Rapid Fire (6 page)

Because
the irony was that she’d saved his life five years earlier, and she didn’t even
know it.

He jammed
his hands in his pockets. “Look, Maya. I—”

“You two
okay up there?” a voice shouted from below. The top rungs of an aluminum
extension ladder banged against the lip of the roof, and shook with ascending footsteps.

“We’re
fine,” Thorne yelled back, louder than he’d meant to. He glanced at Maya.
“Let’s talk about it later.”

Her eyes
grew wary, her expression shuttered. “There’s no need.”

Maya’s
friends were the first two up the ladder. Alissa and Cassie shot Thorne nearly
identical looks of distrust, then rushed to assure themselves that Maya was
fine. Homicide detective Tucker McDermott was next to gain the roof. After
speaking with Maya for a moment, he took Hannah and carried her down the
ladder.

Moments
later, the sounds of a tearful mother-daughter reunion rose up from below.

“The
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.

Chapter
Four

Maya
wasn’t surprised that Thorne snagged a cruiser and followed her to the BCCPD
rather than staying at the ranch with the evidence techs. What surprised her
was how quickly she noticed, and how thoroughly he’d invaded her thoughts.

As she
drove through the early afternoon Bear Claw traffic, her back ached with hoof
print–shaped sore spots and her legs shook with reaction to the stampede.
Frustrated impotence pounded through her at the knowledge that the Mastermind
was back on the attack and she was off the force.

But those
emotions were layered beneath baffled confusion and brown-tinted memories. She
hadn’t expected to see Thorne Coleridge ever again. She hadn’t kept tabs on
him, hadn’t wanted to know where he was or what he was doing.

She’d
wanted to forget everything about him, everything about that night. Hell, she’d
transferred right out of the High Top Bluff Academy to avoid dealing with what
had happened.

It had
been the smartest move she’d ever made, because she’d transferred into the
Boulder Academy, where she’d met Cassie and Alissa. But end results aside,
she’d been running and she damn well knew it. Running from herself, not him.
But now that he was back in her life, she would have to deal with—

“Nothing,”
she said aloud as she pulled into the PD parking lot and felt a spurt of dismay
to see an unfamiliar car in her usual parking spot, emphasizing that this
wasn’t her territory anymore. She swallowed and gave herself a pep talk. “You
don’t have to see him, don’t have to talk to him, don’t have to do anything
with him. He’s got your notes and you’re off the case. It’s not your
responsibility anymore.”

But the
words rang false, banging up against the vow she’d made just that morning, when
she’d decided it was time to stop sulking because nobody believed her, time to
get out there and prove that her Wexton Henkes was their man. Their Mastermind.

“To hell
with it,” she said, though she wasn’t sure whether she was rejecting Thorne,
her vow or the whole complicated mess. She climbed out of the car and stalked
into the PD, ignoring the stab of nostalgia for the walk she’d taken almost
daily for the first nine months she’d lived in Bear Claw, and had managed only
a handful of times in the past three months, while her suspension dragged on.

She had
taken two steps toward the conference room when Chief Parry appeared in his
office doorway. “We’ll meet in here.”

Maya
paused. “But the task force meetings are always in the conference—” Then she
stopped herself, took a breath and nodded. “Of course. Sorry.”

Aware of
the curious stares of the desk clerks and the cops gathered outside the
conference room, she lifted her chin, not wanting them to know how much it
bothered her to be back in the PD with no resolution of her status in sight.
She held her back stiff as she strode into the chief’s office and sat in the
visitor’s chair, feeling every inch an intruder in her own workplace.

Chief
Parry remained standing in the doorway, and moments later called, “There you
are, Coleridge. I want you in here, too.”

Maya
winced but didn’t protest. What would be the use? Instead, she schooled her
expression to professional blankness as Thorne entered the room and the chief
closed the door before taking the chair behind his wide, cluttered desk. In the
absence of a third chair, Thorne leaned back against the glass door and shoved
his hands in his pockets in a study of casual interest.

His
presence filled the room and scraped her already raw nerve endings, but she
didn’t let it show. Instead, she turned her back on Thorne and focused on the
chief. “You wanted to see me, sir?”