Marie Ferrarella - Cavanaugh Encounter

“I guess then it’s settled,” Luke said. “Lunch it is.”

But as the other two detectives began opening their doors to get into the vehicle, Frankie held up her hand. “One minute, please,” she said, ignoring the impatient look on O’Bannon’s handsome face. “I just want to check on Mrs. O’Keefe one more time before we leave.”

“Why?” Luke asked, but she had already hurried back to the front door.

“She really does seem to be pretty compassionate,” White Hawk commented, watching the detective disappear into Mrs. O’Keefe’s house.

“Either that,” Luke replied thoughtfully, “or she relates to the woman’s grief.”

Curious, White Hawk asked his partner, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m not really sure yet,” Luke answered truthfully. “But you’ll be the first to know if something occurs to me.”

White Hawk snorted as he gave Luke a pointed look. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Inside the house, Frankie found Mrs. O’Keefe in the living room, exactly where they had left her. She handed the woman her card.

Accepting it, Mrs. O’Keefe gazed at her.

“It’s my card,” Frankie explained. Turning the card over for the woman, she pointed out, “That’s my cell phone number on the back. If you need anything—anything at all—give me a call. Any time,” Frankie emphasized. “Day or night.”

Holding the card in her hand, Mrs. O’Keefe made a dismissive motion. “Thank you, but I already told you, my sister’s coming to stay with me.”

“I know. But sometimes, you need someone to listen who isn’t family.” Frankie smiled sympathetically at the woman. “Who won’t bring up old flaws. And,” she added, “you can use that number in case you think of anything that might be useful to our investigation.”

Folding her hand over the card, Mrs. O’Keefe tucked it into her pocket.

Just as Frankie was about to say goodbye and leave, Mrs. O’Keefe took her hands in hers and held them fast. When Frankie looked at her quizzically, the woman said fiercely, “Promise me. Promise me you’ll catch the miserable bastard who did this to my little girl. I’m counting on you,” she said with feeling, then, looking into her eyes, the woman added with a knowing expression, “You understand.”

There was a bond between the two of them, she could feel it. Somehow, the woman knew. Frankie nodded her head.

“I promise, Mrs. O’Keefe,” she told her with sincerity.

Taking a breath, the woman released her hands. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The simple words continued to echo in her head as Frankie hurried back to the two men she’d left outside, standing by O’Bannon’s vehicle.

“Hey, everything okay?” Luke asked her when she rejoined them.

Frankie opened the rear passenger door and took the seat behind the front passenger one. “As okay as they can be for that poor woman,” she said evasively.

“No, I mean with you,” Luke said deliberately, getting in behind the car’s steering wheel. The fact that she had taken a seat in the back of the car wasn’t lost on him.

Was she afraid of being scrutinized? Or was there something more?

“Just dandy,” she told O’Bannon with a false cheerful note. The next second, she changed the subject. “You two decide where we’re going for lunch?”

Luke blew out a breath. For now, he let the other matter drop, even though he knew something was definitely bothering the newest member of the team. Instead, he went on to answer her question.

Sort of.

“Well, White Hawk here says he wants burgers. I like Thai food. We thought we’d leave it up to you,” Luke told her. “You can be the tiebreaker.”

“Well, I vote for pizza,” she told them.

“So much for a tiebreaker.” White Hawk laughed.

“Great, a stalemate,” Luke said with a huff. And then he shrugged, exhibiting what his uncle Andrew referred to as grace under fire.

“Okay, since you’re the newbie,” he told her, “we’ll let you pick the place. Pizza it is.”

He turned left at the next corner, heading toward a restaurant that, in his opinion, served the best pizza in the area.

“What did you have to say to Mrs. O’Keefe?” he asked casually.

“Nothing, really.” She met his eyes in the rearview mirror and knew that the man wasn’t about to let the matter go at that. “I just gave her my card and told her to call me in case she thought of anything she might have forgotten.” She debated adding the next part, then decided to do it in case O’Bannon thought she was holding something back. “And then she asked me to promise that we would catch the bastard responsible for her daughter’s murder.”

“And did you?” Luke asked.

She paused, anticipating a lecture. But she wasn’t about to lie, either. “Yes, I did. But I said that I promised. I didn’t include either one of you in the promise.”

“Want to hog all the glory yourself, is that it?” Luke deadpanned.

“No,” she protested. “I just didn’t think that you’d appreciate my making any promises in your name,” she told him.

“He’s just yanking your chain, DeMarco,” White Hawk told her. “And as for making promises, I’ve heard him say the same thing to the grieving relatives of other victims. It’s hard to walk away, indifferent, in the face of that kind of gut-wrenching grief. You did what you had to, newbie. It’s not just protect and serve,” he told her. “Sometimes that includes comfort, too. Consider it all part of the job description.”

“Is that what he believes?” she asked White Hawk, nodding at O’Bannon.

“Yeah,” the detective assured her. “Even if he doesn’t say it. Trust me,” he added.

“And me without my violin,” Luke murmured sarcastically.

Frankie merely shook her head. The sooner they found the killer, the sooner she’d be able to get back to her own department.

Chapter 5

“Hey,” Luke said suddenly, directing the question to the woman sitting directly behind him as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not one of those people who insist on having vegetables on their pizza instead of cheese, are you?”

The idea was abhorrent to her, but the tone of O’Bannon’s voice was challenging and she wasn’t one to just submissively allow a challenge to go unanswered. “And if I was?”

His answered surprised her. “Then we’d have to go someplace else, because the place I’m taking us to doesn’t serve that kind of pizza.”

Since he was being so nice about it, Frankie decided to let the matter drop rather than drag it out a little longer.

“Well, luckily for all of us,” she said, “I like my pizza the traditional way—lots of cheese, pepperoni and super-thin crust.”

“Wow,” Luke responded. “Finally something we can agree on.”

“Probably the only thing we can agree on,” she murmured under her breath. She didn’t think he heard her, but he did.

Luke stopped at the light and glanced over his shoulder at her for a moment. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we’ll find something else eventually.”

She had no idea why the way he looked at her—even though it was only for a split second—sent such a hot shiver zigzagging up her spin.

Almost in self defense, she told him, “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

She expected a sarcastic retort from O’Bannon. Instead, he made no response whatsoever—which wound up unsettling her even more.

The pizzeria he was taking them to was just around the corner on the next block. It was in the middle of what had once been a thriving strip mall but the stores on either side of Gino’s had changed hands several times and the stores on either side of those stores stood empty, with For Lease signs prominently displayed in their windows.