“The three women came with glowing references and wanted to work together. I was looking to upgrade my forensics team. It seemed like a match.”
“I take it things haven’t gone smoothly?”
Parry snorted. “You could say that. If it isn’t one thing with those three, it’s another. At first, they couldn’t manage to get along with the rest of the PD. They did their jobs well enough, but it was tense as hell. Then once all this trouble started, my crime scene expert and my evidence tech wound up snuggling with my best detective and my FBI liaison.” His expression darkened. “Hell, they wound up being targeted by the damn killer!”
“You can’t blame them for the criminal mind,” Thorne said, avoiding the touchy issue of interdepartmental romance. He didn’t need to go there. Not now.
Not ever again.
“True, but whether it’s their fault or not, things have been unsettled in the PD since they came on board.” The chief shifted in his chair. “Then add on this business with Wexton Henkes…” He trailed off, but his sour expression left no doubt that he’d had it with his crack team of investigators. “My so-called psych specialist accused Bear Claw’s biggest philanthropist of child abuse—against the sworn testimony of his wife and son, mind you—and then attacked him in his own home before she collapsed and remained unconscious for nearly three days.” Parry muttered a curse. “I just don’t think she’s an asset to the PD at this point. I’d like to replace her with someone more stable. More qualified.”
Thorne grimaced. Surely the rumors had traveled down to Bear Claw, stories of how he’d gone up into the mountains after cult leader Mason Falk, and how he’d been a changed man afterwards.
But maybe the chief figured that was a long time ago, and knew he’d proven himself since.
God knows he’d tried to.
He thought of the opportunity he was being offered. A fresh start, away from—
Well, just away.
Interest piqued, Thorne withdrew his hands from his pockets and sat in the padded chair facing the chief’s desk. He gestured toward the glass wall separating the chief’s office from the bulk of the Bear Claw PD, where cops worked in their cubes or hustled out on calls. “What about the others? Won’t they see me as just as much of an intruder? Hell, what about the women? They’re going to hate me if I break up their cozy little unit.”
“They’ll deal,” the chief said bluntly, though Thorne caught a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Alissa Wyatt is the crime scene analyst. Does sketches, too. She’s engaged to Detective Tucker McDermott, Homicide. Make friends with Tucker and she’ll tolerate you. Cassie Dumont is our evidence tech. She paired off with Seth Varitek, an FBI evidence specialist out of the Boulder office. She’ll be tougher, and won’t care whether you make nice with Seth or not. If I were you, I’d just stay out of her way while you work this case.” The chief leaned forward in his chair and pinned Thorne with a no-nonsense look. “Here’s the deal. I’m putting you on the Mastermind task force. We need a solid profile and a new direction, and we need it yesterday, before this bastard attacks my city again. Consider this case your job interview. You fit in here and help us catch the Mastermind, and the job’s yours.”
Thorne nodded as a stir of anticipation drowned out most of his doubts. “I’ll need copies of the case files, all the notes your investigators have amassed on the Canyon Kidnappings and the Museum Murders, everything that pertains to the Mastermind.”
“The computer files and hard copies are waiting for you downstairs in the forensics department offices. You’ll have to share with Alissa and Cassie, I’m afraid, but maybe that’s for the best. It’ll let you three get used to each other.” The chief stood and extended his hand, indicating that the interview—such as it had been—was over. “I expect interesting things from you, Coleridge. Don’t let me down.”
As Thorne stood and shook with the man who would be—at least temporarily—his new superior, he saw the knowledge in Parry’s eyes and heard the emphasis on the word interesting. That was enough to tell him that the chief had heard the rumors about his so-called talents, after all. Maybe that explained why he’d called Wagon Ridge and asked for Thorne personally.
Yeah, that was it, he decided. The chief was hoping he’d provide a miracle.
Too bad he’d have to disappoint.
“I’ll do my best police work,” he said carefully.
The chief paused, then nodded. “You do that.”
It wasn’t until Thorne turned for the door that he saw the commotion outside, heard the muted shouts in the bullpen. Adrenaline spurted. “What the hell?”
A woman yanked open the door before he could reach for it. Medium height with honey-blond hair pulled into a ponytail beneath a BCCPD ball cap, she had deep blue eyes that were wide with stress, though she kept her voice professionally level when she said, “He’s back. We just had a bomb threat phoned in to that bison park outside the city. Computerized voice and all.”
“The Mastermind phoned here?” the chief demanded, already shrugging into his jacket.
The woman shook her head. “Worse. He called Maya’s cell.”
The chief repeated the name like a curse, but the word froze Thorne to his core.
“Maya?” he said, and something must have leaked into his voice because the woman and Chief Parry both turned to him.
“Maya Cooper,” the chief said. “The psych specialist that you’re re—that you’re subbing for while she’s on suspension.”
The sudden darkening of the woman’s eyes told Thorne the chief’s slip hadn’t gone unnoticed. She glared at Parry, then at Thorne, but said only, “I’m out of here. We’ve got a bomb to find and a scene to process. Everything else will have to wait.”
She slammed the door behind her, making the glass shudder.
The chief paused with his hand on the knob and turned to Thorne. “That was Alissa, the friendlier of your two new coworkers. Sounds like you’re going to have problems.”
“I can handle it,” Thorne said carefully, but the chief had no idea how right he was in predicting a problem.
It wasn’t Alissa he was worried about, though.
It was Maya.
Chapter Two
“Everybody stay calm. It’s all under control.” Though her heart pounded in her chest, Maya pitched her voice low as the crowd of tourists she’d collected in the parking lot outside the ranch edged toward panic. “The police will be here soon to check on the possibility,” she stressed the last word, though in her mind there was no doubt the Mastermind had been deadly serious, “that there’s a problem.”
The tourists and ranch employees milled in a bare area beyond the parking lot, shifting restlessly as though they had ceased to be single individuals and become a combined entity, a spooky, nervous mob that could stampede at any moment.
Maya strained to hear the sound of approaching sirens even as she raised her hands. “Please stay calm. It’ll just be a few more minutes.”
