Cavanaugh's Surrender. Marie Ferrarella
“I’ll be fine.”
Destiny could see that Logan was waiting for her to convince him. “I don’t have any other choice. Paula’s killer is out there somewhere and I intend to catch him. I can’t do that if I fall apart.”
“No, you can’t,” he agreed. “But if you need someone to talk to—or not talk to,” he added with a smile that was beginning to weave its way under her skin even though she was doing her best to ignore it, “I’m available.”
“You’re a good guy, Logan Cavanaugh,” she told him quietly just before she impulsively brushed her lips against his cheek.
Logan felt something within his gut tighten so quickly and so hard, for a second it was difficult for him to draw in a breath.
Every fiber of his being wanted to pull her into his arms and to kiss her back. The right way. And he had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t get any resistance from her.
But that would be taking unfair advantage of her vulnerable state. Their time would come—he was fairly certain of that. But not tonight.
Dear Reader,
You are holding in your hands the latest book in the CAVANAUGH JUSTICE series. Logan Cavanaugh is another one of Sean Cavanaugh’s (aka Cavelli) sons. A free spirit who takes just about everything in stride, Logan finds his laid-back attitude challenged when he is temporarily paired with Destiny Richardson, his father’s chief assistant in the crime lab. She also just happens to be the sister of what appears to be a serial killer’s latest victim.
The latter designation has yet to come to light since the murders are all staged to appear like suicides—except that Destiny is positive that her younger sister would have never committed suicide, and she is prepared to go to hell and back to prove it. Logan, the primary investigative detective on what started out as an open-and-shut case, has no choice but to follow Destiny in order to keep her safe. But who is going to keep each of them safe from one another?
I hope you enjoy this latest installment. As ever, I thank you for reading and from the bottom of my heart I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
Marie Ferrarella
About the Author
MARIE FERRARELLA, a USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award-winning author, has written more than two hundred books for Mills & Boon, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com
Cavanaugh’s Surrender
Marie Ferrarella
To
Sumay Li,
who is a joy to know
Prologue
“Paula, I’m letting myself in with the key you gave me,” Destiny Richardson called loudly as she stepped over the threshold into her younger sister’s apartment. “It’s Destiny, the sister you’ve been ignoring lately.”
Again, she added silently.
She and Paula, her junior by a little more than three years, had finally gotten to a point in their relationship where they were getting along again. Where everything out of her mouth didn’t get Paula’s back up and mark the beginning of yet another prolonged argument that ended up with Paula not speaking to her for weeks at a time. That, mercifully, was now all behind them.
And then, for the past six weeks, it was as if Paula had stepped into a parallel universe. She was available only for a glimmer of time and then she’d disappear again. In between she’d return phone calls late and break lunch dates at the last minute.
Destiny had ridden it out for a couple of weeks, then finally asked her sister if this change in behavior was because of a man. Reluctantly—although she was glowing at the time—Paula had admitted that there was a new man in her life. But she wouldn’t say any more, not even what his name was.
“Not yet, Des,” she’d confided. “I don’t want to jinx anything.” Her eyes had all but danced as she’d added with a big grin, “He’s just too good to be true.”
Paula believed in the old adage that if something was too good to be true, it usually was too good to be true. But she’d bitten her tongue and said nothing, not wanting to jeopardize this new, improved relationship between her sister and her. It felt good to have Paula as a friend again, so she’d done her best to tread lightly and make no demands even though her gut had warned her that there was a problem.
She hated it when she was right in cases like this.
This morning, she’d gotten a text from Paula. It said simply: He left me. Thinking a few choice names directed at the man she’d never met, she’d called her sister almost immediately—and got no answer.
During the course of the day, she’d tried over and over again to reach Paula, using every single phone number associated with her sister. Home, work, cell, all with the same results. Paula wasn’t picking up.
So, right after work, convinced that Paula was taking this breakup incredibly hard, she’d come to her sister’s apartment and used the key Paula had given her for the very first time. She just wanted to make sure that her sister was all right.
She looked around now. Every single light in the upscale, two-bedroom apartment was on.
“You better be home, kid,” she called out, still addressing her words to the air. “Otherwise you’re making the electric company very rich for no reason.”
This was typical Paula, though. Her sister had a habit of turning on all the lights whenever she was depressed. She claimed it helped chase away the hopelessness she felt.
“Paula, where are you?” Destiny called, growing just a bit worried. Her mysterious “perfect” lover must have done a real number on her if Paula was too depressed even to answer her. “He’s not worth it, you know,” she said, making her way through the apartment. “Not worth being this upset over.” She walked into Paula’s bedroom. “If he could leave you just like that, you’re better off without him. He doesn’t sound very stable to me. He—”
For just half a second, Destiny froze in the doorway between the master bedroom and the lavishly remodeled bathroom.
Her heart stopped.
She’d found Paula.
“Oh, my God, Paula! Paula, what have you done?” she cried, racing into the bathroom.
The water in the bathtub had overflowed and spread out onto the tiled floor. The red tinge discolored everything. Her sister was immersed in the tub, and the water was red with her blood.
Paula’s wrists were slashed.
Destiny Richardson had spent the past six years diligently working in the crime lab, at first part-time while she went to college and earned her degree in criminology, then, after graduation, full-time. From the very beginning, she had constantly gone the extra mile, putting in longer hours whenever she had a case.
In short order, she impressed Sean Cavanaugh, the man in charge of the crime lab’s day shift. He promoted her to his chief assistant.
The first cardinal rule for a crime scene investigator was not to move or touch anything. But she wasn’t a crime scene investigator tonight. She was Paula’s sister, and she desperately wanted to save her.
But even as she grabbed her sister, ready to pull Paula out of the discolored water and perform CPR to try to save