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nuance about his unfamiliar, conflicted emotions. “Do we need to talk about this?”
    “No.”
    “Because I’ve got some experience with fatherhood. It’s just as scary as you think, yet it’s the best job in the world. I’m surviving the teenage years with Mike and there’s another one on the way. The pregnancy routine with the doctor and prenatal classes have changed a little bit since Mike was born. But the basics are the same. If you have questions…”
    Michael Cutler was exactly the kind of man who should be a father. Patient teacher. Good listener. Strong leader. Proud. Loyal. Rafe didn’t need that kind of pressure to try to live up to and fall short. A bell dinged and he turned to face the elevator again. “I’m good.”
    “All right. The offer stands if and when you’re ready to talk. Meanwhile, we’ve got a lot on our plate right now with the Gallagher Security threats and the RGK on the loose. I need you to focus. Can you do your job today?”
    Rafe knew it was a serious question. He gave Michael a serious answer. “Always. That’s one thing you can always count on, sir.”
    The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. “Then let’s check the gear and be ready to roll.”

Chapter Four

    Crossing through the lobby of Fourth Precinct headquarters proved to be no easy task.
    The clicks and flashes of cameras, and hushed buzz of reporters speaking into cell phones and microphones, vaguely reminded Rafe of the barrage of gunfire and flash bangs the team had used to neutralize a hypothetical terrorist threat on their last run through the KCPD training facility. Not exactly a good omen for the outcome of Spencer Montgomery’s press conference.
    All five members of SWAT Team One slowed their steps to negotiate their way through the crowd gathering around the podium where Chief Taylor was making introductions. But it was Trip, with his wry sense of humor, who said exactly what Rafe had been thinking. “I knew we were fighting a war on crime, but, in our own lobby?”
    “They want answers like everyone else in Kansas City,” Miranda suggested. “It’s been two years since the Rich Girl Killer first got a name. It was an isolated murder when Quinn Gallagher’s wife was killed. As soon as he struck again, he became a serial killer and the wealthy families of Kansas City went on alert. Big money and big news go together.”
    She was onto something there. Rafe’s hands fisted at his sides. These reporters were a lot more interested in covering a break in a case where the city’s elite were targeted than, say, the murder of a working-class schoolboy who’d been shot walking home from school and had died in a police officer’s arms.
    All the more reason to keep Josie’s name out of the investigation. Not only would the extra publicity make it nearly impossible to keep her a Jane Doe, but the notoriety would thrust her into a spotlight that nobody in their right mind would want to be a part of.
    Rafe fixed his gaze on Spencer Montgomery as he thanked Chief Taylor and stepped up to the microphone. He’d better damn well be true to his word and keep any mention or description of Josie out of his presentation.
    “Could you hurry up?” A shrill man’s voice from near the front door couldn’t shake Rafe’s focus. “I’ve got a living to make here. Today?”
    Since Montgomery was getting the room up to speed on the investigation details to date, and hadn’t even held up Josie’s description of the killer yet, Rafe turned to see what the commotion behind him was about. He saw a balding linebacker of a reporter grab his camera from the security guard who’d cleared him through the front door checkpoint and barrel toward him. Rafe tried to step aside, but the man was intent on looping the camera strap around his neck and the collision was inevitable.
    “Whoa. Sorry, officer, uh…” The stout man angled his head to read Rafe’s name off his uniform pocket. “…Delgado. Excuse