Cavanaugh Cold Case Read Online Free Page A

and knew firsthand that it took a while for the kinks to work themselves out. Malloy was a good cop and ultimately an even better human being. The name of the game was patience.
    Sean, in turn, smiled at the young woman between his nephew and him. “I’m sure that Dr. Alberghetti will let us all know when she’s had time to formulate a scientific opinion regarding this unfortunate treasure trove of death that the construction crew stumbled across.”
    Easygoing almost to a fault, Brian Cavanaugh’s somewhat slightly older brother had just finished his sentence as a teeth-jarring, crowing sound pierced the air again.
    The closest thing to a dirty look passed over Sean’s face as he glanced over his shoulder. “Doesn’t that blasted bird ever just stop making noise and go to sleep? That’s the third time he’s crowed since we got here. Isn’t he supposed to be tuned in to some inner clock or something?”
    â€œI don’t know about an inner clock, but it’s too bad that he can’t talk,” Malloy commented, his eyes sweeping over the immediate area, then taking in the weather-battered trailer in the distance, as well. He had to be getting back to the unfriendly owner. “Maybe then he could give us some insight on what happened here.”
    â€œHe wouldn’t be able to,” Kristin said flatly, not bothering to look up. “Roosters live about ten years. Fifteen at most. These bodies all appear to be older than that.”
    Taken aback, Malloy looked at her quizzically. “You actually know how long roosters live?” He raised his eyes to meet his uncle’s. “Wow, she’s just a regular font of miscellaneous information, isn’t she?”
    Sean smiled in response. “She reads a lot in her downtime,” he told his nephew. “Although there isn’t going to be very much downtime in her immediate future, I’m afraid.”
    â€œShe also has excellent hearing,” Kristin interjected without pausing what she was doing.
    â€œMy apologies, Kristin,” Sean told her, willingly taking the blame. “That was rude.”
    This time Kristin did stop what she was doing. When she spoke, her words were addressed only to the older man, who she considered to be her mentor despite the fact that he had no medical degree.
    â€œYou could never be rude, sir. He, however,” she went on, casting one dismissive glance in Malloy’s direction, “is an entirely different story.”
    â€œOuch.” Malloy pretended to wince. “Moving right along—”
    â€œPlease, do,” Kristin murmured just audibly enough to be overheard.
    Roy Harrison picked that moment to approach the trio, a dark, impatient scowl all but embedded on his long, thin face. “Hey, when is she going to be finished?” he demanded, irritably waving his hand at Kristin.
    Kristin was about to speak up and put the sour-looking man in his place when she heard someone else doing it for her.
    â€œWhen she’s done,” Malloy informed the disgruntled new owner of the nursery in no uncertain terms, his tone far removed from his usual friendly cadence.
    Kristin looked at the detective in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to come to her defense. Part of her waited for Malloy to add, “Just kidding,” but he didn’t.
    â€œIs she going to keep on digging straight down to the other side of the world until she turns up all the bones from here to there?” Harrison retorted.
    â€œNope, just the ones that are buried along the perimeter of your property,” Sean told him pleasantly. His words didn’t match the chief’s expression.
    Apparently, Malloy thought, sarcasm was wasted on the nursery’s new owner, because he took the head of the CSI unit seriously.
    â€œMy bulldozer can go a lot faster,” Harrison told them.
    It didn’t take a brain surgeon to realize that the man’s only