Matt stared at her. This was a new twist. “Are you asking me if I’m passionate?”

Although the thought amused him, he just didn’t see Kendra putting that sort of question to him. It didn’t jibe with her personality—at least, not the way he perceived it.

Was he wrong? And if so, about what, exactly? Less than twenty-four hours in the woman’s company and she was becoming one huge, intriguing enigma. A puzzle he found himself wanting to solve.

“No,” she contradicted, a flash of embarrassment over the misunderstanding sending heat up her neck to her cheeks—as did the unbidden thought of his being passionate. “What I’m asking you is if your fellow co-workers know the first thing about what makes Matt Abilene tick,” she asked. “Or do they know only what you want them to know?”

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to the Cavanaughs. We continue to explore this latest branch that has recently come to light. This time, we peek into the life of Kendra Cavelli aka Cavanaugh, who, when her fiancé dies, distances herself from personal relationships, avoiding them like the plague.

For his part, her new partner, Matt Abilene, liked relationships just fine. The more, the merrier—and the lighter, the better. He’d learned to keep any sort of commitment out of the picture by watching the way his mother, desperate for someone to love, had been taken advantage of over and over again. He wanted to keep her safe and swore to himself that he would never follow in her footsteps.

But love, Kendra and Matt come to learn, is a very hard thing to shut the door on when it comes knocking. Come watch it unfold with me.

As ever, I thank you for reading and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.

All the best,

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

Rules

Marie Ferrarella

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To Nik

Hearts really do heal,

If you let them

Chapter 1

Detective Kendra Cavelli remembered reading somewhere that life was a series of leavings. At the time, she’d thought this was a very pessimistic point of view. But, she realized now, she’d been a lot younger and full of hope then.

Granted, no one would consider her old by any standards, except for maybe when measured against the life cycle of an everyday fruit fly. But the truth of it was, these days she felt a great deal older than what the age indicated on her birth certificate.

And who knew? Maybe the year that was written down wasn’t as accurate as she’d once thought. Certainly the last name had turned out not to be.

She’d spent more than twenty-six years thinking she was a Cavelli, only to be told that she wasn’t, that she and her brothers and sisters were actually Cavanaughs because her father was really a Cavanaugh. Thanks to a distraught maternity nurse who had been enveloped in grief the day her father and the real Cavelli baby were born, the two infants had accidentally been switched before either was a day old.

Former police chief Andrew Cavanaugh had done some research into the matter once it had come to light. It seemed that a nurse on the maternity floor, a Jane Allen, had just been told that her fiancé, Private First Class Wade Johnson, had been killed in some unnamed battle halfway around the world. Grief-stricken, Jane had gone through the paces of her job, utterly dazed and confused.

And because of that, Kendra’s father and his subsequent offspring had lost their identities. Her father was taken home by the Cavellis while the real Sean Cavelli had been claimed by Seamus Cavanaugh and his wife.

And now, several months into what she and her siblings referred to as the “great revelation,” she was still having trouble centering herself. She felt trapped between the past she’d thought was hers and the completely new present that loomed before her.

Maybe she’d have less trouble adapting, Kendra thought now as she cut across the hall of the second floor of One Police Plaza, if this name thing had not been tangled up with the loss of her own fiancé and now, on top of that, the sudden exit of her partner.

The first had all but destroyed her when he had deliberately blown himself away to the next world, and the second had just recently—and voluntarily—retired. The upshot was that both had left her to deal with things as best she could on her own.

She doubted that either one of them had given her so much as a thought when making their final decision. God knew that Jason hadn’t because if he had, he’d still be alive today. And they’d be married.

Instead, here she was, feeling incredibly isolated and alone. Alone even though her immediate family, counting her father, Sean, and her brothers and sisters, came to a grand total of seven people—plus her. At this point, Kendra didn’t know if she was even allowed to count the family members she was no longer actually related to.

As for the “family” she was suddenly supposed to be part of, she hadn’t gotten around to doing a successful head count there. All she knew was that, when gathered together, they could probably fill up half a stadium. God knew they filled a great deal of the Aurora Police Department, of which she was a proud part.

At least that hadn’t changed.

At least, she now amended silently, she assumed that wouldn’t change, even though she’d just been summoned by the chief of detectives, Brian Cavanaugh, who, along with the former chief of police, was one of her two “newfound” uncles.

Walking into the chief of detectives’ outer office, she stopped at the desk positioned just in front of the door to the man’s inner sanctum.

The entrance was guarded by a very capable-looking young woman in her late thirties. As Kendra crossed to her desk, the woman raised her eyes to Kendra’s and quietly waited for her to say something.

“Detective Kendra Cavel—Cavan—” Kendra stumbled, not having decided which name she was going to use now that she was aware of the whole story. It wasn’t as easy a decision as some might have thought. Thomas and Bridget had already both opted to go with Cavanaugh, as had her father, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to abandon the name she’d used for more than a quarter of a century.

The decision to do so was particularly difficult for her in light of the fact that she already felt as if she had been abandoned. If she abandoned her name and the people she’d once regarded as family, what did that say about her?

Tabling her unsettling thoughts for a moment, Kendra said, “I’m here to see Chief Cavanaugh.”

Lt. Reta Richards, the chief’s administrative assistant for over ten years, smiled at her and nodded knowingly, as if she understood and sympathized with the dilemma Kendra was facing these days.

“The chief is on the phone right now,” the lieutenant told her. “But he said to tell you that he’ll see you as soon as he’s through. Please have a seat.” She indicated the chairs to the right against the opposite wall. “It shouldn’t be long.”

With a preoccupied nod, Kendra crossed to the chairs and took a seat.

That was when she noticed that she wasn’t the only one waiting to see the chief of detectives. Occupying one of the other chairs was a tall, dark-haired, strikingly handsome man who despite his athletic build seemed to fill the room with his presence.

Making eye contact with her, the room’s other occupant flashed her an easy smile. The kind of smile that said he was comfortable in his own skin and welcomed visitors regularly.

Kendra was well acquainted with the type. Not a serious thought in his head, except for having fun. Her engagement to Jason had rescued her from men like that.

Or so she’d thought at the time.

Instead, her engagement to the late firefighter had introduced her to a world of devastating grief and heartache.

She nodded absently at the man, acknowledging his silent greeting, and then took her seat. She was not about to start a conversation with him; she fixed her eyes on the inner door.

Kendra was torn between hoping the chief’s door would open immediately, separating her from the possibility of having to make small talk with a man she didn’t know who most likely just wanted a receptive audience, and hoping that Brian Cavanaugh would take his time getting to her because she had no idea what to expect.

The problem was, she had trouble waiting. Her father had commented affectionately, more than once, that she was not one of his more patient children.

It was hard not to shift restlessly in her seat. The man to her right occupied his chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world. And when he smiled at her, all it seemed to do was increase her restlessness, although she couldn’t explain why.

As it turned out, Kendra didn’t have all that long to wait. Less than five minutes later, Reta saw the light go out on the phone’s multiline keyboard and looked up. “The chief will see you now.”

Since there were two of them and the lieutenant hadn’t specified which of them she was speaking to, Kendra heard herself asking, “Which one?”

“Why, both of you,” Reta replied pleasantly.

The man to her right was already on his feet. God but he was tall, Kendra thought as she rose from her chair. He had to be almost a foot taller than she was and she stood close to five-seven in her stacked heels.

For some reason she couldn’t pinpoint, she felt a strange ripple of foreboding in her stomach.

She had a bad feeling about this.

Kendra walked in first, whether because she was just a little faster, or because of some latent gallantry on the man’s part, she wasn’t quite certain. Not that it mattered all that much, she supposed. What mattered was why she’d been sent for in the first place.

Old-school all the way, Brian Cavanaugh rose from his chair and leaned forward over his desk. He shook Kendra’s hand warmly, as if they had known each other all her life instead of just a little while.

Oh, she’d known of him, and the chief had been the one to give her her gold shield at the ceremony when she’d been made a detective just shortly after she’d become engaged. But she hadn’t actually known him until the “great mixup” had come to light. After that, there had been a slew of miscellaneous invitations—both for actual occasions and for no reason at all—to attend family gatherings, usually at retired police chief Andrew Cavanaugh’s house, but not always.

Not everyone attended each gathering, but she’d seen the chief at these unofficial parties often enough. He’d worn the very same smile then as he was wearing now. Did that mean that she should relax?

Or was he just trying to soften the blow that was about to come?

She’d been born suspicious and while that was helpful in her line of investigative work, it did wreak havoc on her personal life.

“How’s everything going, Kendra?” the chief asked her as he silently indicated the chair to the left of his desk.

By everything, she assumed he meant work. Her partner had retired two weeks ago and she was alternating between missing the man’s grumpy countenance and being summarily angry at him for his abrupt retirement. Never mind that Det. Joe Walsh was approaching almost seventy and had well earned this retirement. The widower had led her to believe that he was planning to work forever. She’d allowed herself to get comfortable with the idea that she could count on seeing Joe’s hangdog frown facing her each morning across their desks.

“I’m managing,” she answered in a pleasant voice that neither confirmed nor denied her statement. Until she knew what was going on, her guard was going to remain up.

“And you, Detective Abilene?” Brian asked, looking at the tall, rangy man who’d stretched his long legs out before him the moment he’d sat down.

From this angle, the man seemed to be all leg, Kendra caught herself thinking.

“The same,” the detective replied, nodding toward Kendra as if that meant he was echoing her assessment.

Brian smiled then and Kendra’s uneasiness grew.

Part of the reason she disliked departures so intensely was because they were wrapped up in change. She’d never cared for change. It was a very real fact of life, but that didn’t make it any easier for her.

Lately there’d been so many changes, she couldn’t keep track of them all.

Brian laughed softly, causing both of the other two people in the room to look at him curiously.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Brian said to them. “Introductions are in order. Detective Matthew Abilene, meet Detective Kendra—”

He paused then, realizing that he hadn’t been apprised of her official decision yet. Each of the Cavellis, like the four stepchildren who had come with his marriage to his former partner, Lila, and the triplets from his late brother Mike’s hidden family, had been given the option of changing their surnames and officially becoming Cavanaughs if they so chose.

So far, the family name was batting a thousand, but he was not about to jump the gun with the few who were still undecided.

“Have you made a decision about your last name yet?” he asked her.

Because the chief was being thoughtful rather than pushy, she offered the man a grateful smile. “I’m still working on it, sir.”

He nodded understandingly. “I understand. It’s a big step to take,” he agreed. “Let me know what you decide.” His intent was to let her know that while he was interested in the final outcome, he refused to apply any undue pressure on either side of the argument. “Anyway,” he continued briskly, “it’s come to my attention that the two of you have both recently lost your partners for one reason or another. Yours took his long overdue retirement,” he said to Kendra, then turned to Matt. “And yours—”

“—picked up and left the state when his girlfriend decided she wanted to live somewhere where it’s always raining,” Matt commented. Glancing toward Kendra, he added, “They moved to Seattle.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the handsome face. Was he talking down to her? The man might be good-looking enough to have his own fan club, but she took offense. “I figured that part out on my own,” she told him coolly.

“Sharp,” Matt murmured. Whether he was just making an offhanded comment or being sarcastic, she wasn’t sure. But she leaned toward the latter—in which case he needed to be taken down a few pegs even if she never saw the man again.

“Yes, she is,” Brian replied in no uncertain terms. “Which is why I’ve decided to partner the two of you up.”

Kendra frowned. She’d had a vague, uneasy feeling that this was coming but somehow, hearing it caused a jolt. She didn’t want this. She knew she couldn’t just pick a new partner, but this man was as far from her first choice as humanly possible. Any man this handsome would be trouble. She could feel it in her bones.

“Are you in Homicide?” she heard herself stiffly asking the other detective.

Because if he was, he and the partner who’d been dragged to Seattle had to have been next to invisible. She didn’t recall seeing either one of them around and, annoying though he promised to be, Abilene was not the kind of man who blended into the woodwork. Once upon a time, before she’d been so terribly disillusioned, she might have even felt a flutter—or three— in Abilene’s presence. But those days were long gone. Still, she would have taken note of him—had he been there to take note of.

“Major Case Squad,” the other detective corrected her.

Major Case? That didn’t make sense. Why was the chief pairing her up with a detective from another division? Kendra turned to look at the man she was supposed to regard as her uncle.

“Then how—”

Brian anticipated the rest of her question and spared them both by answering, “I’ve decided to switch Detective Abilene to Homicide.”

“You’re taking me off Major Case?” Matt asked, surprised. Why? What had brought this on? His record was clean, exemplary even. He would have been aware of any complaints from his captain.

“Just for the time being,” Brian told him mildly.

It was his way of helping his people adjust to new circumstances. He allowed them to believe that a change was temporary while they did their best to fit in. After the initial period of adjustment, he’d discovered that most times getting the same people to transfer back out—and leave their new partner—in order to go back to their old division required the assistance of a crowbar.

He was counting on that here.

“There’s not that much to do, even with Seth gone,” Brian pointed out to Matt. “Until it picks up, we could use a mind like yours over in Homicide.” And then he instinctively turned toward Kendra and added, “And that in no way was meant to be a negative reflection on the caliber of your work. It’s just that with Joe retired, you need a new partner.”

Kendra knew that. And she knew that the chief was only trying to be helpful, even though she didn’t want any help. But the only time detectives went solo was when their partners were either in court, testifying, out sick or on vacation. Otherwise, if detectives left or asked to be transferred out, the resulting gaps were filled as quickly as possible.

This was just a little faster than she’d expected. Or liked. Even if change hadn’t made her feel uneasy, Abilene, with his perfect smile, did.

Joe’s chair was still warm, she thought ruefully. She hadn’t thought she would have to get used to someone new for at least another week. Maybe longer.

So much for longer.

She was well aware of procedure, but that didn’t mean that she liked it. And she had the uneasy feeling that she’d just been partnered with a hotshot who got by on his looks. Granted, she was going by a gut feeling, but her gut had always been fairly accurate.

Kendra made up her mind to ask around about Abilene. Or maybe she would have Tom do it for her. Her older brother had a way of finding things out that didn’t rub people the wrong way, while she, well, she hadn’t quite managed to successfully develop that talent yet. At least not when she found herself heavily invested in something. Such as now.

She slanted a glance at the man sitting beside her. He seemed to be fine with the arrangement. Or at least he wasn’t protesting it. But then, there were many ways to protest something, not all of them vocal. Abilene’s expression gave her no clue as to what he was thinking even as, for one unguarded moment, it seemed to ripple directly into the pit of her stomach.

Definitely needed to have Tom ask around, she decided firmly.

Right now, she needed to know one thing. Taking a breath, Kendra asked the man sitting across from her, “Is this permanent, sir?”

Uncle or not, she knew that her family connection didn’t figure into this right now and she didn’t want him to think she was questioning his judgment. On the other hand, she really needed to know what she was facing here. Forewarned was forearmed.

Brian smiled and looked at the two people sitting before him, one at rigid attention, the other in a seemingly relaxed mode. He had a positive feeling about this. Although probably not immediately evident to either one of them, pairing these two was a good thing.

“We’ll see,” he answered. Turning his attention to Abilene, he gave the man an opportunity to voice any protest, although he had a feeling that there would be none forthcoming. It wasn’t that Abilene was a dutiful “good soldier,” but he rolled with the punches and took whatever came his way. But by no means was he a pushover. This would be a healthy blending of styles.

“So, unless you have any objections, Detective Abilene, you’ll be moving your things over to Homicide, effective immediately.”

Matt nodded. His expression remained the same, even while his eyes swept over the woman to his left, as if taking measure of her. If there was a verdict one way or another, he kept it to himself. There was neither eagerness nor covert annoyance in his voice. “I’ll get right on it, sir,” he promised.

Let the adventure begin, Brian thought.

Like a mechanic with an ear for the machines he worked with, Brian liked hearing the sound of a well-tuned engine. He had a feeling that was what he had here. Kendra would just have to get over the initial period of adjustment. But it would be worth it.

“Well, unless there’s anything else,” Brian said, a note of finality in his voice, “you’re dismissed.” And then, as the two rose to their feet, he added with a smile, “Make me proud.”

“Yes, sir,” Kendra replied, forcing a smile she didn’t feel to her lips.

“Do my best, sir.” Matt fired off the casual promise as he turned to leave. He caught the dark look that his new partner shot him.

The woman was very attractive, but she didn’t know it. He’d never had a female partner before. This was going to be interesting. Very interesting.

Kendra strode out of the inner, then outer office ahead of him, putting distance between them quickly. She didn’t bother to pretend to want to talk—because she didn’t. She was busy dealing with this latest curve that Fate had tossed her.

Matt merely stretched his legs and shortened that distance to nothing in a matter of a few steps.

He caught up to her way before the elevator, but she kept on walking, not acknowledging his presence. It was as if she’d been encapsulated in a world all her own.

If only, she thought.

“So what do I call you?” Abilene asked as he reached over her head and pressed the Up button on the wall before she could.

Forced to acknowledge him, she had a feeling her best bet was to put him in his place right from the very beginning. If she was wrong about him, there would be time enough to soften her approach.

Kendra looked up at him—she was going to need to get higher heels, she decided, then almost instantly rescinded that thought. A little distance between them might be a good thing. Being too close to him might blunt the edge she would need. There was no getting away from the fact that he was bone-meltingly good-looking and close proximity might cause her to forget.

“Good at my job,” she answered.

Matt considered her reply for a second and then nodded. “Okay, but that’s a little long. How about I just call you ‘Good’?”

The elevator arrived and she turned her back on him as she entered, silently cursing Joe for having left her to undertake a life revolving around fly-fishing.

Chapter 2

When Abilene got off behind her, Kendra turned around to look at her new—and hopefully very temporary—partner. Why was he following her?

“Shouldn’t you be going up to your floor to get your things?” she asked him.

Just for a moment, he’d allowed himself to watch her walk, appreciatively taking in the way her hips swayed ever so slightly. Her question pulled him back to reality. He nodded toward the squad room just behind her. “I thought I’d see where my desk is first.”

“And what?” she asked. “If it doesn’t meet with your standards, you’ll stay where you are?”

Abilene grinned, amused. “Is that a hopeful note in your voice I hear?” He studied her for a moment, looking beyond her high cheekbones and her fascinating eyes. “You don’t do change very well, do you?”

The last thing she wanted to put up with was being analyzed. Kendra’s eyes blazed as she tossed her head. “What I do or don’t do is none of your business,” she informed him.

The way he saw it, that wasn’t quite true. “Some of it will be. And I want to see where my desk is so I don’t have to wander around aimlessly when I come down with an armload of my stuff.” He looked at her with eyes that seemed earnest. “Does that meet with your approval?”

Rather than answer him, she merely sighed and beckoned him to follow her through the door. Crossing the floor, she stopped at what seemed to be the center of the room.

“This is yours,” she told him, gesturing toward the cleared expanse of desk that butted up against hers.

A greater contrast between the two areas would have been difficult to find. One desk was the picture of virgin territory without so much as a scrap of paper on it, while the other desk bore silent testimony to a very cluttered style. There was a computer off to one side, its keyboard stretched out before it rather than neatly tucked out of sight. The rest of the desk was buried beneath files and a snowstorm of scattered, interweaving papers. Not so much as a square inch of desktop was visible.

Matt made no verbal comment, but the way his mouth curved seemed to say it all. At least, she read a great deal into it.

Kendra took umbrage at what she perceived as criticism from her new, God-help-her, partner. Periodically, she went through everything on her desk and cleared spaces, trying her best to organize the raft of papers into some sort of a system, but inevitably, the stacks would bleed into one another again, merging and creating a chaotic pile.

“I’ve got a system,” she retorted defensively in response to the amusement in Abilene’s liquid-green eyes.

“I’m sure you do.” To the untrained ear, Abilene’s mild tone sounded completely agreeable. Why, then, did it make her want to scratch his eyes out or at least challenge him to a weapons proficiency contest on the gun range?

Absently, Matt opened the center drawer of his new desk, then checked, one by one, a few of the other drawers. Like the surface of the desk, they were all pristinely clean.

He shut the last drawer. “Your old partner did a thorough job cleaning things out. He didn’t leave anything behind.”

“Not even any hope,” Kendra murmured under her breath. The amused sound coming from her new partner told her that her voice hadn’t been quite as low as she’d thought.

Great, Pretty Boy has hearing like a bat.

Stepping back, Abilene pushed his chair into his desk. “I’ll go get my stuff now.”

“I can hardly wait,” Kendra deadpanned, pasting a pained smile on her lips.

Matt paused for a moment, his eyes slowly sliding down the length of this sharp-tongued woman. Thanks to his chaotic upbringing, he was basically nomadic in his lifestyle and his relationships. It gave him the ability to take whatever came down the road because, good or bad, he knew it was only temporary and would eventually change.

“You know,” he told her, “I’m really not such a bad guy to work with. Not as good as some, but better than most. You might want to put the pitchfork down, Good, and reserve judgment for a while.”

The fact that Abilene wasn’t heaping endless laurels on himself surprised her. Someone like him, who exuded sensuality with his every movement, ordinarily had the inside track on vanity, possessing an ego that made passage through narrow doorways an ongoing challenge.

She supposed she could be wrong about Abilene, but she didn’t care to debate it with herself right now, one way or the other. She wasn’t feeling all that magnanimous or friendly.

“The jury’s still out on that one,” Kendra informed him.

Matt supposed that was the best he would get for now. And maybe that was good because he could see himself being attracted to her, but that might complicate matters. And all he was interested in for now was a truce while he got his bearings. Later might prove to be another story, he mused, but right now, he just wanted to settle in.

He flashed an easy smile. “Sounds fair enough,” he replied.

Turning on his heel, he was about to leave. All his things could be packed up and transported in one trip. Unlike his new partner, once he closed a case, he didn’t hang on to the papers that went with it. Instead, he placed everything onto a flash drive and preserved the information that way. It took up a great deal less space. And it made for a neater desk. He worked better that way.

Matt got exactly three steps toward the squad room door when he heard his name being called.

“Hey, Abilene!”

When he turned around again, Matt found himself looking down at an older man with thick silver hair and a far thicker waistline. Rather than hiding the latter behind the all-forgiving folds of a jacket, the older man had left his jacket in his office and was wearing just his shirt. The sleeves of his slightly rumpled shirt were rolled up and his tie appeared to have been hastily loosened, as if leaving it in its initial position would have eventually wound up choking him.

“Abilene?” the older man repeated, this time turning the last name into a question.

From the looks of the man, this had to be his new boss, Matt thought. He doubled back in long, loping strides.

“Yes, sir,” he responded easily, extending his hand to the other man, who stood only slightly shorter than he did. However, his slumped shoulders gave the impression that he was shorter than he was.

After a beat, the older man took Abilene’s offered hand. The handshake was surprisingly hearty. “I’m Lt. Holmes,” Isaac Holmes told his newest detective. “You’re just in time.”

Abilene cocked his head, the very gesture a query. “For?”

“You and Cavelli—you’re still Cavelli, right?” Holmes asked Kendra, sparing her a quick glance, then turning away before she had a chance to answer. “Just caught a case,” he concluded.

Matt jerked his thumb in the general direction of the hall—and the elevator. “I was just about to bring down my stuff,” Matt told him.

“Your stuff can wait. It’s not going anywhere. But you are.” Tearing off the top page from his pad where he’d written down the incoming information, the lieutenant pressed the paper into Kendra’s hand. “Super found a dead body. Not the one he expected to.” Glancing over toward Abilene, he added, “Welcome to Homicide.”

Kendra glanced at the paper Holmes had handed her, then tucked it into her pocket. “The Super expected to find a body?” she questioned.

“Not expected-expected,” Holmes clarified. “Guy who lives there hasn’t been seen for three days, so his boss sent someone to his apartment. When he didn’t get an answer, the kid got the super.”

“And they found a dead body in the apartment who wasn’t the guy who lived there,” Kendra guessed.

Holmes nodded. “I want you to find out whose body’s in the apartment and see if you can get a handle on where the guy who pays the rent is. Apparently, he’s still missing.”

“You got it, boss,” Abilene promised as he fell into step beside Kendra.

“Jump right in, don’t you?” Kendra commented as she increased her pace. But even so, Abilene more than kept up. Man had legs that belonged on an ostrich, she thought darkly.

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” he asked innocently as they went into the hall. If this wasn’t going to be an all-out territorial war, he needed to do what he could to put her mind at ease. He was definitely not out to become king of the hill—at least, not this hill. “Look, I’m not trying to snag your territory, if that’s what you’re worried about. From what I hear, there’s more than enough work to go around for everyone. This isn’t a competition.”

He was analyzing her again. Kendra gave him a cold look as she yanked open the door to the stairwell. She hated being analyzed. “Nobody said it was.”

Abilene stopped short. Was she taking the stairs? “Hey, aren’t we supposed to be taking the elevator down?” he asked.

“Go ahead,” Kendra tossed over her shoulder. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

Like a door to a tomb, the stairwell door all but thundered as it closed behind her.

Peace at last.

Kendra’s heels met the metal steps, emitting a quick, rhythmic staccato sound as she hurried down to the first floor. She was only halfway down the first flight with three more to go when she heard the stairwell door above her opening again. She didn’t have to look to know that Abilene was now behind her—and catching up fast.

Couldn’t she get at least a couple of minutes away from this man? She wanted to be able to clear her head and having him around was not at all conducive to that.

He had no idea how the woman’s mind worked. Was she intent on trying to ditch him, or make him fail in front of the boss? Was she just playing some sort of a game where only she knew the rules? He wasn’t about to take a chance on being left behind on the first assignment that he—that they—had just caught.

He was a firm believer that you never got to redo a first impression—and he knew that they were the ones that tended to last.

Shadowing his new partner’s every step, Matt was half a beat behind her as they came to the bottom of the last staircase. She’d just reached the door when he stretched his hand over her head and pushed it open as she turned the doorknob.

Kendra bit back an annoyed retort. She felt as if she was almost encompassed by the man’s long arms. He seemed to take up all the space around her, she thought grudgingly. And all the air. There was no other reason why, just for a second, she’d felt so hot and so light-headed.

“I can push open my own door, Abilene,” she informed him crisply. Out of the stairwell, she took the opportunity to pull fresh air into her lungs. The feeling of heat began to recede.

“Nobody said you couldn’t, Good,” Abilene replied mildly. “Just doing what I can to help. It’s a heavy door.”

It was a heavy door, but she wasn’t about to say anything to that effect. She didn’t need some hotshot thinking he was her knight in dented armor.

Muttering a couple of choice words under her breath, Kendra all but marched into the parking lot. She went straight for her old Crown Victoria. Number 23, the one she used to share with Joe, before the man had been seduced by the idea of retirement.

“I’ve got the address, I’m driving,” she crisply informed Abilene.

Wide shoulders rose slightly, then lowered again in what seemed like the most careless of fashions, as if the matter of who drove was the last thing on her partner’s mind.

“Fine with me,” he told her. “I like riding shotgun anyway.” Opening the passenger door, he folded his long, lanky frame into the seat, then pulled out the seat belt and secured it. “Never cared much for driving in traffic.”

Kendra frowned as she started up the vehicle. So far, Abilene seemed to be going out of his way to come across as agreeable. But she wasn’t about to be lulled into a false sense of security. Joe had tripped her up several times before they’d found their work rhythm. Since he was her first partner after she’d been awarded her gold shield, she had nothing to compare the older man to and assumed that all male partners were going to challenge her straight out of the box until she proved herself capable.

After being on the job for over two years in the Homicide Division, she found it more than a little annoying to be sent back to square one. But that was the price she had to pay for being a woman—and for being related to the brass. Because her father was head of the CSI lab, she was acquainted with accusations of nepotism. But now that she was connected to the Cavanaughs, she had a feeling that she would never know a peaceful moment again.

She spared Abilene a glance as they took off. Nope, she thought. Never again.

The five-story apartment building where Lt. Holmes had sent them was located in the more well-off—although by no means rich—section of Aurora. Leaving the unmarked Crown Victoria parked in a space intended for deliveries, Kendra made sure that the police light was visible before she and Abilene went up the four flights in the elevator to the scene of the crime.

“What, no stairs?” Abilene asked, amused when she opted for the elevator.

“I thought I’d let you save your energy in case there’s a need for some heavy lifting,” Kendra told him without missing a beat.

“Thoughtful,” he quipped as they got off.

The forced smile came and went in a blink of an eye. “I try.”

“Yeah, me, too,” he said, looking at her significantly.

Something in her gut undulated for half a heartbeat. She banked it down and walked faster.

The apartment in question wasn’t hard to find. The immediate area directly before the crime scene was crowded with curious people. Apparently people from the building’s other apartments, as well as an influx of others drawn by word of mouth, were gathered about the hallway in clusters like bees circling a hive.

The yellow tape strung across a doorway must have attracted them, Kendra couldn’t help thinking.

The superintendent, when they finally located him, appeared rather young, inexperienced, and seemed completely distraught. Every few minutes he kept nervously repeating that this was his “first dead body” and that viewing it wasn’t nearly as “cool” as he’d thought it would be. He seemed genuinely disappointed about that.

Kendra called the slight man a few choice names in her head, but for now kept them to herself. She glanced in Abilene’s direction and guessed by his expression that perhaps a few of the same names for the super had occurred to him as well.

Maybe they weren’t that different after all, she mused.

Getting down to business, Kendra went directly toward the body. Lying facedown in the middle of the living room, the victim was completely covered with a king-size blanket that appeared to have been taken from the lone bedroom. No limbs were peeking out at either end, but a pool of angry dark red blood haloed the blanket, bearing silent testimony to the fact that someone had indeed died in this apartment. No one ever lost that much blood and survived.

Squatting down beside the victim, Kendra raised a corner of the blanket and got her first view of the dead woman. Her reaction was always the same. Her heart would feel as if it was constricting in her chest as sympathy flooded through her.

The victim, a woman most likely in her twenties, was lying facedown on what had been a beige rug. The back of her head had been struck hard and was apparently the source of all the blood on the floor. Kendra’s first guess was that the blow to the head appeared to be the cause of death.

Dropping the blanket back over the dead woman, Kendra rose carefully to her feet, ignoring Abilene’s extended hand, offering her aid.

“Our killer knew the victim,” she commented, more to herself than to Abilene. She wasn’t quite ready to talk to him just yet, at least not in the role of her partner. She regarded him more as a casual observer. Baby steps, she counseled herself. “And apparently he felt remorseful enough to cover her up so he wouldn’t have to look at her after he’d ended her life.”

“Or she,” Abilene interjected.

Caught off guard, Kendra stopped and looked at him quizzically. “What?”

“Or she,” Abilene repeated. “The killer could have been a woman. Doesn’t take much to pick up that statue and swing it hard enough to do some major damage at the point of contact.”

Abilene nodded toward what appeared to be a rather cheap bust of Shakespeare lying on the floor not that far from the prone body.

Kendra stared down at the faux bronze bust. Shakespeare, no less.

You just never knew, did you?

Her first thought would have been that someone who’d gone out and bought something like that would have been mild-mannered and cultured. So much for being a profiler.

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed.

Moving over to the bust, she squatted down for a better look at it. It was the murder weapon, all right. There was a thin red line of blood at one corner. The killer had obviously come up behind the victim and hit her when she hadn’t been looking.

A lovers’ quarrel? Or calculated, premeditated murder?

Too bad the bust couldn’t talk.

More than four hundred years after the fact and the bard was apparently still killing people off, Kendra thought cynically. Except now they didn’t get up for a final bow once the curtain fell.

With a suppressed sigh, Kendra rose to her feet again.

And then, just as she turned back to look at the prone figure lying on the floor beneath the ginger-colored blanket, one of the crime scene investigators who had arrived earlier came over to bag the ancient-looking bust.

“That comment about the killer knowing the victim,” Abilene began.

For one tension-free second, she’d actually forgotten about him. Too bad that second couldn’t have lasted a bit longer.

Abilene’s remark, hanging in midair like that, had her looking at him sharply, anticipating some sort of a confrontation regarding her thought process.

Was he going to challenge something else she’d said? Already?

Kendra eyed the man she knew her sisters would have thought was a living, breathing hunk, trying to see past his chiseled exterior. She waited for the verbal duel to begin.

“Watch a lot of procedural television, do you?” he asked.

“I don’t have to.” Although she did, she silently admitted. The shows intrigued her. But he didn’t have to know that. She debated saying anything further, then decided to go ahead. “My father’s the head of the Crime Scene Lab.”

“Boy, you sure have every angle covered, don’t you, Good?” he laughed.

Kendra bristled. “I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

Now that was definitely amusement in his eyes. “Would you rather I called you Bad?” It was clearly a teasing remark and perhaps under other circumstances—before life had trampled all over her heart—she might have picked up the banter, even enjoyed it. But she was what she was and there was no going back.

Still, it didn’t stop her from noticing that the man had the kind of smile a woman could get lost in—even a sensible woman.

But not her, of course.

Still, she wished the chief hadn’t picked him to be her partner. Going it alone—even with an increased workload—would have been better for her in the long run.

“What I’d rather was that my old partner was still around.”

He surprised her by leaning in and whispering, “Lemonade, Good. When life throws lemons at you, you make lemonade.”

Her eyes held his for a long moment. Until she found herself sinking into them. She backpedaled quickly. “I don’t like lemonade.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he murmured before turning back to the murder scene.

Chapter 3

“Hey, Abilene, what do you—”

Kendra stopped abruptly. She’d assumed that the detective was behind her, but when she turned around, she only saw the crime scene investigators in the room.

“Great,” she muttered. “Now he’s wandering off.” Biting off a few ripe words, she went to look for him.

She found her new partner in the bedroom. Abilene stood before the narrow mirrored closet. The sliding door was in the open position and he was staring into it.

Glancing over his shoulder, Kendra saw nothing that would have captured his attention so intently. Was she missing something, or was he one of those people who stared off into space as he pieced things together in his mind?

“So, what do you think?” she finally asked him.

If she’d surprised him by coming up behind him, Abilene gave no indication. Turning from the closet, he looked at her as he lobbed her question back to her.

“You’re the expert.”

Did that mean he was unwilling to state an opinion, or that he was giving her her due? So far she really had no idea how to read this man and that bothered her. More than that, it annoyed her.

Hell, everything about this man annoyed her, not the least of which was that he seemed to be getting under her skin and this was only day one of their temporary partnership. What was she going to be like a month into this ordeal? She didn’t want to think about it.

Kendra was aware that learning to pick up signals from this man would take time, but she’d gotten more impatient in this difficult past year and it made her less willing to wait. Jason’s accident and subsequent suicide had made her want to seize things immediately, solve crimes yesterday. It was hard regaining her stride when all she wanted to do was run, not walk and certainly not stroll.

Abilene was still looking at her. Waiting for her opinion—or at least pretending to. Either way, she gave it to him.

She glanced back toward the living room, then said, “Looks to me as if Ryan Burnett and his girlfriend got into a fight—cause unknown at the moment—and in a fit of temper, he hit her with that bust. When he realized what he’d done—and that she was dead—he apparently got scared and took off.”

“Stopping to pack?” Abilene asked.

He indicated the cluster of bare hangers in the closet. Off to one side of the tasteful, small bedroom was a black lacquered bureau. Several of its drawers were hanging open. From the disarray left behind, it was obvious that some items had been hastily grabbed from there, too.

She shrugged, amending her theory to fit the scene. “Maybe Ryan decided to take off permanently. Man’s going to need more than a toothbrush if he’s starting a new life somewhere else.”

“That shows clear thinking,” Abilene protested. “It doesn’t jibe with a supposed crime of impulse,” he pointed out.

Kendra saw no contradiction. “The man’s an accountant. He’s supposed to be a clear thinker. It’s the nature of the beast.” She glanced at the bed. It had no comforter or blanket over its crisp, coordinated navy blue sheets. That confirmed her initial theory that the blanket in the other room, now spread over the murder victim, had come from here.

That brought her back to the theory that Ryan hadn’t meant to kill the woman. Things had gotten out of hand for some reason. But what had triggered the argument? And why now, at this particular point? The answers to that might explain everything.

Seeing one of the two officers who had called in the homicide, she crossed to the man and asked, “Do we have an ID on the victim yet?”

The officer nodded and offered her the wallet he’d gotten from the dead woman’s purse.

“Her name’s Summer Miller,” he told her. He handed over the wallet, exposing the driver’s license for her benefit.

Kendra looked down at the small picture on the license. She’d seen a larger, framed photograph of Summer in the bedroom on the bureau. She was standing in front of a smiling young man. His arms were wrapped protectively around her. The two appeared very happy, as if they didn’t have a care in the world between them.

They did now, Kendra thought grimly. She assumed that the man in the photograph was the missing accountant, Ryan Burnett.

“Well, at least we have a name for his girlfriend,” she said quietly, closing the wallet for now.

Spying a pile of plastic sealable bags used for evidence, she picked one up and slipped the wallet inside. She closed the seal before tucking the wallet into her pocket. She wanted to hand-carry this piece to her father personally. There were questions she wanted to ask.

And then she turned toward Abilene. “You up for some canvassing of the neighbors on the floor, see if anyone heard or saw anything that might prove to be useful?”

“Lead the way,” he said, gesturing toward the doorway. “But—”

Kendra crossed the threshold, then looked at him over her shoulder. “But?” she echoed.

“Shouldn’t we inform her next of kin first before we start canvassing and flashing her picture around?” he asked.

“Since we’re here, we’ll canvas the floor first.” Kendra didn’t like wasting time and she sincerely doubted that word of the young woman’s murder—as well as her name—would get out in the next hour. “She’ll still be the victim of a homicide—and dead—in an hour,” she assured Abilene. “Plenty of time to break her family’s heart in an hour instead of now,” Kendra added with a resigned sigh.

That was the worst part of the job as far as she as concerned. Informing the family of a death, then watching the light go out of a parent’s or a spouse’s eyes. They should have a special group of trained professionals who only did that—and rendered grief counseling while they were at it.

“I suppose you’re right,” Abilene murmured in a deep voice under his breath.

She knew he didn’t mean it, but she took it as a token victory. In response, she paused to flash a quick, satisfied smile in his direction.

That he smiled back pleased her more than she was happy about.

They wound up canvassing the apartments on the crime scene floor. All the people who had been milling around the hallway had mysteriously disappeared when they came out, going back to their lives and choosing not to communicate with the police.

It turned out that only a few people—three, to be exact—were in their apartments to answer their doorbells when Kendra and Abilene came around.

The first was a young woman with a brand-new baby. The baby looked to be less than a month old. The new mother had all but physically dragged them into her apartment when they rang her bell. It was obvious that she was desperate for adult companionship, even companionship that involved being questioned about a murder.

It was clear that while she loved her infant son, the woman was more than ready to return to work—or at least to be in the company of human beings who knew how to do more than spit up, cry, wet and sleep.

Moving like a woman who was sleepwalking, she admitted to not having heard anything out of the ordinary that day: no sudden shouts, no raised, angry voices, no loud crashing sounds.

They thanked her and left as soon as they could extricate themselves.

Two doors down, a night watchman finally opened the door after Abilene had given up ringing the doorbell and resorted to knocking—hard. Rumpled and bleary-eyed, the man appeared none too happy to be woken up. He was no more helpful than the new mother had been, shaking his head in response to the same questions.

“No, man, I didn’t hear anything. I took a sleeping pill,” he explained, then whined, “Only way I can get some sleep. It’s just not natural to have to try to sleep during the day,” he grumbled.

“Maybe you should try getting another job,” Kendra suggested tactfully.

Her words brought an instant, almost malevolent look into the man’s dark eyes. “Don’t you think I would if I could?” he snapped at her. “I was a damn aerospace engineer before all those useless companies started to bail and move out of the state. This damn night watchman job was the only thing I could find after looking for five months.” He glared at her accusingly. “Now I probably won’t be able to get back to sleep because of you.”

She was about to say something placating and apologetic to the belligerent watchman when she noticed Abilene shifting beside her. The next thing she knew, he was placing himself between her and the man in the doorway.

“Take it easy, man,” Abilene advised, his voice mild. “Might help you fall back to sleep if you calm down a little.”

By his subdued expression, it was obvious that the night watchman had become aware of the rather pronounced differences in height between him and the detective. Rather than say something sarcastic or cynical, the man nodded and backed up into the security of his apartment. The next moment, he’d shut the door.

For a second, Kendra was stunned. Turning, she was all set to tell Abilene that she didn’t need him to run interference for her or play the big, bad guardian, but then she decided to let the matter drop. Maybe Abilene, in his own clumsy, heavy-handed way, was trying to be helpful. Even, perhaps, protective.

The last thought shimmied through her, creating a shiver she managed to tamp down. Maybe she was just working too hard. But she couldn’t stop now.

Two doors away from the crime scene they found their third person to interview. Unlike the other two tenants, he was neither half-asleep, nor bleary-eyed and belligerent. Tyler Blake, a “currently” out-of-work actor according to his own description, was both friendly and more than willing to answer questions without seeming desperate for company.

And, also unlike the other two tenants they’d interviewed, Blake admitted to having heard something earlier that day.

“It sounded like two people arguing, but I just thought that someone had their TV turned up loud,” he admitted ruefully. “I didn’t pay attention and then it was quiet again. Sorry,” he apologized, flashing a contrite smile at Kendra.

“Nothing to apologize for, Mr. Blake. You couldn’t have known what was going on,” she told him. Another question occurred to her and she asked, “Were you by any chance friendly with Mr. Burnett?”

The out-of-work actor shrugged. “Just small talk at the elevator and the mailbox. You know, ‘Just another great day in Paradise,’ that kind of thing. We never talked about anything personal, anything that mattered,” he clarified.

“Did you know his girlfriend?” Abilene asked out of the blue. Up until now, he’d been rather quiet, letting her take the lead and choosing to listen rather than to question.

Tyler looked surprised at the question. “You mean to talk to, or by sight?”

“You tell us,” Abilene replied, leaving it up to the actor to fill in the blanks.

“Well, I saw them leaving his apartment a couple of times, but I never had any conversations with her, if that’s what you mean.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped his lips. “Fact is, I’m not sure if I could pick her out of a lineup if I had to.”

“Well, lucky for you that won’t come up,” Abilene told him. “Burnett’s girlfriend was found dead in his apartment this morning.”

Tyler’s eyes widened in absolute shock. Perfectly round and black like small marbles, they gave the impression that they would fall out of his head at any minute.

“He killed her?” he asked in disbelief, his voice trembling.

“Right now, that seems to be the working theory,” Abilene told the actor. “Unless you know something different.” He paused, giving the actor a moment for the information to sink in. “Any thoughts on that?” he prodded.

Tyler really looked surprised then. “Me? No. No,” he assured Abilene while trying to suppress a shiver of his own. “Just all sounds kind of creepy, that’s all. When I did see them together, they looked happy—I guess,” he tagged on with a shrug.

“You guess,” Abilene repeated slowly, watching Tyler’s eyes.

Tyler drew himself up to be a little taller, a little straighter. Abilene still towered over him. “Well, yeah. I didn’t stare at them or anything. I’ve got my own life,” he said. “And my own girlfriend,” he added with pride. “She’s my fiancée, actually,” he clarified. “And she doesn’t like me staring at other women,” he added with a grin.

“I hear you,” Abilene said with a conspiratorial laugh. “They can get really jealous on you for just being yourself. Nothing wrong with a guy just looking.”

“If you think of anything else,” Kendra said, interrupting what looked as if it had the makings of a guy fest and taking a card out of her pocket, “call this number.” She tapped the phone number beneath her name. “Ask for Detective Cavelli.”

“So, is that the name you’re going with, Good? Cavelli?” Abilene asked as they walked away from the actor’s apartment.

Why did his questions immediately get her back up? It was, after all, a legitimate question. But coming from Abilene, it got under her skin.

Just as he did.

She supposed she was being unfair—but that still didn’t change her reaction.

“It’s the name on the card,” she told him. They stopped at the crime scene one last time. The crime scene investigators were apparently wrapping things up, she thought. That was their cue to leave. “I didn’t want to confuse him. So far, this actor’s our most lucid witness.”

“Or at least he’s playing the part of one,” Abilene commented as they walked over to the centrally located elevator. His comment had her looking at him quizzically and he shrugged. “Hey, he’s an out-of-work actor—they need audiences like most people need air.”

“Speaking from experience?” she asked.

“In a way,” Abilene admitted. “I dated an actress once.” And then he laughed. He’d dated several of them, actually. At different times. Beautiful women with beautiful faces, all clamoring to be used—finding a personal hell on the other side. “Hard not to in this state.”

“Dated an actress,” Kendra repeated. Probably a whole bunch of them, possibly at the same time. He had the charm to pull it off, she decided. If you liked that sort of thing, she couldn’t help adding. “How nice for her,” she commented dryly.

“Nice for both of us,” he said, then added with a smile, “Short and sweet.”

Something in his voice caught Kendra’s attention— and, though she wouldn’t have admitted it in so many words, it also aroused her curiosity, among other things she chose not to explore.

“Is that a requirement with you? ‘Short and sweet’?” she repeated when he just looked at her.

His mouth curved devilishly. “As a matter of fact, yes, it is.”

She’d been right about him, she thought as she got in behind the wheel of the Crown Victoria. Abilene was a player, trading on his exceedingly good looks and satisfying his appetite whenever the spirit moved him. She bet it moved him a lot.

“Where to now?” he asked as he buckled his seat belt.

“Back to the precinct to see what kind of information we can find about the late Summer Miller.” She turned on the ignition. “By the way, what was that back there? With the actor,” she specified.

“It’s called being a detective and gathering information. Also questioning a witness. Why?” he asked her. “Wasn’t I supposed to do any talking? Am I just supposed to be your strong, silent backup?”

She sincerely doubted the man knew the meaning of the word silent. For now, until she got used to him, she just wanted him to stay out of the way, not suddenly step up and take the lead. She had no problem sharing that position if the person she was sharing it with had respect for her. But Abilene wasn’t giving off any of those vibrations. At least none on a frequency she was receiving.

“I only thought, this being your first case, you’d just observe,” she told him.

“This is my first homicide, not my first case,” he corrected. He wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears rookie to stand in awe of her. If that was what she wanted, she should have gone with one of the department’s newly minted detectives, not him. “The actor just brought up some questions for me. Sorry, was I supposed to clear them with you first before asking him?”

It wasn’t exactly a belligerent question, at least not in tone. But she could feel him challenging her nonetheless. Rules and boundaries needed to be established, here and now. Or maybe she was just reading too much into it. These days, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Maybe she just needed to unwind. Find a way to relax a little. She wondered what her sisters were doing after work tonight. Bridget was usually all caught up in her fiancé these days, but that still left Kari.

Maybe she’d give Kari a call—after she called Thomas to ask him to look into her new partner’s background. She’d feel a lot better if she knew the kind of person she would be working with. Hotshots and redhot investigators tended to come across the same way sometimes. It would be good to have a second opinion on what, exactly, she had on her hands here.

“Well, was I?” Abilene pressed.

Kendra blinked, then realized that she’d lost the thread of the conversation. She needed to ask for clarification—and that annoyed her.

“Were you what?” she asked, sparing him a quick glance as she eased the car to a stop at a red light.

Abilene suppressed an impatient sigh. “Was I supposed to clear it with you first before I asked the actor any questions?” This time, there was an edge to his tone.

That would be nice.

She knew the detective was being sarcastic. She supposed, in his place, she would have felt the same way.

Okay, so she was being testy. But that was because she didn’t like change and she didn’t like the fact that he had a way of looking at her that made her stomach muscles cramp up.

Kendra did her best to temper her own voice. “Of course not. I was just surprised to hear you asking questions, that’s all.”

Matt decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Shrugging, he stood down and relaxed again. Maybe the woman wasn’t a class-A pain in the butt. She just came across like one. But maybe she had a reason to—one that he intended to find out, provided there was a reason.

“Look,” he said amicably, “there’s going to be a period of adjustment. I get that. If we’re going to make this work, then we need to get things out in the open.”

She was on her guard again. “What things?” she asked.

“Things that bother us about the other person.”

She could feel his eyes on her. It made her feel like squirming. So much for a truce. She would still hang on to the hope that this collaboration of theirs was only temporary.

Kendra made a right turn at the next corner. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“Okay, I’m game.”

Pushing down on the gas, she flew through the next light just as it was turning red. She wanted to spend as little time in close quarters with this man as possible. For some reason, he seemed to deplete her oxygen supply. “Why don’t we just see if we can find out who killed Summer Miller and just where Ryan Burnett ultimately ran off to.”

He laughed shortly. Yeah, that was definitely another option. “You mean just work the case.”

Kendra continued to look straight ahead as she drove. “I mean just work the case.”

Abilene tempered the sarcastic retort that rose to his lips. “It might surprise you to know, but that was what I was doing when you asked me what I was doing,” he told her.

Kendra blew out a breath. Maybe the key to surviving this union was to exchange as few words as possible—and to keep to well-ventilated areas. “Point taken. Okay, Abilene, as you were.”

He grinned. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Kendra wondered just how long she had to wait before she could officially request a change of partners without having the chief think that she was being unreasonable.

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