Taking

As they reached him, the man handed each of them a service weapon—a 22-caliber Glock pistol.

Ryan’s mouth gaped with surprise—and also some alarm, Riley felt pretty sure.

He’ll just have to get used to my having a firearm, she thought.

Riley smiled at him and said, “OK, we can go home now.”

She was relieved that he made no comment about the lethal weapon she was carrying as they said goodbye to her friends and headed back across the quad.

Everything is going to be all right, she thought.

That was when a young man approached her holding an envelope.

“Are you Riley Sweeney?” the young man asked.

“Yes,” Riley said.

The young man handed her the envelope and said, “I’m supposed to give you this. You’ve got to sign for it.”

Riley signed for the envelope, then hastily pulled it open.

She staggered back a few steps at what she read.

“What is it?” Ryan asked.

She gulped hard and told him, “It’s a change of assignment.”

“What does that mean?” he demanded.

“I won’t be working at DC Bureau Headquarters after all. I’m assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit right here in Quantico.”

Ryan stammered, “But—but you said … we’re supposed to be living together.”

“We will be,” Riley hastened to assure him. “After all, it’s not that long a commute.”

Even so, she knew that the change was definitely going to complicate their lives. This wasn’t going to make it impossible for them to be together, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

Ryan snapped, “Well, you can’t do that. They’ll have to change it.”

“I can’t make them change anything,” Riley replied. “I’m just an underling here, like you are in the law office.”

Ryan was silent for a long moment, then he grumbled, “Whose idea was this, anyway?”

Riley thought about that. She’d had hadn’t even listed Quantico among her three assignment choices. Who would have intervened to place her here?

Then she realized with a sigh …

I’ve got a pretty good idea.

CHAPTER TWO

Special Agent Jake Crivaro stared discontentedly at his scrambled eggs.

I should have gone to that graduation, he thought.

He was sitting in the commissary of the BAU building in Quantico, thinking about Riley Sweeney, his young protégé. Her graduation from the FBI Academy had been two days ago, and he was feeling bad about having skipped it.

Of course, he’d made an excuse for himself—too much paperwork piled up on his desk. But the truth was, he hated those kinds of ceremonies, and he just hadn’t been able to muster up the will to go and sit there in the crowd and listen to speeches he’d heard in so many variations before.

If he had gone, he could have taken the opportunity to tell her face-to-face that he’d personally arranged for her transfer from DC to the Behavioral Analysis Unit here in Quantico.

Instead, he’d let a messenger do that job.

But surely she’d taken the BAU transfer to be good news. After all, her unique talents would be put to much better use here than they would have been in DC.

Then it occurred to Jake that Riley might not even know yet that he’d had her assigned to be his own partner.

He hoped she’d find it a nice surprise to learn that they’d be working together. They’d already made a good team on three pretty tough cases. The youngster could be erratic at times, but she always managed to surprise him with the unusual power of her insight.

I should have at least called her, he reprimanded himself.

Jake looked at his watch and realized that Riley must be on her way here right now, to report for her first day at work.

As he took a sip of coffee, his cell phone rang.

When he took the call, a voice said, “Hey, Jake. Harry Carnes here. Am I catching you at an OK time?”

Jake grinned at the sound of his old friend’s voice. Harry was a retired police detective from Los Angeles. Several years ago, they’d worked together on a celebrity kidnapping case. They’d hit it off well and had stayed in touch.

“Sure, Harry,” Jake said. “It’s great to hear from you. What’s up?”

He heard Harry sigh, then say, “I’ve got something bothering me. I was hoping you might be able to help me out.”

Jake felt a surge of concern.

“I’d be glad to, buddy,” he said. “What’s the problem?”

“Do you remember that Colorado murder case last year? The woman who got killed in Dyson Park?”

Jake was surprised to hear Harry bring it up. When Harry had retired from the LA police force, he and his wife, Jillian, had moved to Gladwin, a tiny town in the Rocky Mountains right next to Dyson Park. A young woman’s body had been found on a hiking trail. Despite his civilian status, Harry had tried to help the police solve the case, but without success.

“Sure, I remember,” Jake said. “Why do you ask?”

A short silence fell.

Then Harry said, “Well … I think it’s happened again.”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked.