Kansas City Cowboy. Julie Miller

besting a former sorority sister again. “I’m listening. I can still get my report on the late news. Knight will have to wait until morning for his paper to come out.”

      Funny how that competitive spirit had once challenged Kate to accomplish so much. And all the time she’d been busy accomplishing, Vanessa had been stealing behind Kate’s back, having an affair with her husband, Brad.

      Just give her a quote and get her out of here.

      But while the embers of regret and resentment burned inside her, outwardly, Kate presented a few nuggets of information as succinctly as her position within the department demanded. “While we don’t have a definitive suspect yet, we are developing a profile. He’s someone local because he knows the city well enough to blend in or hide without drawing attention to himself. And he targets strong, professional women—whether they’re up and coming or have already established successful careers.”

      Vanessa’s thumbs hovered above her phone in mid-text. “So he’s looking for women who are likely to fight back or who have the means to prosecute him should he ever be identified?” She resumed inputting Kate’s comments into her phone. “This guy likes a challenge.”

      “Which is part of why he goes to such lengths to hide his identity and mask the site of the original attacks.”

      “Part of the reason?”

      Kate checked her watch. Unless someone else was running late, Spencer Montgomery had already started the task force debriefing on the day’s events. But leaving Vanessa with an unanswered question would only encourage the woman to come back.

      She knew better than to publicize the unsub’s penchant for sterilizing both the victims and the crime scene after the rape had occurred—that was a fact they were keeping to themselves to help eliminate bogus hotline tips and rule out evidence from assaults committed by someone else. But she’d probably already shared more of the profile than she should. She needed to be the stronger woman here and not let her emotions dictate her interactions with this particular member of the press.

      “This is off the record because we don’t have the proof yet….” She waited for Vanessa’s nod of agreement before continuing. “But after careful study of the behaviors in each of the attacks, we believe our unsub has been hurt, humiliated, possibly even abused, by an important woman in his life. The assaults are a punishment, a means to … reclaim his power, to prove that he’s stronger, smarter, than the woman who damaged him. Unfortunately, the attacks probably have nothing to do with the actual victims. In his mind, they all represent this one woman to him. He’s proving to himself that she lacks the power to ever hurt him again.”

      At least Vanessa had the grace to look appalled and slightly terrified of Kate’s description of the monster who was preying on the women of Kansas City. “And do you have a list of suspects who fit that description?”

      But Kate had said enough. “I have a meeting to get to. If you’ll excuse me.”

      With a noisy huff of exasperation, Vanessa fell into step beside her again. “That’s it? Psychological mumbo-jumbo about a man you’re no closer to identifying than you were five months ago?”

      “We’re making progress, Vanessa, but that’s all I can share right now.”

      “Can I at least tell my viewers that professional women are more likely to be targeted than others? You’re talking about assertive women—confident, successful women, right?”

      Kate stopped and looked Vanessa straight in the eye. The implication was obvious. “Yes. Women like you and me.”

      After a momentary pause, Vanessa nodded. “Thank you for the insight, Kate. I’ll share the warning, along with the safety tips you gave at the press conference this morning. I’m glad we can move past what happened between us and do what’s right for the greater good of the city.”

      Well, at least one of them had evidently moved on from the tragic events that had ended Kate’s marriage. Even though the humiliation and pain of just how she’d discovered Brad and Vanessa’s affair had dulled over the past five years, a big scar remained on Kate’s ability to trust in personal relationships. She certainly no longer believed in the friendship she and Vanessa had shared.

      Without further comment, she turned her back on the reporter. Once Kate was alone in the empty hallway, her shoulders sagged with the need to catch a quiet moment to herself before she joined the task force meeting. She untied the belt of her coat and unhooked another button. The high heels would go next if she had another five minutes to decompress. But, “Oh, hell.”

      The door to her office was already open. Had she forgotten an appointment? She hurried the last few steps, then halted in the doorway.

      “Oh, double …” She swallowed the rest of her unladylike curse as the sheriff with the coal-black hair unfolded himself from one of the visitor’s chairs and stood.

      “Dr. Kate.” Holding his hat in his big hands, Boone Harrison nodded a greeting to her. With his insulated jacket draped over the back of the chair, she got a better idea of how broad shoulders and solid muscles filled out the dimensions of the tan-and-brown uniform he wore. The silver in his hair indicated he might be five to ten years older than she, but there was nothing over the hill about the fitness of his body, and he seemed as comfortable in his own skin, and as laid-back about the authority he exuded, as any man she’d met.

      There was something basic and unpretentious about the masculinity imprinted in every rugged line, deep-pitched word and chivalrous gesture of Boone Harrison. And as much as his relentless and poorly timed refusal to leave her and KCPD alone to do their work annoyed her, she couldn’t deny a rusty feminine awareness sparking to life inside her at every encounter with the man.

      Taking a deep breath and forcing her weary muscles to smile, Kate unhooked the last button and shrugged out of her coat as she circled around her desk. She draped the coat over the back of her chair and smoothed the sleeves of her cashmere cardigan, diverting her focus to distract her traitorous hormones for a moment. “Who’s taking care of Alton County while you’re here in Kansas City?”

      “I’ve got deputies.” A tall, broad shadow loomed over her as Boone approached the desk. “Since I’m staying the night to escort Janie home in the morning, I thought I’d check in to see if any progress has been made on your investigation.”

      She’d thought she’d gotten rid of him after their meeting at the florist’s shop that morning. So much for a five-minute respite to recoup the emotional energy she’d expended throughout the day. After the long day she’d had—counseling a retired cop who was dealing with the recent death of his wife, as well as a young officer who’d been particularly surly about being assigned to temporary desk duty, observing witness interviews and trading carefully chosen words with reporters who were just as intent as Vanessa Owen to get the inside scoop on the Rose Red Rapist’s latest attack—the last thing Kate needed was to deal with Sheriff Tall, Dark and Determined here.

      Five minutes free from drama was apparently too much to ask for right now. Maybe if she quickly sent Boone Harrison on his way, though, she could at least close the door and enjoy two minutes of silence before joining the next meeting. “You’ve got a hotel room already? They fill up pretty fast this late in the day, especially south of town where the new crime lab and M.E.’s office are. Maybe you’d better—”

      “I’ve got a room. But I’d sleep in my truck if I had to.” A soft gray Stetson landed in the middle of her desk, followed by two broad hands braced on either side of it and the earthy, warm scent of the man leaning over them. Kate tilted her gaze up to a pair of whiskey-brown eyes that were entirely too close to hers. “Thought if I made an effort to be a little more civilized than I was this morning, you might be more inclined to share some information.”

      Didn’t the man understand personal space? And had that breathy little catch of sound really come from her?

      “You were understandably upset this morning. But that doesn’t change the facts. You’re out of your jurisdiction, you’re too emotionally