Cavanaugh's Missing Person. Marie Ferrarella
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asked.
“I wasn’t,” he told her. “I was asking questions about the person whose body parts were spread out on the doc’s table.”
“John Kurtz,” she repeated, as if to drill the name into his head.
“So it would seem, but I didn’t know that at the time,” Hunter pointed out.
Brannigan was just trying to confuse her, something he had always taken far too much enjoyment in doing, Kenzie thought. She deliberately turned her back on him as she addressed the medical examiner.
“You were about to tell me about John Kurtz’s time of death, Doctor,” she prodded.
“As I told Detective Brannigan here, I still have to run more tests,” the doctor said, focusing on what he had on his table, “but my best guess is that your Mr. Kurtz has been dead for a week.”
“Where was he found?” she asked. “Who brought him in?”
The interest in her voice was obvious. It in turn piqued Hunter’s. He circled around Kenzie until he was facing her.
“Do you know him?” he asked.
“I know his daughter. She came in this morning to file a missing person report on him,” Kenzie answered stiffly, addressing her words to the doctor, not Hunter. She deliberately avoided making eye contact with the detective. “Who found him?” she asked again.
The medical examiner told them what he knew. “From what I gather, he—or at least the parts that you see here—was in a shallow grave that yesterday’s downpour washed up. A couple of kids playing in the mud made the discovery. Their rather hysterical mother called the police. The rest you know,” the doctor concluded.
“Where was this?” Kenzie asked.
“Along the border of Aurora Park,” the medical examiner answered.
“I’m taking a cadaver dog with me to the scene where the body parts were found,” Hunter told her, speaking up. “Care to come with me?”
This time she did look at him.
The first time she had ever heard of Hunter Brannigan, two of her brothers, Murdoch and Finn, were talking about how Brannigan had a different woman on his arm every time he went out. To hear them say it, Hunter ran on batteries and Southern Comfort, although, amazingly enough, he was also considered a damn good detective who had risen rather quickly through the ranks on his own merit. He was assigned to the Cold Case Division because the thinking was, if anyone could clear the old cases, Brannigan could.
Maybe, in another lifetime, they could have even been friends, despite his confident swagger. But she had terminated a rather painful engagement a little over two years ago, the details of which she had kept to herself. Her fiancé, Billy Gibson, had been a tomcat who’d had a weakness for prowling around despite all his promises to reform and be faithful. After his third transgression, she’d given him his walking papers. She hadn’t said anything to anyone because if her brothers had caught wind of why she’d broken the engagement off, they would have skinned Billy and proceeded to hang him from the highest flagpole.
Since then, Kenzie had been very leery of silver-tongued handsome men. That description fit Hunter Brannigan to a T.
“What interest do you have in John Kurtz?” Kenzie asked.
Hunter’s shimmering green eyes skimmed over her from top to bottom before he answered. “I don’t.”
He could make her lose her patience faster than any human being she had ever encountered, and that included Billy. Kenzie struggled now to hold on to her temper as she asked, “Then why would you be going to the scene where he was found?”
He slowly smiled at Kenzie, knowing that it annoyed her. He couldn’t explain why, but he really liked getting under her skin. “Let’s just say I have a real interest in the person who did this to him.”
“Why?” Kenzie demanded.
Hunter saw no reason to keep this a secret. Teasing Kenzie took a back seat to possibly solving a case—or at least getting one step closer to solving it.
“Because I think that my cold case might have been this guy’s first murder,” he told her.
“Why?” she repeated.
It was obvious to him that because of their past history, she was going to take some convincing. He had no problem with that.
“Because my cold case is missing his head and hands, too,” he told her. “Now, you’re welcome to come along, or you can stay here and I’ll let you know what I find—if I remember.”
He saw her eyes flash—just as he had expected them to. “This is my case, Brannigan,” she insisted.
“That’s not how I see it,” Hunter replied mildly.
“Now, now, children, play nice,” the medical examiner said. “I’ve got a feeling that there’s plenty enough here for both of you to share.”
Kenzie didn’t want to admit it—since Hunter was involved—but in all likelihood, the ME was right. But even so, she had no desire to team up with Hunter.
“I can take the dog,” she told Hunter.
The same infuriating smile was back on Hunter’s face. He dug in. “That’s not happening.”
She wasn’t about to have this devolve into a shouting match—and she had no intentions of letting Brannigan go without her.
Kenzie frowned. “I have to let my partner know where I’m going.”
“Go ahead and do that,” Hunter told her. “I’ve got to go to the K-9 unit and secure a dog.”
“They’re not going to just give you a dog,” she informed Hunter. “If nothing else, his handler has to come with the dog.”
“Even better,” Hunter commented. While he liked dogs, his involvement with canines ended with throwing a stick and having the dog chase it. Having someone along who knew what they were doing with canines was all good as far as he was concerned. “We’ll meet you out back once I make arrangements with the K-9 unit.”
A red flag went up in her head. Kenzie didn’t trust Brannigan to wait for her.
“I’ve got a better idea,” she told Hunter. “Why don’t you come with me up to Missing Persons so I can tell Choi where I’ll be and then I’ll come with you to the K-9 unit.”
She couldn’t tell what he was thinking until his eyes washed over her again. “This isn’t first grade, Cavanaugh. We really don’t need to pair up to walk through the halls,” he told her. “Although, I have to say that it does sound like it has potential.”
“Listen to her, Brannigan,” the ME advised. “She’s a Cavanaugh. They tend to get things done.”
“So do I, Doc,” Hunter answered. “But in the spirit of détente, I’ll bow to your wisdom,” he said, inclining his head.
Kenzie left the morgue quickly. But although she moved fast, Hunter kept up with her pace as if it took no effort on his part at all.
They reached the elevator together. She had no intention of saying anything to Hunter, but the silence within the car once they got on became almost unnervingly deafening. She could all but feel his eyes on her, taking inventory. And when she turned to look at the man she’d heard some of her friends refer to as a dark blond Adonis, she saw that he was smiling at her.
A rather wide smile.
“Why are you grinning, Brannigan?” she demanded.
His shrug was careless and utterly infuriating. “I guess I’m just a happy person.”
“Well, stop it,” she ordered. “You might enjoy looking like a happy idiot, but I have to tell someone I know that her father’s