Be Afraid by Mary Burton

elevator’s DOWN button. “Bright and happy as usual, Georgia.”
    Georgia glared at the detective. “What’s that mean, Bishop?”
    Bishop looked bored. “Don’t you ever get tired of running the show?”
    Georgia seemed to consider the question for a split second. “No.”
    Bishop shrugged. “Not surprising.”
    Georgia’s lips flattened. “I’ve words I could sling like knives, Yank, but I won’t.”
    “Have at it, princess.”
    Tracker yawned, as if he’d heard similar squabbles before. Jenna’s mood eased. Clearly, Georgia chewed on everyone’s ass. “We’re going to my car to get my supplies. I start work now.”
    The elevator doors opened, and Detective Bishop stepped inside. He held the door open with his hand.
    Georgia stepped inside and pushed the OPEN button. “Let’s get this party started.”
    Jenna, Detective Morgan, and Tracker joined the two in the elevator while Dr. Heller remained behind. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
    “I’ll be waiting.”
    The doors closed. Jenna stood in the back next to Georgia and Tracker. The two detectives stood in the front of the elevator, feet braced as if ready for trouble. This close she could smell the scent of Morgan’s soap. His shoulders were wide and his stance rigid, radiating a bullish stubbornness that she wasn’t sure was an asset or liability. This guy never quit.
    She glanced down at the dog, and on reflex scratched him between the ears. He didn’t seem to mind her touch and she felt an odd kinship with him. Both were cops relegated to the outside.
    On the first floor, the doors dinged open and the four walked down the hallway and into the lobby.
    “Guys,” Georgia said. “I’ll help Jenna with the supplies. You head out. I heard you’ve got a lead on the murder and house fire.”
    Jenna’s ears perked. Once a cop always a cop. What house fire? What murder? But she didn’t ask for details, knowing she wasn’t enough of an insider to hear. “It will take Georgia and me one trip. No reason to hold you two up.”
    Bishop shrugged. “Will do.”
    Detective Morgan hesitated, as if he had more to add but, in the end, nodded and he and Tracker followed his partner.
    Jenna was sorry to see the dog go. An offer to hang on to the dog for the afternoon rose in her throat but she swallowed it. She did not need attachments.
    Georgia watched him walk away, her gaze narrowing as she studied his gait before turning to Jenna. “I’m here to help.”
    With Detective Morgan gone, the tension banding her muscles eased a fraction. “This is your afternoon off. I’ve got this. I’ve hauled supplies more times than I can count.”
    “Nope. I’m here to help. I want you working as soon as possible.”
    As Jenna unlocked the door on her Jeep, she glanced at Georgia. “Thanks for the help, but why’re you here?”
    “As Detective Bishop mentioned, I’ve control issues. I brought you into the loop.”
    “And you want to make sure I deliver.”
    “Basically.”
    Jenna shrugged. “Fair enough. I’d have done the same if you were in my backyard in Baltimore.”
    “This is personal for you.”
    “I could say the same for you.”
    Georgia’s gaze sharpened as if she were searching for the smallest forensic crime-scene detail. “I’m giving up a few hours. You’re giving up a few days. Why?”
    She opened the back tailgate of the Jeep. “A child was killed. I guess we’re all feeling it.”
    Georgia shook her head. “No. It’s more for you. I can sense it.”
    “Really?” She kept her tone light as she reached for a box filled with clays, paints, and sculpting tools. “How can you tell?”
    “It’s a gift,” she said.
    Jenna’s laugh had a nervous edge. “What’re you, some kind of psychic?”
    Georgia folded her arms. “I can read people like books.”
    Jenna didn’t doubt she could read most people, but she wasn’t most people. She was good at hiding her thoughts, emotions, and plans. “Really?”
    “Since the day you