Trigger Effect. Maggie Price

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СКАЧАТЬ for him.”

      They rounded a corner; just as Paige reached the office door she caught a glimpse of a man in a dark gray suit at the far end of the hallway. A second later, he disappeared into a connecting corridor. Too tall to be Isaac, she automatically calculated before she stepped into the office.

      “What precisely did you want to ask me, Sergeant Alvarado?” Paige asked as she set her coffee cup on the desk. Her hand froze as she reached for the drawer where she’d stashed her purse. It was open a few inches. She was positive she’d locked the drawer.

      Jerking it open, she stuck her hand inside her purse and felt her heart stop. “Dammit!”

      “What’s wrong?”

      “My billfold is gone.”

      Tia took a step forward. “Are you sure you had it in your purse this morning?”

      “Positive, I bought a latte before leaving my hotel. This lock was either jimmied, or someone had a key.” Her eyes narrowed. “That man.”

      “What man?”

      “About six foot four, dark hair, gray suit. He disappeared around the corner just as we walked in here.”

      Tia glanced toward the door. “I missed him.”

      “I didn’t.” Too tall to be Isaac, but maybe his accomplice? Fueled by that possibility, Paige yanked her purse out of the drawer, slung its strap over her shoulder and skirted around the desk.

      The hallway was crowded with cops and civilians headed to the various classrooms. Paige threaded through the milling bodies, sweeping her gaze right to left. Her chin came up when she spotted the man at the entrance to a classroom at the far end of the hallway.

      “Excuse me?” The curtness of her words had several people turning her way. Including her quarry.

      “Are you talking to me?” He was distinguished-looking, in his sixties, with a peppering of gray at the temples. Up close, she saw that his suit was silk and had the look of expensive tailoring. The man was a somebody. Definitely had that air of power rolling around him.

      No matter who he was, that wasn’t going to stop her from questioning him. She did, however, soften her tone. “Did you just leave the guest instructor’s office?”

      He raised a brow. “You would be?”

      “Morning, Chief Quaid,” Tia said, easing in beside Paige.

      His gaze shifted. “Sergeant Alvarado.”

      “Sir, this is Paige Carmichael, she’s teaching a workshop. Someone stole her billfold out of her purse while it was in the guest instructor’s office.”

      “You suspect I’m your thief?” he asked, watching Paige closely.

      Great, she thought. She’d accosted the freaking chief of police. “I saw you in the hallway near the office. I’m simply following up on that.”

      “I did pass by there, Ms. Carmichael,” he confirmed. “I had just left the main offices where I conferred with my training staff.”

      “Did you spot anyone in or near the guest instructor’s office?”

      “Not a soul.” He looked at a uniformed officer standing to his left. “Isom, inform your major about the theft. Tell him I want the building and grounds swept immediately for the suspect and billfold. If we at least recover the billfold we may get the suspect’s prints.”

      “Yes, sir,” the cop said, then quick-footed it down the hallway.

      Quaid looked back at Paige. “I regret this happening to you while at my training center.”

      “You’re not the only one.” Paige’s hands balled into fists of frustration. She’d been on the receiving end of a mugging. She had doubts that last night’s allergic reaction was due to a sudden chemical response to a banana. Then there was the mug shot left under her door. Now, her billfold had been stolen. Was everything related? Was it Isaac’s way of playing cat and mouse, just to demonstrate how close he could get to her? She was standing in a building filled with cops, and still the sensation of Isaac’s presence closed like a hand on her throat.

      “I take it your driver’s license, credit cards and cash were inside your billfold?” Quaid asked.

      “Cash.” Putting a choke hold on her emotions, she dug into her purse, pulled out a small leather case. “I keep my license and credit cards separate.” She did a quick inventory. “They’re all here.”

      “Sergeant Alvarado.”

      “Sir?”

      “Take Ms. Carmichael’s larceny report. If her billfold isn’t found during the sweep, call my secretary to get a requisition number for a cash voucher to replace her money.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      He looked back at Paige. “You’re instructing forensic statement analysis.” It wasn’t a question.

      “That’s right.”

      “I was at a conference about six months ago. Several other police chiefs there talked about the workshop you’d presented for their departments. They had such high praise I had my training staff arrange for you to come here. In fact, I have it on my schedule to stop by your workshop before I leave here today. I want to see for myself what all the praise is about.”

      “We’ll be glad to have you, Chief Quaid.” She held out her hand. “No hard feelings, I hope?”

      “None. I admire your style, Ms. Carmichael.” His handshake was firm and all business.

      Paige waited until he stepped into the classroom to slide Tia a look. “Thanks for smoothing that over. I owe you.”

      Tia grinned. “I’m a soft touch for female cops who aren’t afraid to shoot from the hip.” Her expression went serious. “Let’s go to the major’s office and get the report on your billfold written.”

      “You probably should combine the larceny with an ongoing investigation under my name,” Paige said as they retraced their steps. “I don’t know if they’re connected, but they might be.”

      “An ongoing investigation of what?”

      “I was mugged in the parking lot here yesterday. The bastard got my briefcase. And last night I wound up in the E.R. after taking a bite of fruit that had been delivered to my hotel suite.”

      “The fruit was tampered with?”

      “That, or I’m suddenly allergic to bananas. The fruit’s at the lab now.”

      “Sounds like you had an eventful evening.”

      “There’s more. Remember the escaped killer I mentioned?”

      “The shrink who killed five prostitutes. Who could forget?”

      “Someone slid his mug shot with a typed note supposedly from him under СКАЧАТЬ