told him just before she proceeded to quickly stride toward the captain’s office.
Unlike Lieutenant Carver, the man who oversaw Major Crimes had his door open despite the fact that he was still on the phone.
It was like watching an accident waiting to happen, Davis thought, perched on the corner of his desk as he looked across the room and observed her.
He fully expected to hear Ryan’s voice come booming across the office once the almost annoyingly perky blonde began to state her case to ask for him on loan for the surreal purpose of looking into a case of possible grave robbery.
But five, then ten minutes went by and the walls did not shake, nor did Ryan’s door rattle.
Davis continued to watch his temporary partner in mounting fascination.
Twelve minutes after she entered Ryan’s inner sanctum, she came out again, an even wider smile—if possible—on her lips.
“Well?” he asked her somewhat skeptically once she reached him.
“Well, you’ve got a very nice captain,” she told him, a glint of mischief in her diamond-blue eyes. “Oh, and you’re mine for the next forty-eight hours,” she added as if that bit of information amounted to just an afterthought instead of the crux of her visit.
Mike Manetti, one of the oldest detectives in the Major Crimes squad—and some felt way overdue to embrace retirement—grinned broadly at him as he and his very temporary partner passed by his less than tidy desk.
“Lucky so-and-so,” Manetti quipped, keeping his assessment clean because of the woman with the notoriously taciturn detective.
Moira smiled at the white-haired, older detective. “I doubt he thinks so,” she said as if confiding in Manetti.
“Then Gilroy’s a slower learner than I gave him credit for,” Manetti told her with a pronounced wink. “Make the most of this, boy. Make the most of this,” Manetti advised, raising his voice so that it followed both of them out into the hall.
Davis deliberately ignored what Manetti had just said. Instead, he thought of his captain and the cheerful expression on the other man’s face.
“What the hell did you say to Ryan?” Davis asked.
He’d been fairly convinced that the captain, in the final analysis, would turn down her request, which would have admittedly put him back to square one, investigating whatever was going on at the cemetery alone. All in all, that was not exactly an unwelcome scenario even though he had already admitted to her that two heads were usually better than one.
“That my lieutenant would appreciate his cooperation in lending out one of his best detectives for this rather unique and hush-hush investigation into some unorthodox dealings at St. Joseph’s Cemetery. I mentioned that some of Aurora’s most prominent citizens had loved ones who were buried there and that they wanted this looked into and taken care of quickly and quietly.” And then that damnable grin of hers returned to momentarily sidetrack his attention. “Oh, and I might have also mentioned that my great-uncle sent his best.”
Davis looked at her suspiciously. Here it was; the crux of it. “Great-uncle?”
Moira didn’t even try to suppress the smile that spread across her face. “Yes. Brian Cavanaugh. He’s the Chief of—”
“Ds, yes, I know,” he all but snapped, saving her the trouble of making what he assumed was an announcement. His suspicions heightened. “I thought that you Cavanaughs made this big deal about climbing up through the ranks strictly on your own merits without relying on the Cavanaugh name or connections.”
“We do,” she informed him openly and surprisingly artlessly.
She was totally blowing his mind. Didn’t she hear the contradiction?
“Then what was that all about?” he asked, nodding back in the general direction of his captain’s office.
“That was using leverage to get you on the case. I’m already on it, remember?” she replied innocently.
“Okay.” He didn’t really accept that, but for now, he let it drop. “And what makes you think I’m one of Ryan’s ‘best’ detectives?” he asked, using the same term she had used earlier. Did she think she was endearing herself with this baseless flattery?
“You’d have to be,” she pointed out without an iota of guile. “With that wounded-bear attitude of yours, if you weren’t one of his best, you would have gotten yourself tossed out on your ear a long time ago.” She flashed a quick, spasmodic smile at him, adding, “That’s called deductive reasoning.”
His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “That’s called hot air,” Davis pointed out.
“Potato, potato,” she countered. “By the way,” she told him, completely devoid of fanfare or ego, “I’m primary on this.” It was best to lay down the ground rules right from the start.
Moira fully expected the detective to balk at that and was surprised when he merely shrugged.
“Figured you would be,” he commented.
Moira congratulated herself on containing her surprise. “Oh, and why’s that?”
“You brought the case to me, not the other way around.”
“I’ve got a hunch you don’t bring anything to anybody,” she couldn’t help saying. The man definitely wasn’t one of those kids whose report card read, “Works and plays well with others.”
Still, she had to admit that he intrigued her. Maybe even more than just a little.
Gilroy studied her for a prolonged moment and she had absolutely no idea what was going on in the detective’s head. She really hoped that this wasn’t going to be a regular thing while they worked together. Moira hated being in the dark about anything, especially when it came to her partner. Warner wasn’t a bundle of joy, but he was very predictable and that, in turn, made her feel confident.
“Maybe we will work together well, after all,” he exhorted.
That could have knocked her over with a feather. It was official. Detective Davis Gilroy was entirely unpredictable.
Clearing her throat, Moira moved on.
“Okay, first order of business, we take the elevator down. I get enough exercise first thing every morning jogging around this city for an hour.”
“Every morning?” he questioned, making it sound as if he found her claim suspect.
“That’s what I said.”
“Why?”
She gave him the same answer she gave herself every morning. “It wakes me up.”
“Getting out of bed should be able to do that for you,” he said drily.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” she quipped, her remark indicating that it clearly didn’t.
With that, she led the way to the far end
