Again, Marc’s face showed nothing. But the way he stopped in his tracks and gazed back at Ryan, that searching look in his eyes, spoke volumes. Ryan wanted to kick himself for being so transparent and so abrupt. He’d make a lousy addition to the BAU.
“On Amanda,” Marc replied. “I haven’t talked to her since Justin took a turn for the worse. Plus, I want to talk to Hutch while he’s here. I haven’t even seen him yet. I know he’s calling his FBI contacts to see what he can find out about Paul Everett-if anything. I still have a few contacts at the Bureau myself. I want to see if I can help him.” A pointed pause. “Why? Do you need me for something?”
“No.” This time, Ryan kept his interest in check. “I was just curious. I know how invested you are in this case.”
“If you’re worried that I’ll let my baggage cloud my judgment, don’t. It never does.” Another pause, this one speculative. “Just let me know when Morano has his trailer set up. We’ll reverse our tracks and head right back to the Hamptons to install Gecko in the trailer. A baby could break into one of those. We’ll have Gecko in place in twenty minutes.”
Casey spent a good hour in her private office upstairs, watching Mercer’s press conference online. Or, to be more specific, watching Mercer at his press conference.
He was a charismatic speaker, yet he also came across as very warm and sincere-a real family man with solid family values. Some of it was genuine, some was exaggerated. Just like every other politician.
He was definitely uneasy about the whole blood donor situation. Every time the press said something about his altruistic gesture, his lips thinned into a tight smile, and Casey could almost see his internal wince. He wanted the baby to survive. But he didn’t want the details of his genetic relationship to Justin to come out. Mercer was also intimidated by his “father.” Lyle Fenton was standing on his left. And Mercer was angled away from him, his face slanted to the right, his body positioned as if to shield himself from Fenton.
The whole situation would be fascinating if it weren’t so maddening. There was nothing in this clip that could help Amanda. For her purposes, it didn’t matter why the congressman had taken the steps he’d taken, only that he had taken them. Now it was back to the waiting game. The complete testing results didn’t come back for almost two weeks. While FI knew that Amanda and Mercer were loosely related, Amanda didn’t. And the biological connection was weak, at best. So the odds weren’t good.
Finding Paul Everett was still the best, maybe the only option. Flying under the radar wasn’t working, especially since FI’s involvement was public knowledge at this point. Not to mention the fact that they’d put some dangerous people on high alert.
Forget subtlety. It was time to be more aggressive.
“Maybe you should let it go.”
Casey started. She hadn’t heard Hutch come in.
“Let what go?” she asked. “Mercer? I don’t think so. If anything, I’m starting to think we should confront him.”
“About what-being Fenton’s son?”
“About the fact that we know he’s Fenton’s son. Also, about the fact that we know he’s in Fenton’s pocket. It might make him more amenable to telling us anything else he knows about-like Fenton’s involvement with Paul Everett’s supposed death.”
“I doubt he knows anything.” Hutch shrugged. “I realize you’re getting desperate. But I’d leave that avenue alone.”
Casey blinked. “Leave alone a dirty politician? I can’t believe this is you. Are you, Supervisory Special Agent Kyle Hutchinson, the most honorable person on earth, actually suggesting I turn my back on corruption?”
Hutch’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, although I thank you for the slightly exaggerated compliment. I’m suggesting you find a donor match for little Justin and stop being sidetracked. That’s not just my professional opinion, it’s my personal one. Getting Amanda’s son healthy is what you were hired for.”
Something wasn’t sitting right with Casey.
“Did you reach your contacts?” she asked.
“Most of them, yes.”
“Good. Because you’ve been in there for hours. What did they tell you? Is Paul Everett in the federal system?”
“They didn’t tell me anything. No one could give me information about Paul Everett or about any investigation involving him in any capacity.”
Casey rose slowly, her eyes narrowing on Hutch’s face. His choice of wording didn’t escape her. “That’s pretty vague.”
“Actually, it’s very definitive.” Hutch’s expression was totally nondescript. “I tried my best to help you out. But there’s nothing I can say. It sucks, Casey. But it’s a dead end.”
“A dead end,” Casey repeated. “Nothing you can say. Nothing anyone could tell you. Nothing you could get. That’s an awful lot of nothings.”
“I realize that. I’m sorry. I was hoping to help your investigation.”
“But you didn’t. Then again, you already know that. You told me
“That’s true.” Hutch didn’t avert his gaze. “So maybe it’s time to widen your search for a donor.”
“Or maybe it’s time for you to tell me the truth.”
“I just did.”
“You made sure to word things perfectly. But the truth? That’s crap.” Casey walked right up to him. “What’s going on?”
His jaw tightened. “Leave it alone, Casey.”
She was quiet for a long moment, just scrutinizing his face.
“Wow,” she said at last. “This is even bigger than I thought. They shut you down, didn’t they? Whatever’s going on, they don’t want Forensic Instincts involved. This must be some major career-building case. No wonder we’ve got the bad guys so nervous. There’s a lot more at stake for them than our search for Paul Everett. He’s part of a much bigger picture.”
Hutch didn’t answer. Then again, he didn’t have to.
“You’re coming through loud and clear,” Casey told him. “I guess that means that figuring out what the bigger picture is will be FI’s job.”
“No.” Hutch’s tone was hard. “FI’s job will be to find some other way to save Justin Gleason. Paul Everett isn’t an option.”
“That’s the FBI’s opinion. Not mine.”
“You’re playing with fire, Casey. That’s as much as I can say. I don’t have too many details-but I have enough to know you’re in danger. So drop it.”
“There’s no chance in hell. Do you have any idea how good the odds are that Paul Everett will turn out to be the best match for Justin? Do you know how fervently Amanda’s been counting on that national donor list and coming up empty? Do you know that her son-of-a-bitch uncle, who’s her closest living relative, isn’t a match? Do you realize that Mercer and his kids are long, long shots?” Anger sparked in Casey’s eyes. “Do you understand that you’re practically telling me to let a baby die to protect your precious Bureau?”
“That’s not what I’m telling you.” Now Hutch was getting angry. “But if more powerful forces than you haven’t found Paul Everett, FI isn’t going to, either. Assuming you’re right-and I’m not saying you are-and he is part of some massive investigation, you’re wasting your time hunting him down. That’s time you could be spending finding a viable donor for Justin.”
“Do you know where he is?” Casey demanded.
“I haven’t a clue.” Hutch’s jaw was working. “And, if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”
“Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?”
“Both.”
“Dammit, Hutch.” Casey was furious. “I’m trying to save a baby’s life. And you’re clinging to some stupid bureaucratic rules?”
