as a tongue-in-cheek question, seeing as how there was hardly ever a time when they—especially Andrew—weren’t expecting someone to drop by. The standing joke was that their home saw so much foot traffic, it could have easily doubled as Grand Central Station.
 “I thought we were supposed to be alone tonight,” Andrew replied. Resigned, the former chief of police made his way toward the front door.
 He moved like a much younger man, Rose caught herself thinking with no small amount of pride and not for the first time. Even after so many years together, she considered herself blessed. They’d been in lockstep from the beginning, finishing each other’s sentences and acting on the same thought. If he went in another room, eventually she’d find him. Always together and happy in the other’s company. Well, except for one long period when she’d lost her way and forgotten how to get home. But Andrew never let go, thank God.
 Leaving her napkin on her plate, she followed directly behind her husband, curious. One of their younger relatives must be paying a surprise visit or, more likely, was in search of a home-cooked meal.
 When she reached him, Andrew had already looked through the peephole and was in the process of unlocking the front door.
 His father, Seamus Cavanaugh, the former chief of the Aurora Police Department and official family patriarch, was standing on the other side of the door. Seamus’s usual deep, warm smile was conspicuously missing. In its place was a look of deep concern.
 “C’mon in, Pop,” Andrew said, closing the front door behind the gray-haired man. When he turned to regard the older man, he felt he had a cause for concern. “I know that look, Pop. What’s up?”
 To his surprise—because his father loved to talk about everything and