A Cavanaugh Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

the chief of Ds or not, as long as it didn’t get in the way of her finding the little girl.
    The term family feud was far too leading as far as Tom was concerned. He knew Brian Cavanaugh from two brief meetings. Both times he’d been part of a group. He’d accompanied his father and his siblings when they had gone over to the former chief of police’s rambling and surprisingly welcoming house.
    During those two times he’d exchanged perhaps half a dozen words with Brian Cavanaugh, perhaps less.
    But of course he knew the man by reputation. Everyone did. Brian Cavanaugh was a fair man and a good leader, never asking anyone to do anything that he wouldn’t do himself. Those closest to him—not just his family but also the officers who served under him—would gladly follow him to hell and back if he asked.
    Outside of a handful of criminals, the man had no known enemies. Everyone respected and liked the chief of detectives. And even though Tom wasn’t as reluctant to be assimilated by the Cavanaugh clan as some of his brothers and sisters were, he still wanted to do it at his own pace, on his own terms. As Popeye had so eloquently put it, he’d quipped to his father after the first en masse meeting, “I am what I am and that’s all that I am.” And changing his surname from one thing to another made no difference to the man he was deep down at the core.
    In like fashion, he always had and still did like to have a vote when it came to things that affected his life, be it privately or in the field. And, in this case, what it boiled down to was that he didn’t like not being consulted before being thrust headlong into this investigation.
    In essence he was being shipped off to wet-nurse this woman-with-a-mission, and no one had asked him whether or not he had any objections to his new assignment.
    Now who’s acting as if he has a chip on his shoulder? a small voice in his head wanted to know. He was irritated with himself and with the fact that he’d allowed his reaction to show enough so that even this stranger had taken notice.
    “No,” he replied quietly. “Just going through a period of adjustment, that’s all.”
    She glanced at him, puzzled. “You lost me.”
    No such luck, Tom thought, the thin smile on his lips never wavering. She might not be a Native American by blood, but she looked as if she knew how to track a man through a snowstorm. Something about her demeanor told him she had the tenacity of a bulldog when it came to following a trail.
    He supposed she’d already proved that, since she’d tracked down the kidnapper’s van to the point of origin. All they needed right now were some answers, and as long as she was right about the van, they might just be lucky enough to get those answers. Quickly.
    “Long story.” He tossed off the words carelessly, hoping she’d take the hint and drop the subject.
    She slanted a look in his direction. He couldn’t tell if that was amusement or impatience on her face. Probably the latter. “Part of the one you’re saving for a rainy day?”
    He nodded. “One and the same.”
    There were windows running along the length of the back wall. She looked in their direction just before they left the squad room. “How often does it rain here?”
    “Not often,” he answered. “Although, when it does, it usually rains in the winter—and then it pours.” They had an official rainy season—when it rained at all, which hadn’t been often these past few years.
    “Weatherman forecasts sun for the next week,” she told him. Kaitlyn had checked that online just before coming here. She had wanted to be as prepared as she could for any and all possibilities.
    “That’s what we pay him to do,” Tom quipped, tongue in cheek.
    Just as he began to cross the threshold out into the hallway, Tom found he had to back up a little instead. Brian Cavanaugh had just gotten off the elevator and was on his way into the squad room at the same time.
    Since two objects