A Faint Cold Fear
buttons. He looked to Frank and Matt for help, but their faces were just as hard as Lena's.
    'Go on,' Jeffrey said.
    Lena was terse. 'I saw a blur. Movement. He stood up and took off. I ran after him.'
    'Which way did he go?'
    Lena took her time, looking up to find the sun.
    'West, probably toward the highway.'
    'Black? White?'
    'White,' she said, then added a flippant, 'maybe.'
    'Maybe?' Jeffrey demanded, aware that he was fueling the fire but incapable of stopping himself.
    'I told you,' she said, defensive. 'He turned and ran.
    What was I going to do, ask him to slow down so I could ascertain his ethnicity?'
    Jeffrey paused a moment, trying to hold back his temper. 'What was he wearing?'
    'Something dark.'
    'A coat? Jeans?'
    'Jeans, maybe a coat. I don't know. It was dark.'
    'Long coat, short coat?'
    'A jacket… I think.'
    'Did he have a weapon?'
    'I couldn't see.'
    'What color was his hair?'
    'I don't know.'
    'You don't know?'
    'I think he was wearing a hat.'
    'You think he was?' Suddenly, all the helplessness that had been building up since he had seen Tessa lying near death exploded out of him. 'Jesus Christ, Lena, how long were you a cop?'
    Lena stared at him with the kind of burning hatred he was used to seeing in suspects he interrogated.
    He demanded, 'You chase a fucking suspect, and you can't even tell me if he was wearing a hat or not?
    What the fuck were you doing out there, picking daisies?'
    Lena kept staring up at him, her jaw working as she held back what she wanted to say.
    'It's a damn good thing he didn't go after you,'
    Jeffrey said. 'We'd be looking at two girls on that chopper instead of one.'
    She snapped, 'I can take care of myself.'
    'You think that little knife on your ankle's gonna protect you?' He was disgusted by the surprised look on her face, mostly because he had taught Lena better than that. Jeffrey had seen her ankle sheath when she'd slid on her ass down the riverbank.
    He said, 'I should run you in for carrying concealed.'
    She continued to stare, her hatred palpable.
    'You better check that look,' he warned her.
    Lena's teeth were so tightly clenched that her words were hard to make out. 'I don't work for you anymore, asshole.'
    Something inside Jeffrey was very close to snapping.
    His vision sharpened, everything coming into startling focus.
    'Chief,' Frank said, putting his hand on Jeffrey's shoulder. Jeffrey backed down, knowing he was acting insane. He saw his bloody clothes on the ground, Tessa's blood. Everything rushed in on him in that moment: The tears on Sara's face making tracks on her bloodstained cheek. Tessa's arm, limp, dangling off the stretcher as they lifted her.
    Jeffrey turned away so they could not see his expression, picking up his badge, polishing it with the tail of his undershirt, trying to buy himself time to calm down.
    Brad Stephens chose that moment to walk up, twirling his hat in his hand. He asked, 'What's going on, Chief?'
    Anger made Jeffrey's throat tight. 'I told you to walk Schaffer to her dorm.'
    'She ran into a couple of friends,' Brad said, turning pale. 'She wanted to go with them.' His clear blue eyes were wide with fright, and he stuttered, 'I-I-I figured she'd be better off with them. They're with her house.
    Keyes House. I didn't think-'
    'All right,' Jeffrey interrupted, knowing that taking out his anger on Brad would only make him feel worse. He told Frank, 'Get some of our people on the highway. Tell them we're looking for someone walking. Anyone walking. Maybe in a jacket, maybe not.' He did not look at Lena on this last part, though she must have known a description would make all the difference.
    Frank said, 'The units should be here soon.'
    Jeffrey nodded. 'I want a grid search from this area up to the last point where Lena saw the attacker. We're looking for a knife. Anything that doesn't belong.'
    'He had something in his hand,' Lena said, like she was offering up a prize. 'A white bag.'
    Brad Stephens gasped, then blushed when

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