Attempting to salvage the moment, he said to her, “It’s a neurological disorder. I was born with it. It’s not like an STD or anything.”

Bristol laughed and said, “I know what Asperger’s is. I have a cousin who’s on the spectrum.”

“They say that if you’ve met one person on the spectrum, then you’ve only met one person on the spectrum.”

She winked at him and said, “I’m sure.”

The thin man at the end introduced himself as Deputy Chief Edgar and the man beside him as Officer Juliano. Burke tore his gaze from Bristol long enough to look down at the two men. Chief Edgar shook hands with Carter and thanked him for coming so quickly.

But Officer Juliano wasn’t looking at Carter. The officer’s eyes were narrowed at him. He fought to maintain his composure, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than to turn and head back to the car. He had no clue what he had done to offend the intimidating officer, but that was usually the case when someone looked at him with such anger.

“Why would an ASAC come down from on high for this?” Officer Juliano said.

In his peripheral vision, Burke saw that the cop’s gaze didn’t wander until he punctuated the sentence. With an unfaltering smile and a soft but commanding voice, one that brought to mind a PBS grandfather reading stories to adoring grandchildren, Carter said, “Full disclosure. I’m a field agent at heart. I would get bored as hell if all I did was sit behind a desk and write my name on shit.”

All three cops laughed and nodded. Burke made a mental note: ASAC Carter disarmed people I had previously offended with only a few words. His mannerisms and techniques may be worth further study.

Still reeling them in with his charming smile and calming voice, Carter said, “How about you gentlemen, and lady, show us the inside of that fancy RV of yours, and we get those hostages out of there safely.”

Burke wanted to add that long-term data suggested that eighty-five to ninety percent of hostage situations resolved nonviolently, but he kept his mouth shut for fear of sounding and feeling stupid.

Chapter 17

As they approached the comm center, Nic Juliano tried to nail down his feelings on August Burke. What the hell kind of a guy walked up to a total stranger, especially one who looked like Bristol, and said something like that?

Nic opened the door to the massive RV and held it for the others. Bristol and Dr. Burke had fallen to the rear.

Nic found Burke’s eyes and said, “After you, Mr. Burke.”

“It’s Dr. Burke actually, and I insist, after you.”

“What exactly are you a doctor of?”

“Criminal Psychology.”

“You look pretty young to have a doctorate?”

“I’m old enough. Getting older by the minute. After you.”

“I insist.”

“Fine, but then you’re going to have to wait while I smoke,” Burke said.

He pulled out a pack, shook one to the top, and pulled it out with his lips. Then he lit the cigarette with a tarnished old Zippo lighter.