Rapid Fire (15 page)

“And I
didn’t,” Maya said aloud. “I haven’t been.”

But a
shiver worked its way down her spine and a nasty, hard ball of nerves gelled in
her stomach.

Brown
out.

Did that
explain why she couldn’t remember what had happened that night with Wexton
Henkes? Could that explain the decisions she’d made—or at least the ones they
said she’d made? But how could she have gotten to the point of browning out?
She’d been on duty, in the middle of two big cases. She never would have taken
a drink.

Yet just
now, she’d nearly poured herself a few fingers of rum.

The lobby
call button buzzed, making her jump, making her heart pound up into her throat.
She thought about ignoring it, or maybe even calling security, but that would
be giving in to the Mastermind and his fear games, so she forced herself to
cross the room.

When she
reached out to hit the Reply button, she was unnerved to see that she still had
the highball glass in her hand.

She
forced her voice steady when she said, “Hello?”

“It’s me
and Alissa.” Cassie’s voice was jarring with its cheerfulness. “Let us up. We
come bearing take-out.”

“Cass.”
Maya nearly slumped with relief. “Okay. Come on up.” She buzzed them through,
thought briefly about arming herself in case this was some sort of elaborate
ruse, and decided that was overkill. But she checked the peephole just in case.
When she saw her friends standing in the hallway, each carrying a big brown
bag, she unlocked and unchained the door.

It wasn’t
until she’d opened the door and ushered them through that their visit struck
her as odd.

The
Mastermind had unleashed another crime wave against Bear Claw, yet the two
remaining members of the Forensics Department were unpacking ribs and corn in
her kitchen.

Something
fishy was going on.

“Are you
guys supposed to be protecting me or keeping me away from Henkes?” Maya asked
quietly, and wasn’t surprised when Alissa flushed.

Cassie
had a better poker face, but after a moment, she sighed and said, “I told him
you wouldn’t buy it.”

“The
chief?” Maya assumed their boss still wanted her kept under wraps, wanted her
kept as far away from Henkes as possible.

But
Alissa shook her head. “No. The new guy. Thorne. He called us from the road and
asked us to come out here. He sounded…strange.” She shot Maya a glance. “Did
something happen between you two that we—being your best friends and all—should
know about?”

“Absolutely
nothing,” Maya said too quickly. Then she forced herself to slow it down when
she said, “Unless you count the part where he refused Barnes’s request to speak
with me just before our only witness was gunned down.”

“Mmm-hmm,”
Cassie said. She’d obviously already heard about Barnes’s death and just as
obviously wasn’t buying Maya’s explanation. “You sure that’s all?”

“Positive,”
Maya said, this time making sure there was no room for doubt in her tone.

But as
her friends started setting the table and the conversation shifted to a
strained, slightly surface version of their usual casual chatter, Maya detected
undercurrents she didn’t understand, a subtext between her friends that she
didn’t get, didn’t trust. What was going on here? What had happened back at the
station that they weren’t telling her about?

Had there
been another message from the Mastermind? Another hint of where he planned to
strike next? Or had they heard a rumor about the Internal Affairs inquiry,
something they didn’t want her to know about?

Those
questions remained unanswered throughout the meal, while the armored warrior on
the rum label looked down at her from the breakfast bar, winking as though he
knew something Maya didn’t.

The hell
of it was, she feared he was right.

THORNE
THOUGHT ABOUT DRIVING around the city and letting things percolate in his
brain. Hell, he thought about heading north, back toward home, or at least
toward the town he’d lived in for the past few years, home or not.

Instead,
he drove to the Bear Claw PD, which was quiet with the late shift personnel and
a few task force members struggling to pin down the latest series of threats.
He waved to the uniformed officer manning the front desk, then headed straight
for the basement. When he reached the Forensic Department offices, he breathed
a sigh of relief that he was alone.

He needed
a moment.

He sat at
his desk amidst Maya’s notes and scrubbed his hands together, one against the
other in a washing motion, wishing it was that easy to erase the images that
had flashed in his brain when he’d kissed her and the sexual buzz had turned
into something else.

One
moment he’d been giving in to the desire that had flared the moment he’d seen
her again, the moment she’d tilted her chin and given him that go-to-hell look
he couldn’t resist. Stupid and ill-timed or not, the attraction was there and
it wasn’t fading as he had hoped. If anything, it was getting worse. He’d
thought a kiss would blunt the feelings, but he’d been wrong about that, too.
The heat, the desire, the need to possess had all reared up inside him, nearly
too huge to manage.

But with
them had come the half-formed images of things he’d done.

Things he
had yet to do.

“Hey,
what’re you doing back here?” a man’s voice said from the doorway. When Thorne
snapped his head up and fought to reassemble his professional shell, Tucker
McDermott stepped into the office and leaned back against the wall in a
habitual, contemplative pose Thorne recognized from the two task force meetings
he’d attended since his arrival. The detective’s eyes sharpened. “Something I
should know about?”

“Nothing
to do with the case,” Thorne replied without really answering. “You got
anything?”

“Maybe.”
McDermott looked at Thorne for a long minute before he asked, “What do you know
about Wexton Henkes?”

That
brought Thorne upright in his chair. “Not much.” In fact, he’d actively avoided
asking about Henkes. The chief’s orders had been clear—keep Maya focused on
something else. And though her actions seemed to suggest that she was a rational,
thinking cop, he wasn’t yet ready to go with her theory that Henkes was the
Mastermind. It seemed like too much of a stretch, too convenient, given her
recent history with the man.

He
shifted in his chair and turned his full attention to the detective. “I know
that Maya suspects that he’s our guy, but it doesn’t play for me. What little
evidence she’s got seems circumstantial at best.”

“True
enough.” McDermott’s expression remained pensive. “But I’ve been thinking…” He
cursed softly. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He shrugged. “Fact is, I like
Maya. With Alissa involved, I’m anything but impartial, and the rest of the PD
is on the other side of the fence because Henkes is a big supporter of the
police charities. Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re here. We need someone who
hasn’t picked a side yet.”

Thorne
tamped down a bubble of cynical amusement.

He wasn’t
sure quite what he was when it came to Maya, but it wasn’t impartial.

The
detective said, “Maybe it’s because of the Maya connection, but once I started
looking at Henkes, a few things popped.” He frowned. “There might be something
there, but I don’t want to go to the chief until I’m sure. Understand?”

Instincts
prickling, Thorne gestured to the chair opposite him. “Sit. Tell me what you’ve
found.”

LATE THAT
NIGHT, THE IMPROMPTU get-together broke up. Alissa went home near midnight, but
Cassie crashed on Maya’s couch, claiming she was too tired to drive home. Maya
accepted the excuse, but she knew damn well that Cass was there as protection.
Safety in numbers. She halfway expected Seth—Cassie’s beau—to invite himself
over.

But
though she tried to go to bed mad, Maya slept deeply and awoke knowing that
Thorne had been right to send her friends over.

She’d
needed someone to stay with her. To babysit her, damn it.

Cassie
left early, after passing on the news that Thorne would pick Maya up near nine.
That gave Maya nearly two hours of brooding time after she dressed in the
plainly cut navy sundress that was the only item of clothing that didn’t
aggravate her bruises. The black-and-blue marks on her ribs, knees and hip were
a Technicolor reminder of the prison sniper incident, as was the fact that she
couldn’t drive herself to the station because she was under house arrest.

Frustration
mounted at the realization that she lacked official sanction to do anything but
sit on her butt and read a book while the case developed around her. Worse,
Thorne was inviting her into the case with one hand while shutting her out with
the other.

And he’d
kissed her.

She felt
a faint flush climb her face and touched her fingertips to her cheeks, then her
lips. She’d managed to deflect Alissa and Cassie away from the subject, but
hadn’t succeeded in diverting her own thoughts. He’d crept into her dreams,
which had been hot and unnerving, leaving her to wake throbbing and
unfulfilled.

He was as
much her weakness as alcohol. Or maybe they were intertwined, she wasn’t sure
anymore. But she knew she needed to armor herself against the pull, the
temptation.

Her partying
days were over, as were her days of giving in to impulse. She was older now,
smarter. She wouldn’t make a Dane-sized mistake again. She would have to figure
out how to control herself around Thorne. She would have to discourage his
attentions.

No matter
how much part of her wanted them. Wanted him.

When he
buzzed to be let up, she steeled herself against the sight of him. Or so she’d
thought until she opened the door and saw him standing there wearing a
button-down shirt open at the throat, paired with khakis and his heavy boots.

The air
vibrated between them like a plucked string as he gave her long, practical
dress a slow look that heated her blood with the memory of their kiss. But he
said only, “Grab your stuff, we’re late.”

Maya
forced herself to focus on the job. On the practicalities. “Since when does the
chief keep to a schedule?” Parry was notorious for coming and going at odd
hours, and always appearing when his cops least wanted him to overhear a gripe
or admission of a mistake.

“We’re not
going to the station.” Thorne held the door open, eyes daring her to go with
him, daring her to refuse.

“Where,
then?”

He waited
until she was out in the hallway, waited until she had the door locked behind
them before he said, “We have a meeting with Wexton Henkes. It’s time to get to
the bottom of what happened between you and him that night.”

WHEN THE
PHONE RANG IN his office, the Mastermind answered it without haste, knowing the
plan was back on target. Barnes’s death had been slightly premature, yes, but
no matter.

It was
fixable.

He lifted
the handset. “Yes, Drew?”

“Coleridge
and the woman are headed out. Want me to follow?”