out and sign.” She offered him a perfunctory smile that remained strictly on her lips and didn’t reach her eyes. “On behalf of Mr. Shepherd and Mr. Rineholdt, welcome to Rainbow’s End.” At least for now, she added silently as she led the way back into the office.
Half an hour later, his fingers cramping from the writing he’d just done, Jared got in behind the wheel of the slightly less than pristine electric-blue Mustang the department had him driving these days.
He breathed a sigh of relief, glad that was over. Women didn’t generally prove to be an obstacle for him. But this boss lady hadn’t been as easy as he’d thought she’d be, he thought as he started up his car. It coughed and then rumbled awake. He missed his sporty convertible, but that didn’t go with the image he was trying to project. That of someone working his way up.
Backing out of the parking lot, Jared pointed his vehicle straight for his uncle’s house. He had a lot to do before tomorrow.
It was a lucky break that the fire had begun when it had, otherwise he wasn’t all that certain that the lady with the killer body and drop-dead long legs would have hired him. At least, not without a great deal more persuasion from him. She’d looked reluctant in her office before that girl had screamed. But then he’d always had more than his share of luck, he mused, turning up the sound on the radio. The station was playing a song he liked and he let the beat energize him.
The odd thing was, the reluctance Maren Minnesota had displayed seemed to have been immediate, before she’d looked at his credentials. She’d already seen his résumé, so her problem with him couldn’t have been anything on the paper, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked him to interview in the first place.
He wondered if she was naturally leery of strangers or if she was reacting to something specific about him. An amused smile played on his lips. His song was over, but he left the volume on high, letting the music surround him. Maybe the woman had a keen sixth sense when it came to undercover detectives, he mused. The idea no sooner came to him than he frowned. He sure as hell hoped that wasn’t it. Anonymity was the name of the game.
But then, who knew how she figured into all of this. She could be the ringleader to the restaurant’s criminal operation. Just because she looked melt-in-your-mouth delectable didn’t mean she didn’t have the brains of a master criminal. Being a woman had never gotten in the way of people like Catherine de Médicis and Lucrezia Borgia.
Everyone was a suspect until he sorted this latest assignment out.
Right now, he wanted one last brush-up lesson from his uncle. It never hurt to be too prepared when dealing with criminals.
He’d downloaded the Rainbow’s End menu, both lunch and dinner, off the Internet last night. He’d familiarized himself with all the ingredients that went into preparing every dish. Overkill, maybe, but when his life might be on the line, it didn’t hurt to wear suspenders and a belt.
To counterbalance that, his nature demanded that he take risks and play long shots, but never at the beginning of an assignment. Then he wanted to make sure all his ducks were in a row and swimming to the best of their ability.
After taking the freeway for one exit, Jared got off. Midday traffic was light in this part of town. His luck was holding.
Out of all the Cavanaughs, he supposed he was the best cook. Not counting Uncle Andrew, of course. Andrew Cavanaugh, former chief of the Aurora California police department and family patriarch, had put himself through school working as a short-order cook. After his wife Rose had disappeared over fifteen years ago, Andrew had taken over the duties of both parents. His cooking improved. And once he retired from the force, his talents continued to flourish.
Things hadn’t changed when his wife was found last year, not in some shallow grave or in the river, the way everyone feared, but suffering from amnesia.
These days, Jared thought with a warm smile, his uncle and aunt sometimes competed for control of the kitchen. No one had the heart to tell Aunt Rose that Uncle Andrew could cook rings around her. But then, in his opinion, no one could hold a candle to Uncle Andrew.
He’d been taking lessons from Andrew these past two weeks. Ever since this assignment had come to light. At the time, the assistant chef at Rainbow’s End hadn’t left his position yet. But the man had come to the police department with very grave suspicions and some very serious allegations.
What the man had to say had been heard and duly noted. The chef had then been persuaded to take a leave of absence from work citing a sudden “family emergency.”
And he was the man the department had sent to fill the vacancy, Jared thought as he drove past a strip mall to the light. The other three applicants for the job had been from the police force as well. His father, the current chief of detectives, Brian Cavanaugh, was taking no chances. He was loading the deck, not wanting to lose the opening that the department had arranged in the first place.
The others were good, but he was better, Jared thought with absolutely no conceit. He was born for this kind of work. Making a right, he drove into his uncle’s development. There was no doubt about it. He had a passion for undercover work, for never being the same person twice. It turned each day into a challenge and he liked challenges. They kept him on his toes, kept him from getting stale.
Jared pulled up into the driveway of the house where he’d had breakfast just a few hours ago. Making breakfast for not only his immediate family but his extended one as well was a ritual his uncle had insisted on over the past dozen years or so. Never more so than now when his own five children—all detectives on the Aurora Police Force—had left the “nest” to begin their own families.
No doubt about it, they were dropping like flies, Jared mused as he got out of the Mustang. His cousins, all seven of them, even his older brother Dax, had all succumbed to the lure of marriage.
But not him, he thought. Never him. Marriage wasn’t something that had ever fit in with his plans, much less held any appeal for him. He liked meeting new women, being with new women.
Like that one he’d met today.
But he was getting ahead of himself. First the bust, then the rewards, if there were to be any.
Jared knocked on the back door and then tried the doorknob. As always, the door was unlocked. Jared walked into the kitchen, which somehow always managed to have warm, delicious smells permeating the air.
You’d think that the former chief of police would take a more aggressive stand toward safeguarding his house, Jared thought not for the first time.
“Uncle Andrew,” he called out. “It’s Jared. I thought maybe I’d squeeze in one last lesson unless you’re too busy.”
A man of average height and in his fifties, still in very good shape for his age, appeared almost immediately in the opposite doorway. A patient, genial smile was on his lips. These days his uncle looked more like a professor than a policeman, Jared thought.
“Cooking is an ongoing process,” Andrew informed him as he walked into the room. “There is never a ‘last lesson.’”
Rose was right behind her husband. From the slightly ruffled appearance of her clothing, Jared had a sneaking suspicion that maybe his unscheduled appearance had interrupted something. Rose caught his eye and shook her head, as if to tell him not to say anything. Humoring her husband, she gave her nephew a wink. “You keep learning until you’re taken off to that big kitchen in the sky.”
“Amen to that,” Andrew chimed in, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, an opportunity he’d professed he was never going to take for granted, not even until his dying day.
With a grin, Jared cleared his throat. “Well, I’m not about to be taken off to the big kitchen in the sky, but I am short on time….”
Andrew laughed. “Then I guess we’d better get to it.” And they did.
Chapter 2
The nature of Detective Jared Cavanaugh’s