Rapid Fire (26 page)

But the
final three words rang false, telling her once and for all that she did love,
all right, but she’d been too late to figure that out.

More
importantly, she’d picked the wrong guy. He’d said I’m falling for you, but
what he’d really meant was I want you, but the moment we’re done I’ll be out of
here so fast your head’ll spin.

Anger
carried her out of the condo and down to the parking garage, where she did her
damnedest to banish images of Thorne’s Interceptor. But the memories kept
coming, frustrating her. Annoying her.

How had
he become such an integral part of her existence in such a short period of
time? How could such a thing happen so quickly?

“Well,
it’ll have to unhappen just as quickly,” she said aloud, and froze when an echo
of sound answered her from deeper within the parking garage.

It
sounded like an indrawn breath.

Nerves
prickled to life along the back of her neck, the feeling of being watched, of
not being alone anymore. Instead of calling out, she jabbed her key into the
door lock and cursed when it jammed.

Since
when did her hands shake?

Since you
became the target of a murderer, a sly stealthy voice said in her head. Since
Thorne left you unprotected and told you to stay the hell inside where you’d be
safe from the killer. Safe from him.

The
latter thought brought a bigger shudder, and her hands were well and truly
shaking by the time she got the door unlocked on the second try and yanked open
the door. She slammed the door and fumbled to fit the key in the ignition,
knowing she’d heard that sound, knowing there was someone in the garage with
her.

She
nearly flooded the engine trying to get the car started, and damn near sobbed
with relief when it caught. She floored it and pulled of the garage going way
too fast, but for a change she didn’t care. She wanted to get out of there and
regroup.

She was a
cop, true, but she was a cop without backup.

She
pulled out into traffic and headed for the Bear Claw PD, needing to talk with
Thorne. They couldn’t leave things they way they had. It was too awful. Too
confusing.

She
wouldn’t beg, but nor would she let him walk away from what they had without a
fight. She was too strong now for that.

When
she’d nearly reached the parking lot, her cell phone rang, making her jump.

Her heart
lurched up into her throat with two thoughts. What if it was Thorne, calling to
apologize?

Worse,
what if it wasn’t?

She
debated ignoring it, but that would be cowardice, so she flipped open the unit
and held it to her ear. “Cooper here.”

“I caught
you. Good.” The masculine voice sent a jolt through her system before she
realized it wasn’t Thorne. The tones were too guttural, almost melancholy.

“Chief
Parry?”

“Affirmative.
We just got a call from the Henkes residence.” His voice grew, if possible,
more dour. “The mother is asking to speak with you. Says the kid has something
to say.”

Maya’s
breath caught in her throat when she remembered Kiernan pulling her aside in
the skating rink. Remembered being grabbed immediately after. “Is that even
legal? They’ve got an order out against me.”

“I’ll
testify that you were invited if it comes to that,” the chief answered. “Get
over there. I’ll send someone to back you up.”

“Not
Thorne,” she said too quickly, then backpedaled. “Send me someone else. Alissa
or Cassie, maybe, or Tucker McDermott.”

“You’re
not really in a position to be rearranging work orders, are you? Just get over
there and see what they have.”

The
connection went dead, leaving Maya in the PD parking lot, staring at the phone.

What the
hell?

What
could Ilona or Kiernan want to tell her? Why her? Why now?

As
possibilities ranging from tantalizing to ludicrous spooled through her mind,
Maya glanced at the rear door of the PD. She could go in and collect her
backup, make things easier.

Then she
remembered the strange tone in the chief’s voice, and the fact that he and
Wexton Henkes were friends. She remembered the cold, dead look in Thorne’s eyes
when he’d left her condo and the door closed at his back.

Suddenly,
the PD didn’t seem like the safe zone it once had. Her fellow officers didn’t
seem like quite the allies she needed.

Making a
quick decision, Maya spun the car in a one-eighty and headed back out onto the
road, bound for the Henkes mansion. Let the chief send whatever backup he
wanted. She was handling this on her own. She needed to prove this to herself,
and to Thorne.

She was
strong enough to do this on her own.

But
because she also wasn’t dumb, she flipped open her cell and hit the button for
Cassie’s number. When it rang through to voice mail, she said, “Cass, it’s me.
I’m on my way to the Henkes place and I’ve got a feeling…” She trailed off,
unable to put a name to the nerves. “Never mind. Meet me there if you can. Grab
Alissa and Tucker just in case. Leave Thorne out of it if possible, things
are…let’s just say things are weird between us right now.” She drew breath to
explain further, but a digital beep cut her off, letting her know that she’d
exceeded her recording time.

It was
just as well, she supposed. What else was there to say? Thorne is convinced
he’s psychic, but it’s really just a defense mechanism. He doesn’t want me
enough to work on it.

Yeah,
Cassie really didn’t need that message on her machine.

But as
Maya turned away from downtown Bear Claw, toward the ritzy section of town, she
had a feeling that she’d left something out of her message to Cassie. Something
important.

She just
didn’t know what it was.

HE WAITED
ON THE BEAR CLAW Creek overpass, knowing that Drew Wilson would be late for
their meeting, just because he could be. Wilson was cocky like that. He was
also smart, which made him a more formidable puzzle piece than the others had
been.

Wilson
had executed his orders flawlessly, getting himself hired on at the prison and
then biding his time, waiting until the planner was ready to take the next
step. The younger man—motivated by money rather than the love of crime as the
others had been—had orchestrated things perfectly at the ranch, and then again
at the college skating rink. The Bear Claw cops were chasing their own stubby
tails, nudged into chaos by a few well-placed distractions.

The
Mastermind’s lips curved in the darkness.

It was
nearly time for the final, most important step, the one that would have the
city hailing him as their savior.

Their
hero.

He liked
the ring of that.

A passing
car slowed, then pulled in ahead of his vehicle and stopped. Drew Wilson
climbed out and sauntered over, briefly lit by the headlights of another
vehicle that crossed the bridge, headed for somewhere else.

“Hey,
boss.” Wilson’s greeting held a faint sneer, a reminder that he had leverage
over his superior, the threat of disclosure.

Or so he
thought.

“Wilson.”
The Mastermind nodded to his underling. “You’ve done well.”

“You pay
well,” the former prison guard replied. “And speaking of which, I think it’s
time for us to renegotiate our deal. It seems to me that our original terms
aren’t as, shall we say, equitable as they could be?”

“By all
means.” The Mastermind reached down to the duffel at his feet. “But let’s get
this first business out of the way, shall we?” He lifted the heavy bag and
palmed the blade he had concealed within, feeling his heart pick up a beat at
the thought of what was to come.

Wilson
reached for the bag. “Let’s consider this a payment on account, shall we? I was
thinking my new pay scale should work in arrears, starting with this last job.
Getting away from the rink was tougher than it should have been. I almost
didn’t make it.”

And you
wouldn’t have made it at all without my help, the Mastermind thought with an
inward sneer. But outwardly, he feigned a wince. “Ouch. You’ve got me by the
shorties. But I’m sure we can work something out. In fact—” He broke off as
another set of headlights cut through the darkness, and motioned the other man
closer. “Come here. I’ve got another job for you—at the new pay rate, of
course.”

Wilson’s
eyes lit greedily and he leaned forward just as the Mastermind lifted his
blade.

The
finely honed steel cut through Wilson’s flesh as if it were warm butter, and
grated on a rib before slipping beneath and finding its target.

The
Mastermind caught his underling as he fell, and propped up the dying man. The
car passed and drove on, not wanting to bother the men on the bridge.

Especially
not when one of them drove a police vehicle with bubble lights atop the dome.

When the
car was gone and the bridge was quiet and dark, the Mastermind cleaned and
pocketed his blade, and eased the body over the railing. It landed with a
splash, and the moonlight shone on the corpse as it eddied briefly in a swirl
of creek water before heading downstream.

It would
be found the following day, once the sun came up.

Exactly
as planned.

Chapter
Fourteen

Thorne
was sitting at his—Maya’s—desk staring at the stacked scraps of paper for the
hundredth time when Cassie walked into the office. He cursed under his breath
at the sight of Maya’s prickly friend. He wasn’t feeling up for another battle.

Hell, he
wasn’t even sure what he was doing at the PD. He’d been on his way out of town
when the thought had struck him, sending him back to his notes. But the impulse
was gone now, leaving him frustrated with the knowledge that he was close to a
breakthrough, yet too far.

He
glanced over at Cassie. “You need something?”

She
bristled. “This is my office. I don’t need a reason to be here.”

“Good
point.” Thorne returned his attention to the file he’d pulled up on the
computer, which compared the timelines of the kidnappings, the murders and the
most recent attacks. Something niggled at the back of his brain, some
connection that hadn’t quite formed yet. He frowned and concentrated, trying to
figure out which note was jarring him, which set of circumstances didn’t quite
jibe.

But
concentrating was damn difficult when Cassie was standing across the room, arms
folded, glowering at him.

He
finally sighed, clicked the monitor to the screen saver and turned to face her.
“Look, if there’s something you want to say, say it. Otherwise, go be somewhere
else. You’re bothering me.”

“You’re
going to hurt Maya, aren’t you?”

Thorne
jolted, then realized she was talking about emotional pain, not gunshots and
blood. He shook his head. “No, I won’t. I—”

He broke
off, knowing that it was already too late.