Cavanaugh Cold Case

“You’re welcome,” Kristin murmured as she lowered her eyes back to the partially reconstructed skeleton on the table before her.

Which was why she failed to be prepared for what came next. By the time she realized what was happening, it was too late.

Caught up in the moment, Malloy bracketed her shoulders between his hands and delivered a very enthusiastic and yet innocent kiss to her cheek.

The next second, he had released her and quickly crossed the floor, getting halfway to the door.

“I’ll get back to you,” he promised half a second before he was gone.

Kristin stared at the opened door, stunned. Half of her was hoping that he would live up to his promise—and half of her really hoped that he wouldn’t.

* * *

Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting series: Cavanaugh Justice— Where Aurora’s finest are always in action…

www.millsandboon.co.uk

USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author MARIE FERRARELLA has written more than two hundred and fifty books for Mills & Boon, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.

To

Reta Renner

Who Can Pronounce

Cacti and Succulent Names

That Make My Tongue Ache

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Josephine Alberghetti placed an overly generous portion of lasagna in front of her daughter, then sighed as she took a seat opposite her.

“Mom, you’ve been sighing like that since I walked in through the door ten minutes ago. What’s up?” Dr. Kristin Alberghetti asked her mother.

Josephine pressed her lips together, as if hesitating to give voice to what was fairly bursting to come out. The next moment, the hesitation was over, just as Kristin knew it would be. Drama and her mother were best friends.

“When you first came to me and told me that you wanted to be a doctor, I was so proud I thought I would just burst,” Josephine told her only child. “I wasn’t sure how we were going to pay for it with your father, God rest his soul, gone, but I remember being so very, very proud—and determined to help you reach your dream. I was willing to work my fingers to the bone, putting in twenty hours a day to make my little girl’s dream come true.”

Kristin knew where this was going. The same place that it had gone before.

“Uncle Gasper lent you the money, Mom,” Kristin reminded her mother patiently. “Actually, he gave you most of it.”

Though her father’s uncle had fought her, Kristin had stubbornly insisted on paying the man back. It hadn’t been easy, but she did it, taking and holding down jobs whenever she could while going to medical school. Through extreme dedication and concentrated energy, at the sacrifice of her social life, she’d managed to graduate ahead of time, thanks to an accelerated program.

But this wasn’t about her mother’s sacrifices—of which she would have been the first to say that there were a legitimate number. This was about something else. And Kristin had a very strong feeling she knew what that “something else” was.

Kristin and her mother were seated at the table in the kitchen where she had spent her first seventeen years. She had only a little time to spare and had actually popped in to visit in the middle of the morning—taking a couple of hours of personal time—because her mother had complained about being neglected. Feeling guilty, Kristin had juggled a few things, put a couple more on hold and then dashed over.

Kristin’s grandmother, Sophia, a fixture in her life for as far back as she could remember, was also there. Kristin exchanged glances with the older woman now. She knew what was coming, as did her grandmother. Out of respect for her mother—because she knew how frustrated Josephine Alberghetti felt—Kristin kept her silence. But it wasn’t easy.

“But why you took all that wonderful knowledge,” Josephine was saying, “and training and practically just threw it out the window to become a medical examiner, poking around inside of dead people, is really, really beyond me.” She looked at her daughter pleadingly. “Can’t you just go into private practice? Think of the good you could be doing.”

“I am doing good, Mom,” Kristin told her mother. This certainly wasn’t the first time they had done this dance, but her mother seemed to refuse to remember her good reasons for choosing this route. She patiently repeated one. “I’m bringing closure to a great many families who need answers.”