Cavanaugh Hero (20 page)

Epilogue

“G
et that thing away from me, I’m not using a wheelchair,” Andrew declared, waving away the wheelchair that Brian brought into his hospital room.

It was time to go home. He had signed all the papers, jumped through all the hoops and was more than ready to leave the hospital behind him as quickly as was humanly possible.

But he was
not
going to do that leaving being pushed around in a wheelchair like some damn invalid, Andrew thought angrily.

It was the principle of the thing more than the fact that he felt in tip-top shape. Because he didn’t. The former Chief of Police still felt rather weak, certainly weaker than he would have either wanted or liked.

But he would be damned if he was going to let on or have anyone guess that at the moment, if he were challenged to a wrestling match by a two-month-old kitten, there was a fifty-fifty chance that the kitten might just win. As long as he took slow, steady steps and perhaps linked his arm cavalierly through Rose’s—as much for support as for emotional comfort—no one would suspect that he had seen far better days as far as his stamina and his strength went.

“It’s hospital policy, dear,” Rose told him in a low-key, soothing voice.

“I don’t care if it’s written on two tablets of stone, I’m leaving this place on my own power,” Andrew declared, glaring at the wheelchair.

“There are rules, Andrew,” Brian told him calmly. “You don’t want to set a bad example for the next generation by breaking rules, now, do you? Declan’s being released, too. He’s already out in the hallway, waiting for you.
He’s
sitting out there in a wheelchair.”

“Good for him,” Andrew grumbled, then threw up his hands. “Oh, okay,” he agreed, lowering himself into the hated chair in question. “Anything to get me out of here.”

“Knew you’d come around sooner or later,” Brian said with satisfaction. “Especially if we told you that Declan was following hospital protocol and was sitting in a wheelchair.”

“What do you mean ‘if’?” Andrew asked suspiciously.

“Same thing worked on Declan,” Rose told him as Brian wheeled her husband out of the room. “You Cavanaugh boys are so predictable—no offense, Brian.”

He laughed as he wheeled his brother out. “None taken.”

* * *

“What are all these cars doing out here?” Andrew asked as they approached his house.

“Sitting from the looks of it,” Brian answered innocently, bringing the CRV to a stop in Andrew’s driveway.

The poor joke didn’t fool or distract Andrew. There was only one reason why there would be so many cars parked along his street. Or why, he suddenly realized, whoever was driving Declan’s car had come here rather than gone on to Declan’s home.

“Don’t tell me that you’re throwing me a welcome home party,” Andrew said, looking more stunned than happy. He turned toward his wife. “I love you more each day, but you and I both know you can’t cook for more than five people at a time.”

“Which is why I had help,” Rose told him, unfazed by his display of doubt regarding her culinary abilities. “And just so you know, it takes five of us to replace one of you. Now let’s get you out of the car so you can say hi to your family.”

“You don’t have a damn wheelchair hiding someplace to spring on me, do you?” Andrew asked suspiciously, his eyes sweeping up and down along the street.

“Afraid not. Just my shoulder to lean on if you need to.” She got out and came around to his side of the vehicle.

Andrew got out more slowly than he was happy about. Even so, he knew he was lucky to be alive. “I can do that,” he told her with a flirtatious smile.

“Then let’s go. Oh, and by the way, that new branch of the family you tracked down for your dad just before you went and got shot, scaring the life out of me?”

“What about them?” he asked.

“They’re here. Sean drove over to the next town and invited them, too.”

Andrew nodded his approval as he made his way up the walk with steps smaller than he was happy about. “Shows a lot of promise, Sean does.”

* * *

“You sure you’re up to this?” Declan asked Charley as she pulled up her car beside Andrew’s. One of Andrew’s sons had made sure that there were two spaces directly in front of the house just for them so that neither man had to do very much walking. “We can turn around and go home.”

“And miss the chance of witnessing the great unveiling?” she scoffed. “Not likely.”

“Great unveiling?” he repeated, then asked, “What great unveiling?”

She waited for him to get out on his own, knowing what his pride was like. “Of more Cavanaughs, that branch Andrew tracked down and talked to just before he was shot.”

Declan laughed, shaking his head as he put his arm around her shoulders, silently accepting her help. “Just what the world needs. More Cavanaughs.”

“Yeah,” she agreed as they began the journey to Andrew’s front door, “it does.”

And very soon, she thought in delight, her grin widening, she was going to be part of them.

Life felt really, really wonderful.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from ARMED AND FAMOUS by Jennifer Morey.

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Chapter 1

S
oft clawing on the back patio door made
Lincoln Ivy put the steaming pan of cheesy chicken casserole down. Turning from
the stove, he saw Madeline’s paw lift for another series of attention-getting
noises.
Tap, tap, tap.
Toy hamburger in mouth, tail
wagging, nose smudging the glass and breath fogging the early-autumn air, her
sweet brown eyes zeroed in on him with unabashed excitement. Chuckling, Lincoln
walked to the door. She was a beautiful Labrador retriever. Show quality.

“Hey, there, girl,” he said in greeting after he opened the
door. The dog began squeaking her toy and bounding all around him. She squeaked
a tune using her jaws, her eyes playful and looking up at him.

He got in a pat on her head before she trotted over to the
pantry and sat, her white tail thumping the floor, whites of her eyes flashing
in an upturned plea and cheeks wrinkled around the burger.

“Yeah, you’re adorable.” He went to her and got a biscuit from
the pantry.

Madeline dropped the stuffed burger and chomped for the
treat.

“Be nice,” he admonished. “Don’t be such a pig.”

The tip of her tail wiggled faster.

“Nice.” He slowly brought the treat closer.

Madeline’s eyes blinked as though communicating her deep
gratitude as she gently took the biscuit. Then she hungrily crunched away. It
was devoured in seconds.

The gate next door was broken, and Madeline could open the
latch on his. Over the past couple months, her visits had been sporadic. But
this past week they had become an everyday occurrence. She wasn’t his dog. She
belonged to the mean lady next door.

Well, he used to think she was mean. A few things had changed
recently.

He crouched in front of the still-sitting dog. “You know, for
having such a troublemaker for an owner, you sure are a good girl.”

Madeline gave him one of her white paws and stretched her head
to lick him. He moved just in time to avoid a wet kiss on his mouth.

“Thanks, but you’re taken. I don’t cheat.”

He scratched her ears as his doorbell rang. Right on schedule.
Remy Lang was here to get her dog. Sighing, he stood and went to the door,
Madeline trotting beside him.

He opened the door. A siren of a redhead stood there with a
humble face framed by long, wavy hair. Beautiful face. He wasn’t sure if it was
just him or if everyone couldn’t stop staring at her whenever she came into
view. She was in light blue jeans and a Stanford University sweatshirt. No
makeup, but her striking green eyes didn’t need any.

“Uh...is Maddie here?”

She shifted from one foot to the other, stuffing her hands in
her pockets. Awkward. She’d been a bitch when he’d first met her. He’d gone over
to her house after he heard her fighting with a man. The man had hit her.
Lincoln had beaten him for it, and she’d been angry...
at
Lincoln.
Ever since then, she’d been uncomfortable in her own skin
around him. She never could get away fast enough. But he always sensed her
desire to blurt out an excuse for her behavior. And every time something stopped
her. Fear.

What was she so afraid of? He found himself wondering more and
more.

“Uh,” she stammered again, this time leaning to see around
him.

Madeline had gone into the kitchen and sat by the pantry
again.

He swung the door open wider. “Sorry. Why don’t you come in for
a while?” Maybe this time he’d get some information out of her.

“Maddie,” Remy called, stepping inside.

The dog stayed there, tail thumping, panting happily.

“Her name tag says Madeline.” This was the first time he’d
heard her call the dog by name. Until now, she’d only referred to Maddie as “my
dog,” and all she ever said were things like “sorry to have bothered you” to
him, or “come on” to her dog. Whenever he tried to talk to her, she always said
she “had to get going. Bye.” Awkward and embarrassed. Why had she been angry
with him for beating up the guy who’d hit her? She was afraid of that man, of
course, but Lincoln wanted to know the reason.

“I call her Maddie most of the time.” She bent and patted her
thigh, a long, lean thigh. “Come on, Maddie.”

“Do you want me to fix your gate?” he asked.

“No. Maddie!” she snapped, in a hurry to get away.

The dog’s ears slumped, and her eyes drooped. Getting Maddie
out of his house worked better when Remy waited on the front porch and he
brought the dog to her.

“Come here, girl,” Lincoln coaxed.

Maddie’s ears perked, and the smile returned to her face as she
trotted over to him.

Remy gaped at him with the hint of a smile. “What have you done
to my dog?”

Seeing her begin to relax, he patted Maddie. “She’s a great
dog.”

Remy crouched, and Maddie went to her, sitting before her with
that tiny wiggle of her tail and going in for a few licks. Remy sank her fingers
into the fur of her chest.

“Yeah, she is.” The soft smile that shaped her lips captivated
Lincoln.

When she looked up from Maddie’s love-drunk eyes, she caught
him staring at her. As her gaze took in his chest and arms and then returned to
his eyes, he burned.

“Ah...” She stood. “I should probably get going.”

Lincoln was a little disconcerted over his reaction, as well. A
familiar, old pain overtook him for a few seconds before he could control it,
hide it away where he always did, safely out of mind.

Remy didn’t move for the door. She seemed on the verge of
saying something that was hard for her to say. “I’ve...I’ve been meaning
to...apologize for the way we met.”

Finally. He waited for her to go on.

“Wade... That whole...thing...”

“Is he your boyfriend?” he asked.

“No!” she answered instantly and adamantly. “He’s...sort of a
friend.”

“Sort of?”

She waved her hands and then let them hang at her sides. “I
thought he was a friend when I first met him. He turned out to be something
else.”

Lincoln nodded. “Why did he hit you?”

“It’s complicated,” she said. “I don’t expect you to
understand.”

How could he when she wasn’t telling him anything? Did she have
something to hide? Or was she just embarrassed? The man wasn’t her boyfriend.
“Who is he?”

She waved her hands again, a poor disguise for her inner
turmoil. “Nobody. I just wanted to apologize, and also to thank you for what you
did. Even though it didn’t seem like I was appreciative, I was, okay?”

“Okay.” Had fear compelled her to retaliate against Lincoln
that day? She may have been afraid of what the man would have done had she not
taken his side. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. I’m
right next door.”

She smiled. “Yeah. I know.” She met his gaze awhile longer.

This was a lot different than the first time they’d met. And
the most they’d ever spoken.

An uncomfortable silence passed. She glanced down his body,
checking him out, and then grew serious.

Maddie nudged Lincoln’s hand, and he pet her head.

“Your leg is better,” Remy said.

The first time he’d met her he’d been on crutches. “Yes.”

“Did you break it?”

She hadn’t taken the time to ask before. She hadn’t taken the
time to make conversation at all. “No.” He hesitated, wondering if he should
say. “Actually, I was shot.”

She went a little still and then asked, “How? Why?”

He contemplated not telling her. But he wondered if he told
her, would she open up to him about the man named Wade? “A friend of mine got
into some trouble, and I got in the way.” He grinned. “I can’t seem to stay away
from trouble.”

She caught his meaning, that he’d gotten into her trouble.
“Must be some trouble.”

“At the risk of sounding like I played a role in an action
movie, my friend came to me for help, and things fell apart. My sister was here
at the time, and an arms dealer tried to kidnap her to use against my friend. I
was shot, and my friend saved my sister. The dealer’s in prison now.” He didn’t
get into the rest of the story, how Braden McCrae and Arizona had unraveled the
mystery, which had included the kidnapping of Braden’s sister and stepsister and
attempts to steal weapons technology from the company where Braden worked.

“An arms dealer, huh? What are you, some kind of Homeland
Security agent?”

“No. I teach martial arts.” He left out the other detail that
he was also a bail enforcement agent. He didn’t know why. It was just a feeling.
It was also something he didn’t really share with many people.

“I have a tough guy for a neighbor,” she teased, but he could
tell she liked it. He wasn’t a cop, but he wasn’t afraid of bad guys. He enjoyed
solving the mystery of tracking the fugitives and, even more, the satisfaction
of bringing them in.

“And who do
I
have for a neighbor?”
he deliberately asked.

Between them, Maddie sat patiently, her head moving from one to
the other as they spoke.

“I just got a job at a microchip corporation. I’m an HR
assistant.”

A human-resources assistant? He’d recently learned the house
next door was a rental. Where had she gotten the money to afford it? This wasn’t
the most expensive neighborhood in Denver, but it was pushing the million-dollar
mark. She may have gotten a deal on hers since it was in need of renovation, but
still. How much did an HR assistant make? It couldn’t be that much. Plus she had
a loaded Audi Q5 Prestige in her garage. Pricey for an HR assistant.

His curiosity grew. “Where did you move from?”

A flicker of reluctance crossed her pretty eyes. “California.
Near L.A.”

Vague. “What brought you here?”

The reluctance he’d seen was gone now, and in its place was a
brick wall. She shrugged. “I don’t have any family. It was time for a change.
I’ve always liked it here.”

“No family?” Not even a sister or an aunt?

“No.” Her head lowered. “My mother raised me, and I never knew
my dad. My mother died in a car accident a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You must have had a tough time.”

“I learned to take care of myself. Mom had life insurance. That
helped. I used some of it to go to college.”

College? Her eyes flashed to his when she realized her slip.
She hadn’t meant to tell him that. “I have an English degree. What can you do
with that, right?” She half laughed.

Although she quipped, he could see she was lying. “When did you
graduate?” He kept a light tone. People relaxed more when all they were doing
was answering harmless questions.

“Six years ago. You?”

“I didn’t go to college.”

“Just martial arts school, huh?”

“Yes. And I love to read.”

A firecracker of a smile burst on her face. “Me, too.
Biographies, mostly.”

Something in common. “Mysteries for me. Some nonfiction.”

“Do you have a family?”

She must know he did. She’d seen his mother stop by. The way
she asked said it was important to her. Family.

“I have a huge family,” he stated hesitantly. “There are eight
of us, and our parents live in California. Most of the time.”

“I see a limo drive up every once in a while.”

“That’s my mom. Dad sometimes comes with her.” He watched her
process that. His parents had money.

“Ivy.” She nodded. “I didn’t piece it together until now.” She
glanced around his house. “You live modestly for someone who has such wealthy
and well-known parents.”

She was completely guileless as she made the observation.
Nothing changed other than the wonder of discovery. She didn’t become
flirtatious as most women did, thinking they’d struck gold. He could recognize
the shift immediately. Flirting went into overdrive. Efforts to impress, to
latch on to him became nauseating. But not with this woman.

“What’s it like being the son of a famous movie producer?”

“I’m not the one who’s famous, so most of the time it’s like
being part of any other normal family.” And he preferred it that way. “The press
can get annoying.”

“I can’t imagine.” A moment passed, and they shared a look.
“Well. We should get going.” She looked down at Maddie, who still sat patiently.
“You’re never this good with me. What’s gotten into you?”

Maddie lifted her paw and rested it on her leg.

Remy laughed and shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind her
coming over here all the time. I haven’t been able to get someone over to fix my
gate.”

“Like I said, I could fix it for you, except then I wouldn’t
get visits from Maddie.” He pet the dog’s head, and she stood to come closer for
more attention.

Still smiling, Remy moved toward the door and patted her leg.
“Come on, Maddie. Ready for dinner?”

The promise of dinner brought Maddie following her out the
door.

His curiosity grew over his new neighbor. She didn’t have any
visitors and kept to herself. Lincoln was social with all the neighbors. They
all loved having him nearby and frequently invited him to barbecues and dinners
and holiday parties. Remy had too much to hide. At least it appeared that
way.

* * *

Remy Lang realized she was still smiling after she went
back to her house to feed Maddie. Drat. That wasn’t in the plan. She had too
much to lose to risk engaging in a relationship with a martial arts instructor.
Her neighbor. Her big, strong neighbor who’d come to her rescue. She had to
admit, having a man like that next door had made her feel safe. But it was
foolish to feel that way. She couldn’t share her past—particularly Wade Nelson’s
role in it—with anyone. Her survival depended on it.

Wade was not what she’d expected. When this all had started,
she’d thought she could depend on him to help her, but she could not. Since
then, she had taken matters into her own hands. She was close to resolving
everything. Soon, she’d have her life back. If Wade didn’t ruin it for her
first. He’d caught on to what she was doing, and now he was angry. That was why
he’d hit her. And Lincoln had seen it. That scared her more than anything. What
would Wade do? He knew too much about her. She’d trusted the wrong man. And now
Lincoln had gotten involved.