The first thing she saw was a tiny cross carved into the victim’s shoulder.
Just as there had been on Millie’s.
In his own twisted mind, was the killer sending his victims off to their maker marked for redemption? Was he some kind of religious zealot, or just messing with the collective mind of the people trying to capture him?
After a beat, she raised her eyes to Riley’s. “How long?”
Riley looked at her, confused. “How long what?”
Julianne moved the photographs away without looking down. “How long before you stopped seeing their lifeless faces in your sleep?”
Riley nodded. She knew exactly what the woman meant. “I’ll let you know when it happens,” Riley told her. And then she smiled. “The trick is to fill your life up so that there’s no time to think about them that way. And to find the killer,” she added with feeling, “so that they—and you—can rest in peace.” Riley glanced at her watch. It was after five. “Shift’s over. Would you like to go and get a drink?”
While she appreciated the offer, getting a drink held no allure for her. Her father had been an alcoholic, dead before his time. Her uncle, Mary’s father, while not an alcoholic, was a mean drunk when he did imbibe.
Julianne shook her head. “I don’t drink.”
“Doesn’t have to be alcohol,” Riley told her. “They serve ginger ale there. And coffee.” It was obvious that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer easily. “I just think you need to unwind a little. And it wouldn’t hurt to mingle,” she added. “Might make the rest of this experience tolerable for you.”
What would make the experience tolerable would be finally finding Mary, but, having kept everything to herself for most of her life, she wasn’t ready to share that just yet. For a moment, Julianne debated her answer. Turning Riley down would make her seem standoffish and she didn’t want to generate any hard feelings beyond the ones Frank seemed to be harboring.
“All right.” She rose, closing her desk drawer. “I’ll follow you.”
“Great.” Riley grinned, moving over to her desk to grab her purse. “I’ll drive slow.”
“No need. I can keep up,” Julianne told her.
Riley nodded. “I bet you can.”
Rafferty’s was more a tavern than an actual bar. While it was true that on most nights, members of the Aurora police force went there to unwind and shed some of their more haunting demons before going home to their families, the establishment just as readily welcomed spouses and their children. In many cases it was a home away from home for detectives and patrol officers alike.
And Rafferty’s was also where, on any given evening, at least several members of the Cavanaugh family could be found.
This particular evening there were more than a few Cavanaughs in the bar and Riley made a point of introducing Julianne to all of them, as well as her older brother, Zack.
“Taylor’s probably out on a date,” Riley told her matter-of-factly, carrying a mug of beer and an individual bottle of ginger ale over to the small table she’d staked out for the two of them as soon as they’d walked in.
Julianne took a seat, accepting the ginger ale. Riley had refused to let her pay. “Taylor?”
“My sister.” Riley sat down opposite her. “She’s the social butterfly of the family. Like Frank,” she tagged on as an afterthought. “Or he was until he got assigned to this case.”
After having met the man, it was hard for Julianne to picture Frank McIntyre as anything but solemn. Except for that one instance, he hadn’t smiled during the course of the day, not even when the smaller of the two detectives, Sanchez, had made a joke.
Keeping her observation to herself, Julianne scanned the crowded room. As she recognized faces, it struck her that she’d been introduced to more people than she’d realized.
“And you’re related to these people?” she asked Riley, slightly in awe as the fact sank in.
Riley nodded, taking a sip of her beer before answering. “Through marriage,” she qualified, although she’d gotten to know a great many of them from day-to-day interaction ever since she joined the police force. “My mother is married to the chief of detectives, Brian Cavanaugh. Real good guy,” she said with a wide, approving smile. Brian was the man her mother was meant to have married. He treated her far better than the man who had fathered all four of her children. Brian Cavanaugh was the man she herself had always pretended was her father, when times became rocky. “They used to be partners back when they were on patrol.”
Julianne looked at her in surprise. “Your mother was on the job, too?” This police department really was a family affair, she thought. It made her feel even more of an outsider than usual.
“Yes. Almost everyone I know is on the job,” Riley told her.
It was on the tip of Riley’s tongue to mention her late father, but since his career ended in disgrace, she decided not to go into something she didn’t really want to talk about. Besides, if Julianne remained on the task force long enough, she was pretty sure the woman would hear about it from one source or another. Facts had come to light not all that long ago about how her father had faked his own death and bided his time to come back for the money he’d stolen from drug runners. That wasn’t something to discuss with a stranger.
“My father made her quit the force after she was shot—”
“Shot?” Julianne echoed.
Riley nodded. The story was so much a part of her life, sometimes she forgot that not everyone knew about it. “While on the job. Brian saved her. Stopped the blood with his own hands and all but willed the life back into her as he waited for the paramedics.”
“I can see why your father wanted her to quit.”
He had pressured her mother to leave the force because he was jealous of Brian, not because he feared for her life, but Riley kept that to herself as well.
“Being off the force didn’t suit her. Being a law-en-forcement officer was in her blood so, once Frank was in high school, she got back into it. To keep peace in the family, she took a desk job, but she figured that was better than nothing.” She took another sip, then added, “I guess you just can’t keep a good cop down.”
Julianne heard the pride in Riley McIntyre’s voice and a trace of envy surfaced.
What was that like, she wondered, being proud of your parents? Of what they’d done and were doing, and the effect all that had on the lives of other people? She would have given anything to experience that.
But there was no sense in wishing. Those weren’t the cards that fate had dealt her and she’d already made her peace with that years back.
There’d been no other choice, really, except maybe to wind up the way her father had. But she absolutely refused to go down that road and let that happen. Pride wouldn’t allow her to.
“How’s it going?”
The deep, baritone voice asking the question came from behind her. Rather certain the question wasn’t directed at her, Julianne still turned around in her chair to see who was doing the asking. She found herself looking up at yet another law-enforcement officer. He wasn’t in uniform, but there was just an air about that man that fairly shouted: authority. He was older and had a kind, intelligent face, not to mention a handsome one. He also had the ability to take over a room the moment he entered.
She guessed his identity a second before he told her.
Smiling, Brian extended his hand to her. “Brian Cavanaugh,” he said easily, as if he was just another cop