he was that better man. He didn’t thank her for proving otherwise. He tore his gaze away from the forest-green suit she was wearing, trying hard not to think about how it seemed to have been stitched directly onto her body. He usually gave less than a damn about his suits or how they fit, but she made him feel exceedingly rumpled. One more point against her.
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, ignoring that he was long overdue for a haircut, and sat behind his desk. He was hip deep in the city’s most sensational murder investigation in years. The last thing he had time for was the testosterone tango. And he had less than no time to play with someone like Erin Mahoney. She’d obviously spent the last twenty years honing her warrior skills to dangerously new, and exceedingly feminine, heights.
“So, what does the mayor want to know?” he asked. Business, this was going to be all business. Short, not-too-sweet, and over. “And since when are you working for him?”
“He wants to know exactly what you know about who killed Morton Sanderson and why. And since about nine-fifteen this morning when he hired my firm to help him out with his little…media concern.”
“Firm? You have a firm?”
“You’re not the only one who grew up and got a responsible job, O’Keefe. I’m in public relations. Mahoney and Briggs. Perhaps you’ve heard of us?”
Public relations? Terror Mahoney? He’d have laughed, except one look at her expression told him she was waiting for exactly that. So he shrugged. “Sorry, no, I haven’t.”
She shrugged as well, not remotely offended. “We’re small, but we have a solid reputation.”
“What is it, exactly, that you do?”
“I’m a consultant. People hire me for all kinds of reasons. Self-promotion, business promotion, media liaison—”
“Ah. A spin doctor.”
Her smooth expression didn’t falter. “In this case, it’s my job to make sure said media doesn’t turn this thing with Sanderson into some kind of salacious, kinky-sex droolathon.” At his look of disbelief, she amended, “Okay, more than they already have.” She lifted a hand. “I’m not here to make your life difficult.”
Now he had to laugh. “At no time in our mutual past history have you done anything but make my life as difficult as possible. The only change I see now is that you’re getting paid to do it.” He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Nice work if you can get it.”
“It is nice work,” she retorted with a smile. “And I get paid quite well, thank you.” She shifted in her seat and he worked damn hard to keep his gaze squarely on her face. “And because I get paid quite well, I take that job very seriously,” she went on. “I won’t be a disruption as long as you keep an open line of communication with me. All you have to do is report to me everything you discover, as you discover it, so I can prepare all public statements that come from both this precinct and the mayor’s office. No one is to talk to any member of the press unless they clear it with me first.”
“Says who?”
“Says me. With the mayor’s blessing, of course.”
“Well, you’ll have to talk with the commissioner.”
“I believe the mayor has already done that.”
Brady swore under his breath. Commissioner Douglas had been appointed by Henley, and with the mayor up for reelection, that meant Douglas had become his number-one patsy. To hell with what was right or wrong, it was all about job security now.
“Consider me your liaison.” She recrossed her legs. “If you think about it, O’Keefe, I’m actually here to make your life easier. You won’t have to deal with the press at all. You’ll only have to deal with me.”
Brady simply stared at her. She was truly amazing. And insane if she thought he was going to go along with this plan like a good little boy. “I never thought I could be given a set of choices that would make me think dealing directly with the press was the preferable option.”
Nothing seemed to faze her. Her smile was honest and direct. “Don’t make it sound so bad, Detective. I’m sure we’ll make this work with a minimum of fuss.”
“You are truly an optimist then.” He shoved back his chair and stood.
For the first time, she looked a bit off balance. Good. He’d have to remember how he did that. He had a feeling he’d need to use it. Repeatedly.
“Wait a minute, I need to go over your reports so far.” There was a touch of nervousness in her voice now as she watched him clear his desk.
“I need to go home and get some sleep.” He scooped up the case files and piled them into a side drawer, then locked it. He dropped the keys in his shirt pocket, pausing by her chair as he rounded the desk. “And if you plan to accompany me to bed in hopes I talk in my sleep, I’ll save you the effort.”
“But—”
“Good night, Ms. Mahoney. Tell Mayor Henley that I’ll file my report with my captain as soon as I’m ready. Until then, he can contact Commissioner Douglas if he has any questions about the investigation.” Brady decided he’d rather deal with them directly than go through her anyway. And he was certain that confrontation would come sooner rather than later. But it wasn’t right now, and that was all he cared about at the moment.
He lifted a finger when she opened her mouth to speak. “As for the press, don’t worry. As a rule, I don’t talk to anyone about any of my cases. Ever.” His pointed look at her was clearly understood.
He was halfway across the room when he realized she wasn’t dogging his heels as he’d expected. At no time had Terror Mahoney ever given up easily. So he stopped and turned back. His grin widened. She didn’t disappoint. She was looking at the tag board where the officers hung keys to the squad cars when not in use, only she wouldn’t know what those keys were for.
“Mahoney,” he called out, causing her to swing around. He had to give it to her, she managed to look totally innocent. About as innocent as a barracuda in a school of guppies, he thought, but there was no resentment in it. Quite the opposite actually. But then, he was no guppy. He patted his pocket. “I’ve got the only set.” He saluted her. “Good night.”
With a rueful smile, she saluted him back.
He left the squad room feeling her eyes on his back. All up and down his back for that matter. His neck grew red, but he found himself smiling as he walked out to his car.
2
ERIN MAHONEY WATCHED with more than a little appreciation as Brady O’Keefe strolled across the street toward city hall. He looked good. Better than good, she amended as he drew closer, noticing he’d shaved.
Until he’d walked through that door last night, she’d had no idea Brady worked for the police department. In fact, she hadn’t even thought of him in years. But the surprise had been a pleasant one. She was fairly certain Brady did not share that sentiment.
Of course, thinking back, he had every reason to be wary. She’d been a real handful as a child. She’d come from a large family, middle child
