Rapid Fire. Jessica Andersen

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СКАЧАТЬ chief wants to see you back at the PD,” Cassie told Maya. She had her back to Thorne, but her words carried.

      Aware that their conversation remained unfinished, that their reunion had none of the joyful ring of Hannah’s return to her mother, Thorne stepped forward. “I’ll drive her. We have things to discuss.”

      Maya didn’t make eye contact when she said, “I’ve got my own wheels. I’ll drive myself.”

      Realizing that he was the one without the wheels, Thorne grimaced. “Then I’ll ride with you. I came in with the chief.”

      “Then you can leave with him, too,” Cassie said. She stepped forward, leading with her chin as though daring him to throw a punch. “Isn’t it enough that you’re using her desk and you’ve got all her notes on the Mastermind case?”

      Maya surprised him by stepping forward and laying a hand on her friend’s arm. “I’ve got it.” She gestured toward the ladder. “You two head down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

      When Thorne and Maya were alone again on the roof, she turned to face him, arms folded across her chest. As though remembering his old lectures on open versus closed body language, she uncrossed her arms and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans, where a narrow green belt glittered with a faint gold pattern. “Look,” she began, “I don’t know how much Chief Parry told you about what’s going on, but I’ll be back on the job as soon as IA clears me.”

      “Of course,” Thorne agreed, though he noticed that she was still avoiding eye contact, and her fingers worked restlessly at her sides. She wasn’t as confident as she seemed. He felt a slash of empathy as he remembered his own down time following his escape from Mason Falk’s compound. He’d been on medical leave for nearly six months, and sent to teach at the Academy in High Top Bluff for a year after that.

      He’d worked his way back into active duty. Maya would do the same, if she wanted it enough. But based on what the chief had told him, it didn’t seem likely that she would return to the Bear Claw PD. If that was a given, was there really any harm in him angling for her job?

      Thorne wasn’t sure yet. He hadn’t fully processed the fact that this was Maya Cooper. Pretty, shy Maya Cooper from the back row of his psych class, who never raised her hand, but who aced all the quizzes and papers.

      Pretty Maya Cooper who had cried in his arms over the whiskey he’d urged on her, making him step back and realize what he was becoming.

      What he had already become.

      He might not have changed his life because of her, but he’d damn well changed it because of what she’d shown him about himself. That meant he owed her, but how much?

      “Let me ride with you,” he urged, not completely sure why he wanted to spend time with her. “Even if it’s only temporary, I’m here to work the Mastermind case. I’d appreciate your insights.”

      She looked at him for a long moment, as though judging his motives, or maybe his sincerity. Apparently she found one or both lacking, because she shook her head. “Read my notes. They’re organized and complete, such as they are. You want a hint? Have Hannah describe the guy who grabbed her, and let Alissa develop a sketch.” She shrugged. “Beyond that, you’re on your own.”

      “Come on, Maya.” He took a step closer to her, then paused at the unfamiliar rev that sped through his body. Acknowledging the danger signal, he cleared his throat and said, “Help me out, here. We’re on the same team.”

      “Funny that you should mention teams,” she said, expression closed. “I seem to remember that you were a player and a partier. Unfortunately for you, I’m not either of those things anymore.” A measure of tension left her shoulders, as though she’d needed to say that aloud. “Look,” she said in a less brittle tone, “if I thought I knew anything that isn’t in my notes, I’d tell you. But it’s all there, everything right up until I was suspended.”

      “And what about since then?” he asked quietly. “I’ll bet you’ve done some snooping on your own.”

      “Why do you care?” she snapped. “You don’t need me on this case. There’s no reason for us to spend time together.” She pursed her lips, which were fuller than he remembered. “You’re not thinking that you and I are going to take up where we left off, are you?”

      “No,” he said too quickly. “God, no!” He held up a hand. “No offense or anything, but I just got out of a relationship,” such as it was, “and it didn’t end well. She was a coworker, and—” And he was talking too much. Maya didn’t need to know the sordid details of Detective Tabitha Stock and her personal agenda. He frowned and ended with, “Let’s just say we can put the past in the past and keep it there. I’m not looking for anything more than your take on the Mastermind case.”

      “Then read my notes.” She turned away and slipped over the side of the building, down the ladder and was gone, leaving Thorne alone on the roof.

      But her presence lingered in the air, in the hum of blood through his body, the buzz that said she was prettier than he remembered, spunkier than he remembered. But beneath that buzz was a wariness, a recognition that she’d grown into a dedicated, driven cop, the kind of cop who’d do anything to protect her territory, to ensure her job and move her career forward. Just like Tabitha.

      Maya wasn’t his problem. She didn’t want his help or company, and he’d made things square by pulling her away from the stampeding bison. He could move on from here, without giving her another thought.

      Moments later, he cursed, climbed down the ladder and set off after her. The bomb threat and the Mastermind’s previous pattern of going after women in the Forensics Department suggested she was a target, which made her his problem.

      What better way to find the Mastermind than to stick close to his next victim?

      THE MASTERMIND WATCHED THE cops disperse to their vehicles and hid a smirk at the thought that everything was going according to plan. They were stirred up now, anxious and ready to jump at the smallest shadow.

      He would wait a day, maybe longer, until the anticipation had built to a fever pitch. Then he would make his next move.

      He picked out the slight figure of a dark-haired woman, identifying her by the aggressive wiggle of her hips as she walked to her car. The taller, stronger figure of a man followed at a distance.

      “Right on schedule,” he murmured. He was particularly proud of this facet of his plan.

      Though the ability to manipulate people wasn’t one he’d intentionally cultivated, it had served him well. With a few minor—and fixable—hiccups, everything was moving smoothly. The Bear Claw cops were formidable adversaries, but that would only make his inevitable victory that much sweeter when it came.

      Smiling now, he turned away and headed toward his vehicle. He had a few matters to attend to, new preparations for the next stage of events.

      Then he had a phone call to make.

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