Bear Claw Conspiracy by Jessica Andersen Page A

with Jack.”
    “Not anymore you don’t,” an all-too-familiar voice said from the doorway behind her.
    She froze. Oh, no. Tucker hadn’t. He wouldn’t.
    Would he?
    The look Alyssa sent her—part sympathy, part dare—said that he would, and he had.
    Gigi’s body washed hot, then cold, then back to hot again. She turned slowly, not ready to face Blackthorn, especially not now, when her usual defenses were gone, stripped away by girl talk.
    But there he was, and she was going to have to deal with him. And with the way her body lit up at the sight of him filling the doorway. His presence seemed larger somehow down here in the rapidly shrinking confines of the basement.
    Heat speared through her, tempting and tantalizing, and making her think of hot sheets and waking with his taste on her lips.
    Maybe her awareness was so thoroughly heightened because she knew him now, had kissed him, been kissed by him. Or maybe it was the jeans and short-sleeved white button-down he wore in place of his tan-and-green uniform, making him look different, somehow less aloof.
    But then he shifted away from the doorframe, and her eyes zeroed in on his worn leather belt. Or, rather, on the badge and holster that rode together on his left hip.
    Deputized, Alyssa had said, which accounted for the badge, with its familiar Bear Claw P.D. insignia. But that didn’t explain why the holster bore LAPD markings…or why, when he saw her staring, his expression went brittle and he looked away.
    Gigi’s instincts fired in all directions, telling her something big was going on, but not what, or how she was supposed to handle it.
    In the end, she said, stupidly, “But you’re a ranger.”
    He looked back at her, one corner of his sculpted mouth kicking up with zero amusement. “I am now. Before that, I had a decade on the job. Now I guess I’m doing an encore, thanks to budget cuts and the fact that Tucker knew I was going to be working this case with or without sanction.” But his expression said that was only half of the story.
    She had a feeling she knew the rest. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
    “Nobody said you did. And speaking of babies…” He looked past her to Alyssa and mock-glared. “I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy.”
    Hello, subject change. Gigi didn’t know what to make of that, what to make of any of it. But she couldn’t take her eyes off his weapon, which was an older Sig Sauer, a warhorse of an automatic.
    “My darling wife is supposed to be on her way home,” Tucker said, coming up behind Blackthorn to shoot Alyssa a stern look.
    “I’m sitting,” she said primly, but with a “don’t push me” look in her eyes. “So catch me up. Where do we stand on the Jerry Osage connection?”
    Gigi only half listened as Tucker summarized what his contacts had come up with so far, which was that yes, Jerry’s murder had been the catalyst for Tanya packing up her skis and becoming a ranger, but no, there didn’t seem to be any connection between the two cases. “Nobody’s taking any bets, though,” he said, “which is why we’re mobilizing a joint task force with the park service, including our newest deputies.” He raised an eyebrow in Gigi’s direction. “You on board? Ready to get deputized so you and your partner can head out?”
    Deputized. Partner. This wasn’t happening.
    Was it?
    Her better sense screamed for her to take a second to think it through, turn it down. There was no way in hell she and Blackthorn would survive being partnered up. He was going to try to rein her in, marginalize her, and she was going to be tempted to be twice as reckless as usual just to prove she could.
    But she nodded to Tucker. “Lay it on me.”
    Because, really, there was no way she could turn down the opportunity. It meant she would be working the case on an official basis while shadowing a ten-year veteran of the LAPD. It was going to look great on her résumé. As for the rest of it…well, she would deal.