He’d even turned down a slice of the three-layer cake she’d had brought in from Amos’s favorite bakery. Detectives from several other departments had turned up for the going-away party, but Durant had deliberately isolated himself from it and then promptly disappeared at the very height of the celebration.
Brian nodded at her response. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “That’s also, in part, why I called you in as well, Durant,” he said, this time directing his words to the solemn detective. “Captain Collins,” he went on, citing the head of the robbery division, “told me that your current partner requested to either have a new partner assigned to him or to be transferred out of Robbery and into another division entirely. According to him, he didn’t care which it was, as long as it didn’t involve you.”
Brian paused as if he was waiting for his words to sink in.
“How many partners does that make, detective?” he asked the younger man.
“Three,” Kane replied in a voice that gave no indication if it bothered him in the slightest that his partners all had sought to get away from him.
“Since you were assigned to Robbery,” Brian agreed, nodding his head. “And how many partners before that?”
“Two,” Kane replied, again without hesitation.
“Three,” Brian corrected.
“Technically, Rawlins didn’t request a transfer,” Kane said, his voice devoid of emotion. “He was shot and decided he wanted to pursue a different career.” It was highly likely that had that not happened, the man would have requested a transfer, but Kane assumed the chief was dealing in facts, not conjecture.
Brian inclined his head as if willing to go with the younger man’s version of the circumstances.
“I’ll accept that,” Brian allowed. And then he got down to the heart of the meeting he had called. “You’re a good, reliable detective who is outstanding at his job,” he acknowledged. “At the same time, unfortunately, getting along with people doesn’t exactly seem to be your strong suit, Detective Durant.”
Kane didn’t waste his breath by denying the chief’s observation. There was no point, especially since what the chief said was essentially true.
“I do better on my own, sir,” Kane replied quietly.
“You may think that,” Brian allowed. “But no one does better alone.” He said the words like a man who was firmly convinced in his stand. He left no room for either argument or speculation. “You need a partner to pick up on things you might have missed, to watch your back and,” he continued, looking at Kane pointedly, “to keep you grounded.”
The last thing he needed was someone grounding him. To Kane that was just another way of saying “interfering.” He didn’t like being interfered with.
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t need someone yapping at my heels, telling me what they think I’m doing wrong,” Kane told the chief. Cavanaugh was a fair and reasonable man. There had to be a way to get the chief to agree to let him go solo.
“Agreed,” Brian replied genially. Then amusement curved the corners of his mouth. “Which is exactly why I’m not assigning you to partner with one of the department’s German shepherds.”
Brian leaned back in his chair and gestured first toward Kane, then toward his grandniece whose performance was at times a little bit unorthodox. But by all counts she was both professional and tenacious—and she got results, which was what he was ultimately shooting for.
He smiled at her now, just before saying, “Detective Kane Durant, meet your new partner, Detective Kelly Cavanaugh.”
Durant’s expression never changed, Kelly observed, but she thought she saw a flicker—just for a moment—in the other man’s eyes that told her the thirty-two-year-old detective was far from happy about this newest coupling that was taking place.
“I’m not an unreasonable man,” Brian went on to say. “If this partnership isn’t working for either one of you after, say, a couple of months, you can request a reassignment and I’ll consider the matter. Nothing is written in stone,” the chief went on to assure the duo.
“But before either one of you decides to make that request, I want you to give this partnership a decent try.” He emphasized the words decent try. “Remember, nothing worth keeping comes easy. The rewards that are the sweetest are those that are hard-won.” Deep green eyes swept over both detectives, one at a time. “Do I make myself clear?” he asked.
“Perfectly,” Kelly replied with all but unbridled enthusiasm.
“Yes, sir,” Kane said. His low-key voice was all but flat.
Satisfied, Brian nodded. “Good. Now good luck—and goodbye,” he added. Just like that the meeting was over.
Kane lost no time leaving the chief’s office. Walking briskly through the outer office, he headed straight for the elevators.
Kelly found she had to lengthen her stride to keep up with her new partner. The latter gave absolutely no indication he wanted her to catch up.
He certainly wasn’t willing to slow down long enough for her to accomplish that small thing.
Too bad , she thought, lengthening her stride with determination.
Kelly arrived at the elevators just after her new partner did.
The man was going to take some getting used to. Right now, he seemed to be all blustery, like a bull confined in the proverbial china shop. He couldn’t seem to turn around without knocking something down and breaking it.
The worst part, she thought, was that he was aware of what he was doing—and not even the most subtle display of remorse was forthcoming from the man. There was obviously a good reason for that—he was feeling no remorse. Or, if by some chance he actually was, he was exceedingly careful not to show it.
He wasn’t like the other detectives. Something had made him different. It was up to her to make different synonymous with extra capable. Her granduncle saw qualities in this man, she could tell. She’d heard that Brian Cavanaugh had never been wrong when it came to doing what was best for his police force.
Although she was somewhat skeptical about this particular arrangement working out, Kelly decided she was just going to have to proceed on faith.
“How do you want to do this?” she asked her new partner brightly, breaking what was beginning to feel like an ironclad silence. Kane had given absolutely no indication he would say anything if she didn’t prod him into it.
“‘This’?” Kane echoed. The elevator arrived and he stepped inside. He noted how she seemed almost to hop in, claiming the space directly next to him.
Terrific, the chief had assigned him to partner up with a rabbit, Kane thought darkly. A chipper, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed rabbit.
The idea did not inspire him.
“Yes,” she confirmed. After almost a minute went by, she realized that her new partner didn’t have a clue what she was referring to. So she elaborated. “You have your desk and I have mine,” she pointed out.
“So? Is this where you tell me something informative about desks?” he asked with more than a touch of impatience in his voice.
“So one of us has to make a move. Amos cleared his desk out before he left,” she told him, hoping that Muhammad would opt to come to the mountain rather than deal with the mountain coming to him. “Your partner did the same when he transferred out of Robbery and into Vice,” she concluded.
Kane looked at her sharply. Just how closely had this eager little beaver been paying attention? His most recent partner, Woodward, had abruptly just picked up and left. Since the chief of ds had known all about it, Kane assumed Woodward had left with the man’s blessings—his didn’t count, even though he’d made no secret that he was glad to be rid of the man. Until just now, he’d had no idea where the detective had gone, nor had he cared, as long as it was away from him.
Читать дальше