Tyler glances at me, Indy, and Ace, and we all give him quick nods. Then he turns his attention to the laptop set on the table in front of us and frowns at it. “I thought Seattle was supposed to be cloudy,” he mutters as he tilts the screen to offset the glare from the morning sun filtering through the curtains.
“Seattle gets around one hundred and fifty days of sun a year,” Ace replies. “Less than the national average, but not too bad. We could be up in northern Alaska, where they get sixty days of dark.”
In unison, everyone’s heads swivel towards Ace.
Indy’s lips twitch. “I didn’t realize you moonlighted as a weatherman, Ace.”
Webb’s chuckle filters through the laptop speakers. “Thinking about a change of career, Ace?”
“Hey, you try running in the rain every morning,” Ace retorts. “Can you blame me for wanting to know when I’ll actually get to be dry doing it?”
“Don’t Rhiannon and Hawk go running every day?” Tyler muses. “Rain or shine? I’m pretty sure that’s what they said yesterday.”
In his little square on the screen, Rafe smirks. “You afraid you’re going to melt, Ace?”
Ace makes a rude gesture at Rafe. But he’s smiling as he does it. “You never know.”
“I’m sorry you have to run in the rain,” I tell Ace. Because, really, it’s my fault he’s out there. If not for me, he’d be back at B and A, doing his daily workout in the climate-controlled gym in the basement instead of dodging puddles on sidewalks.
Indy clasps my hand beneath the dining room table and gives it a little squeeze. “Don’t apologize, Bea. Ace is just being a big baby.”
Ace reaches past Tyler to punch Indy in the shoulder. “Hardly.” Then he looks at me, his expression turning apologetic. “Sorry, Bea. I was just joking. Trying to lighten the mood, you know. I don’t mind running in the rain.”
“Do you need a windbreaker?” I ask. “I could look online.”
“Nah.” He pats my arm. “It’s fine. Really. Don’t worry about it.”
“Well.” Rafe coughs. “If the weather forecast is over, maybe we can get on with this?”
Everyone sits up straight. Smiles fade. Just like the last time I sat in on a team meeting, the atmosphere shifts from light-hearted to all-business in an instant.
But unlike the first meeting, this one is being held virtually, with half of us—me, Indy, Tyler, and Ace—in Rainier Beach, andRafe, Webb, and Eden joining in from B and A headquarters. I was a little surprised to see Eden pop into the call, since as far as I know, she’s not involved with Blade and Arrow business, but I’m sure I’ll quickly find out why she’s here.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Indy asks in an undertone. His eyes are dark and worried as he looks at me. “You don’t have to be here for the meeting. I can tell you about it after, if that’s easier.”
I squeeze his hand back before replying quietly, “I want to be here. I need to be.”
And what kind of coward would I be if I weren’t? Everyone is herebecauseof me.
“Okay,” Tyler says. “I’ll start. And Eden, you’ll jump in when I get to the science-y part.”
Eden barely covers a smile. “Got it. I’ll do the science-y part.”
Hmm.
Science-y stuff? I’m not sure how that ties into Jenna’s murder, but I guess I’ll find out.
Tyler clicks the mousepad a few times, and the display splits so he has the conference call on one side and what looks like a medical file on the other. “Alright,” he says. “As you know, I’ve been investigating the hospital where Bea works. Looking into HR complaints, any instances of patient harassment, security breaches… and initially, I wasn’t finding anything.”
“Aside from when we broke in there,” Indy interjects in a wry tone.
“Aside from when you broke in,” Tyler agrees. “But aside from that, nothing. I looked into all of your patients, Bea, and Jenna’s, too. And there were no red flags, nothing to indicate?—”
“But a lot of those guys, they’re struggling with PTSD,” Webb points out. “And we know how that can flare up unexpectedly. Even if there’s nothing in their history to indicate a threat…”
“True. But.” Tyler zooms in on the medical file. “I don’t think this has anything to do with a former patient of Bea’s or Jenna’s.”
I lean in to peer at the file. It belongs to a man named John Adamson, fifty-seven, former patient at my hospital and?—
