No surprise there. Not when there was a baby involved.
“Is he okay?” Marc asked Casey without prelude.
“Right now, yes. He’s holding his own,” she replied. “For how long? I don’t know. I’m no doctor, but it seems to me that Justin’s compromised immune system can only fight off so many setbacks.” She swallowed, then spoke to Marc with her customary honesty. “If you’re asking me if I’m worried-more worried than before-yes, I am. I feel like the clock is ticking away-louder and louder. I feel like we’re chipping away at our investigation, making small gains here and there, but nothing substantial enough to write home about. Hutch is on it now. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Paul Everett will show up in the Bureau system. But we can’t count on it.”
“I might still beat the crap out of Lyle Fenton,” Marc muttered with none of his usual composure. “You and I both know he’s up to his neck in this whole dirty dealing.”
“I agree. But the bottom line is, he doesn’t know where Paul is. He wouldn’t let Justin die. And finding Paul is all we’re focused on. Law enforcement can handle the rest.”
“Yeah. Right. Fine.” Marc blew out a frustrated breath. “We’re done here. Ryan slapped a GPS on Morano’s car before the guy took off for the arson site. Since then, Ryan’s been digging into phone records. Now he’s back to cross-checking Everett’s and Morano’s pasts. He can do that best in the office. We’ll pack up and head to the city.”
“Fine.” Casey knew exactly what was on Marc’s mind. “And, yes, Amanda did ask for you. But Patrick is there in his security capacity. And Amanda has started to trust him in a kind of father figure way. So she’s in good hands. You can’t be in all places at all times, Marc. I know you want to save Justin. We all do. But that’s not always accomplished by being Amanda’s babysitter. She’s a strong woman. And, as for the investigation, she needs to count on all of us, not just you.”
“I’m not trying to play knight in shining armor,” Marc assured her. “And I know very well what a shrink would say-that I’m compensating for what I’ve witnessed in the past by trying to save this one infant’s life. I’m sure that’s true. I’m also sure that nothing is going to erase memories that are burned inside my brain. But I’m the one who took on this case. I feel responsible-not only to Amanda, but to the team.”
“I know you do. That’s who you are.” Casey thought for a moment. “You’re right. There’s nothing else you can accomplish in Long Island, not at the moment. So come home. You drive. That way, Ryan can keep doing his computer search on the road.”
The two men sat across from each other in the private room, their conversation low and intense.
“They’re trying to tap into the FBI’s resources now,” one of them said.
“I know. And we can’t let that happen.” The second man slammed his fist on the table. “What the hell does it take to scare these pain-in-the-ass investigators off?”
“We haven’t found it yet,” the first man replied. “But we will.”
The trip had been arduous-and it still wasn’t over.
He’d caught the first flight to Ali Al Salem Airbase in Kuwait City, where he’d taken a military transport to Baghdad. If he was being stationed at the New Embassy Compound, it would be fairly simple, assuming the daily threat condition was in his favor. But he was heading out of Baghdad, traveling to Fallujah and one of the forward operating bases. Ground transportation was an impossibility. He would have to rely on military transport by helicopter. And who the hell knew when that could be arranged? Between the sandstorms that shut them down, the limited seating and the erratic schedule, it could be days before he traveled the ten fucking miles to his destination.
The urgency for this had been off-the-charts, and unnecessary.
Something was going on.
He just wasn’t sure what.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Claire had the oddest feeling.
And it wasn’t a happy one.
It was one of deception. And the deception was happening within the tight circle of Forensic Instincts.
She paced around her apartment as long as she could. She had to share this with someone. But who?
Ryan.
She had no idea why his name popped into her head. She could just as easily have talked to Casey or Marc or Patrick. But, for some reason, she knew the one to talk to was Ryan. The aura of deceit didn’t come from him. It was elsewhere, cloudy, but real. But Ryan’s aura was clear.
They’d probably argue. But she had to take a chance.
She pressed his number on speed dial.
“Hey, Claire-voyant, what’s up?” He sounded preoccupied.
“Are you back in the office?” she asked.
“Nope. In the car. Why?”
Instead of an answer, Claire asked another question. “In the car-where?”
“On the way back to the city with Marc.” He sounded more attentive now. “Is there a problem?”
“I’m not sure. I’m also not sure why I called you about it. But would it be possible for Marc to drop you off at my place?”
“Now
“It is. But not for the reasons you mean.” Claire didn’t banter back the way she normally would. She was too preoccupied.
A slight pause. “Sure. We’re almost home anyway. And I’ve been working since we left Westhampton Beach. I can take a milk-and-cookies break.”
“I have soy milk and organic wafer cookies. I also have full leaf tea and three different kinds of all-natural juice.”
“How will I choose?” Ryan asked wryly. “How about a Blue Moon?”
“What?” Claire was genuinely puzzled. “I can’t conjure up a blue moon. They only occur on the rare seasons when there have already been three full moons and…”
“The beer, Claire, not the lunar phenomenon.”
“Oh.” Claire was quiet for a moment, digesting that piece of information. “I’ll have a Sam Adams. My father drinks those.”
“Thank God for your father. Sam Adams it is. I’ll be there in about a half hour.”
Claire was still pacing around her studio apartment when Ryan arrived.
“Hi,” Claire said as she let him in. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.” Ryan was surveying the place, which was so the antithesis of his computer and gadget-crammed apartment, it was almost funny.
Shutting the door behind Ryan, Claire turned to say she would get him his beer when she noticed what he was doing and realization struck.
“You’ve never been here before,” she announced. She’d been so consumed with her sense of unease that she’d forgotten all about that fact. She’d also forgotten to give Ryan her address.
“Yeah, I know.” Ryan strolled into the living-room area, still taking in the uncluttered, softly decorated apartment. “Nice place. Very you. Am I allowed to sit on the sofa? Or is that only for show? Do I have to go for lotus position on the floor?”
Claire ignored his taunts. “I never gave you my address. How did you know where I lived?”
