Read Online Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahill 06] by Deadly Promise - Free Book Online Page A

“Headquarters hasn’t been the same without you, Miss Cahill,” he said.
    “I missed it, too,” she said, suddenly happy. This waswhere she belonged, in the midst of a criminal investigation, among these good, honest men.
    “Are you on a case?” Shea asked.
    “Yes, actually, I am. Is the commissioner in?”
    “He’s upstairs,” Shea said, glancing oddly at O’Malley. “I’ll go up and ask if he will see you.”
    Francesca was surprised. Shea walked out from behind the wood counter, going upstairs on foot, ignoring the iron cage of the elevator. She was accustomed to coming and going in police headquarters as she pleased; she had been going up to Bragg’s office without any formalities for months now.
    “It ain’t you,” O’Malley said, low. “The c’mish is in a mood, he is. No one’s ever seen him like this before.”
    Francesca stiffened. “A bad mood?”
    “Like a thunderstorm,” O’Malley said with a nod.
    Oh, dear. She certainly knew why he was in such a foul humor—she knew it was because of her engagement to his half brother.
    “And look at what the spring breeze blew in.”
    The tone was just barely hostile and just barely mocking. Nevertheless, as always, the sound of Brendan Farr’s voice curled the hair on her body, and even her toes. Francesca slowly turned to face the city’s recently appointed chief of police. She still did not know why he disliked her so, but their enmity had become mutual. “Hello, Chief.” She was terse.
    “Long time no see,” he said flatly. He was a very tall man, perhaps six-foot-four or even more, with steel-colored hair and steely eyes. He was smiling politely. Francesca had never, not even once, seen a smile in his eyes.
    “I have been out of town,” she said stiffly.
    “Really? Business or pleasure?” His smile remained.
    “Neither,” she said, smiling as coolly in return. She knew he wanted information, and she would never give it to him.
    “And what brings you to headquarters? Oh, let me guess. The commissioner—or is it another investigation?”
    The less this man knew about her affairs, the better. “I wish a word with the commissioner. I shall go up. Thank you, Sergeant. Good day, Chief.” Francesca did not wait to be told that she could go up. She quickly hurried past the two men, passed the holding cell, and went up the single flight of stairs.
    Captain Shea was approaching in the hallway; behind him, the door to Bragg’s office was open. He nodded at her. “He’ll see you—not that I had any doubt.”
    Francesca thanked him as Bragg appeared in the doorway of his office, staring. Her strides faltered.
    He was more than grim; he seemed tired and unkempt. Francesca saw circles beneath his eyes and lines around his mouth. Their gazes met.
    Her heart beat hard. Could she really marry his half brother? For Rick Bragg, married or not, would always be a dark shadow standing between them.
    He didn’t nod and he didn’t greet her. He turned and walked back into his office. Francesca followed.
    Nothing had changed. His desk was a huge affair, covered with files and folder. A rattan-backed chair was behind it, a window overlooking Mulberry Street behind that. On the mantel above the fireplace were numerous family photographs, as well as other, more impressive ones, including one of Bragg with both the mayor and Theodore Roosevelt. Francesca searched for a photograph of Bragg’s wife, but she was not to be found amid the ones of his father and adopted mother, his half brothers and sisters, his cousins, nieces, and nephews.
    And there was no photograph of Calder Hart, either. But Francesca hadn’t expected there to be one.
    Francesca removed her coat, hanging it carefully on a wall hook by Bragg’s greatcoat, while he went behind his desk, where he sat. She turned with dread. He had steepled his hands and bridged his nose upon them, not looking at her.
    “I’m sorry.”
    He made a disparaging sound.
    “Can we speak? Please?” she