“Is there anything you want me to do?”

  It wasn’t in Cheyenne to just stand around doing nothing. Besides, if she kept busy, she wouldn’t feel tempted by her partner, which at the moment, she was.

  “Why don’t you just make yourself comfortable?” Jefferson offered.

  “Besides that.”

  Jefferson’s smile widened as his eyes washed over her. “Nothing that can bear repeating in mixed company.” And then he caught himself. “I shouldn’t have even said that.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

  The remark tempted him. “So what will you hold against me?”

  Heaven help her but her heart began to pound really hard and breathing grew a good deal harder to regulate.

  “What do you want me to hold against you?”

  His eyes were already making love to her.

  “Guess,” he said to her.

  With that, he took her into his arms and ever so slowly, he brought his lips down to hers. The growing hunger within him seemed to just explode in his veins, all but consuming every last bit of him.

  Dear Reader,

  You are holding in your hands a book I wasn’t at all sure I could do justice to. You have to understand that I have been writing and making up stories ever since I was eleven years old. This year, I fell victim to long COVID not once, not twice, but three times and suddenly, never mind the story, my mind had gone MIA. However, I refused to give up.

  I don’t know if I mentioned it previously (I probably did because I have a habit of repeating myself even when my mind is clear) but I am Polish. Polish women are exceedingly stubborn and we refuse to give up. EVER. I knew I had a serial killer story in me somewhere and although it took me longer to create and put down, I was positive that I could. Searching for it not only kept me sane, it also helped me recall all the fundamentals I always held near and dear to my heart (yes, writing about serial killers, doing love scenes and writing dialogue that I prayed would entertain my reader). If this story doesn’t work for you, please don’t let me know until I manage to write something you do enjoy reading.

  Until then, I do thank you for reading and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back. (Thank God I have someone like that. I don’t know what I would have done without him.)

  With love,

  Marie Ferrarella

  CAVANAUGH JUSTICE: COLD CASE SQUAD

  Marie Ferrarella

  USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author Marie Ferrarella has written more than three hundred books for Harlequin, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, marieferrarella.com.

  Books by Marie Ferrarella

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  Cavanaugh Justice

  Cavanaugh Vanguard

  Cavanaugh Cowboy

  Cavanaugh’s Missing Person

  Cavanaugh Stakeout

  Cavanaugh in Plain Sight

  Cavanaugh Justice: The Baby Trail

  Cavanaugh Justice: Serial Affair

  Cavanaugh Justice: Deadly Chase

  Cavanaugh Justice: Up Close and Deadly

  Cavanaugh Justice: Detecting a Killer

  Cavanaugh Justice: Cold Case Squad

  The Coltons of New York

  Colton’s Unusual Suspect

  Visit the Author Profile page at

  Harlequin.com for more titles.

  THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED

  TO

  PATIENCE BLOOM

  WITH A GREAT DEAL OF LOVE AND THANKS

  FOR BEING SO KIND AND PATIENT

  AND FOR MAKING ME FEEL

  LIKE THE LUCKIEST WRITER

  ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Texas Law: Lethal Encounter by Jennifer D. Bokal

  Prologue

  You never thought that I would ever amount to anything, did you, Aunt Lily? the man asked sharply, his voice as taunting as he had once felt his aunt’s had sounded. An ugly smile curved his mouth. Well, I certainly fooled you, didn’t I? The kid you always referred to as being such a big loser didn’t turn out to be a loser after all, did he?

  Jon Murphy regarded the face of the woman in the picture on his desk.

  He felt that the face was actually looking back at him. He could almost read her thoughts.

  It was a big deal for him, keeping that framed photograph right there in front of him. There were times when he would have been a lot happier just hurling it, frame and all, across the room—if not into the garbage altogether.

  But he knew that he needed the photograph. One, because he didn’t want to answer a lot of questions about what had happened to it—people were incredibly nosy—and two, because it reminded him of his purpose and what he was doing here in the first place. Not in the classroom, but on earth.

  His handsome face darkened as he thought about it. However, for once, he was at peace staring at the image of his late aunt.

  For now.

  For now because his appetite had been satisfied. But Jon Albert Murphy knew better than anyone that, at best, this was an extremely fleeting set of circumstances. His insatiable appetite to kill another woman would be back in full force before he could come to terms with it. It always ate away at him long before he was ready to eliminate the source of his anger.

  A day lecturer, Murphy was sitting in his cubbyhole of an office—an insult to his honor as far as he was concerned—with the door closed. Even so, the lecturer was carrying on the discussion with the photograph entirely in his head. It wasn’t the sort of “conversation” that he could risk having out loud, not when there was a chance that one of his students—or any student, really—could come walking into his office and overhear him.

  For the most part, the students who attended Aurora Valley College were a rude bunch of wet-behind-the-ears kids, he thought angrily. Not at all like he had been at their age. He had learned early on, thanks to Aunt Lily, to keep to himself. And to never speak unless he was spoken to—and at times, not even then, because he might find himself the target of someone’s unabashed wrath.

  But then, the people who frequented the lecture hall where he spoke and the classroom where he taught hadn’t been raised by his mother’s aunt Lily. Aunt Lily who had used her razor-sharp tongue to create countless bleeding holes in his self-esteem from the very moment she had become his guardian.

  Murphy remembered how stunned he had been when he discovered that his white trash mother had decided that she didn’t want to be saddled with him any longer. That was when Aunt Lily had stepped up to take over.

  At the time, he had been too naïve to understand why Aunt Lily had volunteered to do that. He had just thought that the woman was being kind to him. But he had learned all too quickly that that wasn’t the case.

  It had been his last innocent thought.

  And then, for a moment, the lecturer smiled to himself. Murphy was more than willing to bet that, in the end, Aunt Lily wound up regretting the decision she had made to be his guardian. Things hadn’t exactly turned out the way she had planned.

  Murphy sighed, resigned, as he looked back at the paper he had half-heartedly been attempting to read. These so-called “students” who attended Aurora Valley College, they were all a bunch of hopeless illiterates. Sometimes he couldn’t help wondering why he bothered wasting his time with them.

  But then, he thought, he knew exactly why he was doing this. Not to be dazzled by the magnitude of someone’s brain. That was definitely not the reason why he had applied to Aurora Valley College for the position of lecturer in the English Department when it had come up.

  He had come to the two-year college for an entirely different reason—a different agenda.

  He had come here looking for another sort of gratification. One that Aurora Valley College had been able to provide him with.

  Several times over, Murphy recalled with an eerie smile that would have unsettled anyone who looked at it.

  Shifting, Murphy tried to make himself comfortable in the hand-me-down office chair he had inherited along with the desk. It was an impossible task as far as he was concerned. Another insult in his eyes.

  The chair creaked as he leaned back in it and continued to read the incredibly dull paper. He could almost feel his eyes closing.

  Talk about boring, he thought in disgust.

  Murphy was surprised that he could read it and somehow still manage to remain awake. It was rea
lly a constant battle just to keep his eyes open.

  Little by little, he forced himself to shift his mind to the events he was anticipating happening later on this evening, after classes were over. Later this evening was when he was supposed to get together with Mrs. Lauren Dixon. The vivacious older blonde had asked him for help with her next paper. She had told him that she anticipated problems. Right.

  As she made the request, the restaurant waitress had even blushed a little.

  Like he didn’t even know what was going on.

  The corners of his mouth curved as he thought about meeting the woman in some little-frequented, off-campus location. Now all he had to do was decide if tonight was going to be the night when he made his move, or if he was going to put it off until some later date, anticipating the way it would feel.

  Sometimes, he told himself, waiting for that final moment was half the fun.

  Anticipation, Murphy thought as his pulse sped up and his smile widened, could be everything.

  He finished reading the paper he was holding quickly, then decided to award it a giant C plus, far more than the execution was worth in his opinion. Who knew, he might want to cultivate some goodwill with this student at a later date as well.

  No stone unturned, he decided with a wicked smile.

  Chapter 1

  Detective Cheyenne Cavanaugh shifted uncomfortably at her desk and frowned. Up until this point, she had thought that her partner was only talking. Wade did have a tendency to do that. Realizing that he wasn’t definitely put a damper on her newly appointed position of police detective. She didn’t want to do this without him. It was like attempting to cross the high wire without a net.

  “Are you sure about this—really sure?” she asked the man she had been partnered with since she had first walked into the Cold Case Department. Back then, she had not actually been Wade Jessup’s partner—she had been more or less his underling. The one who had willingly run his errands in exchange for the privilege of learning from the old-time veteran.

  Oh, granted, she could have just as easily learned from one of her siblings or her cousins, or even her uncles. Heaven knew there was no shortage of law enforcement agents milling around at any of the numerous family gatherings that she had attended over the years, or at the actual precinct. But Wade had provided a rather unique take on the job, and to her way of thinking, the more perspectives she was exposed to, the larger her field of learning became. She was like the proverbial thirsty sponge, soaking it all up as quickly as she was exposed to it.

  The corners of Wade’s mouth curved spasmodically as he looked at her.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” he answered in that raspy voice she had come to instantly recognize and gravitate toward. “I’m sorry, kid, but it’s already a done deal,” he told her. “The furniture is all in the moving van and I’ve packed all my bags. Actually,” the man corrected himself, “Beth was the one who packed my bags.” He laughed under his breath. “She said if she left it up to me to do, it would take another six months, if not longer, and she’s just chomping at the bit to get going.” Wade smiled kindly as he looked at his young partner. “Don’t forget, Arkansas is home to her.”

  “But it’s not home to you, Wade,” Cheyenne insisted, pointing the fact out sullenly.

  Wade’s thin shoulders rose and then fell in a careless shrug. “So I’ll adjust. Don’t forget, I adjusted to you, didn’t I, kid?” he asked her with a laugh, trying to bring her around as he made his point.

  Her eyes met Wade’s. “Hell, Wade, I was easy to adjust to,” she told her partner defensively.

  “Ha! You think so, huh?” Wade remarked with a laugh. And then his expression softened just a little as he looked at her. “Don’t worry, kid. You’ll adjust to your new partner, whoever he or she might be, in no time flat,” Wade told her. “I guarantee it.”

  Cheyenne sighed, far from won over. “Damn it, Wade, I barely adjusted to you,” she remembered aloud, recalling the early days of their partnership. And then she looked at him, attempting to appeal to the older man’s sense of fair play. “Are you sure you can’t talk your wife into staying?”

  Wade eyed Cheyenne incredulously as he laughed at Cheyenne’s suggestion under his breath. “Hell, kid, you’ve met Beth. Did she strike you as someone who could be talked into anything she didn’t want to be talked into?” he asked the young woman he had referred to—more than once—as the best partner he had ever had.

  Cheyenne did not answer his question, or at least she did not answer it directly. Instead, she made a request. “Let me have a crack at her, Wade.”

  “Not on your life,” he told her with a laugh. “I know what you can be like and I want to go on living a little longer once I transfer to that precinct in Arkansas,” he told Cheyenne. Slipping his arm around Cheyenne’s shoulders, he gave her a quick, friendly hug. “It’ll be all right,” he promised her.

  Cheyenne raised her chin as if she took his words to be a challenge. “And if it’s not?” she asked. “Then what?”

  Wade laughed that raspy laugh of his that she was going to miss sorely. “You’ll box their ears,” he declared knowingly. “And don’t worry, my money’s on you, kid.”

  Cheyenne frowned. Deeply. Her slender eyebrows knitted together, forming a straight line. “I really wish that I had your confidence,” she informed her about-to-be-former partner.

  “That’s because you’re also not conceited, which is something you’ve always had to your credit,” he pointed out confidently. And then he told her with a wide smile, “Anyone who gets partnered with you is going to be a damn lucky person, kid. Trust me on that.”

  “As I remember it, that wasn’t the way you saw it when you initially found out that that the chief of d’s was making me your new partner.”

  “Initially,” Wade conceded with a nod of his head. “But what I was actually attempting to do was keep you on your toes.” Wade’s brown eyes met hers as he confided, “There’s nothing more off-putting than working with someone who has a huge ego the size of a giant pizza.”

  “I didn’t have a huge ego,” Cheyenne protested.

  A smile graced his lips as Wade shrugged his shoulders. “If you say so, kid,” he told her cavalierly. And then his expression softened a little as he looked at her. “You’re Cheyenne Cavanaugh,” he reminded the young woman. “You can—and will—get through this.”

  “Detective Cheyenne Cavanaugh,” she corrected him. The title still felt very new to her and she loved the sound of it and that the word detective rolled off her tongue as easily as it did. Lord knew it took a great deal of studying for her to earn the title.

  “See?” Wade asked as he picked up the briefcase he had just finished stuffing with all his remaining miscellaneous papers. He smiled at Cheyenne. “It’s just as I predicted. You’re getting through it already.”

  She knew she could, but it would definitely take her a while. It was not about to happen in a blink of an eye. “I’d get through it better if you stayed,” she said in all seriousness.

  Wade patted his partner’s shoulder. There was compassion in his eyes. He knew that change wasn’t easy for some and Cheyenne numbered among those.

  “I would if I could, Cheyenne, but I can’t.” He smiled at her. “You’ll do fine, kid. My money’s on you. It always has been,” he told her with no shortage of confidence. And then he looked at his watch. It was time for him to wrap this all up or contrary to what he had said, he might never leave. “Well, I’ve got to go, Cheyenne. Beth’s picking me up and she hates it when I’m late.”

  Cheyenne had a sudden thought. “Could Beth come up here to come get you? I’d like to say goodbye to her as well,” Cheyenne told him, getting somewhat creative when it came to making excuses for him not to leave.

  The expression on Wade’s face told his former partner that he saw right through her. Not bothering with a somber expression, Wade laughed out loud at the suggestion that Cheyenne had just given him. The look he gave her all but asked if she actually thought that was going to work.

  “Oh no, I’m not about to ask Beth to come up here. Senility has not set in yet,” Wade told her. And then he paused beside her and like a doting uncle her gave her cheek a very quick kiss. “Take care of yourself, kid,” he told her. His expression softened as he looked into her face. “You really were a great partner.” He gave her arm a quick squeeze. “I’ll send you my address and you can send me a line or two about how things are going whenever you have some free time and get the chance.”