Rapid Fire by Jessica Andersen Read Free Book Online Page B

it stood to
reason that the phone call had been aimed at her, but the stampede had been
targeted at the Bear Claw cops in general.
     
    But to
what end?
     
    After a
short drive, Maya pulled into the underground garage beneath the ultra-modern
building in the heart of downtown Bear Claw that she called home. She’d bought
the condo with the last of the settlement money she’d received in her long-ago
divorce, and considered the two-bedroom, split-level home way better than Dane Arkent’s
memory deserved.
     
    Then
again, she hadn’t been worth much back then, either. She’d been young and
stupid when she married Dane. She’d been a hard partier who’d fought constantly
with her conservative parents and had seen the older man, a professional
journalist, as her ticket out of small-town boredom. The fact that he’d partied
just as hard, if not harder, was a bonus. Or maybe it had been the attraction,
she wasn’t sure anymore.
     
    Hell, it
didn’t matter now. She’d gotten out of the relationship, and she’d made herself
into a better, stronger person.
     
    Or so she
told herself. But the words rang faintly false when Thorne’s bootfalls echoed
against the cement of the parking garage and her heart skittered, skipping a
beat in her chest at the sight of his wide shoulders and the lean lethality of
his body.
     
    He had
been an angry, banged-up cop with a layer of whiskey flab when she’d known him
before.
     
    Now,
wearing a shoulder holster he must have donned in the car, he looked every inch
the lean, deadly warrior. But as Maya felt a traitorous quiver of warmth in her
midsection, she reminded herself that looks could be deceiving. Just because
he’d changed on the outside didn’t mean he’d changed his basic personality, his
basic drives. Everything she’d seen of him so far—from the expensive clothes
and the snazzy shades to the faint hint of danger he wore like a
cloak—indicated he was the same Thorne she’d known in High Top Bluff.
     
    The same
Thorne she’d run from because she’d needed to pull herself back together and knew
damn sure she wouldn’t manage it if he were near, acting as the human
embodiment of her temptation.
     
    She held
up a hand when he drew near. “Thanks for following me, but you don’t have to
come up. The doors are key-coded.”
     
    “The
Mastermind—whoever he is—has already proven himself smart enough to tap dance
around key codes,” Thorne said bluntly. “I’m coming up.”
     
    “Suit
yourself.” Maya tried to keep the resentment out of her voice, but those three
words—whoever he is—said it as clear as day. Thorne didn’t believe that Wexton
Henkes could be the Mastermind. The chief hadn’t believed it either. Hell,
nobody in Bear Claw wanted to believe the worst of Henkes. They wanted to see
the philanthropist. The soon-to-be congressman.
     
    They
didn’t want to see what she saw.
     
    The
elevator ride was uncomfortable. The small space was too warm, as though the
air conditioners were off. Colorado was far cooler than South Carolina, where
her parents had tried to raise her with Sunday School and strictness, but there
was still enough summer heat to prickle a fine film of sweat on the back of her
neck, beneath her suddenly heavy-feeling hair.
     
    “This
way,” she said, gesturing unnecessarily to one of the two doors off the
elevator lobby on the fifth floor, her floor. Her tongue felt glued to the roof
of her mouth, as though she’d invited him home for another, more intimate
purpose than checking her closets for an intruder.
     
    She
fumbled for the lock, got it open on the second try, and let him through first.
He pulled his service piece out of the shoulder holster and slipped the safety
off. Instead of reassuring her, the sight of the weapon brought a sting of
resentment.
     
    One of
the detectives had collected her gun as evidence, and the chief had suspended
her permit to carry along with her badge.
     
    He’d left
her defenseless,