He’d stayed put at his parents’ house until Kennedy’s body gave in and she passed out from sheer exhaustion. Then, he’d carried her up to Fiona’s old room and tucked her into bed.
He sat beside her for a long time, just staring off into space.
Sometime later, his mother had come in. “It’s time for you and Claire to go home,” she’d instructed him. “I just shooed your brothers and sister out of the house. You’re dealing with your own pain and shock. And, knowing you, you’re ready to take on this investigation by yourself, with the help of your team. You need to recoup for that. Dad and I are here. We’ll stay at Kennedy’s bedside all night. You’ll come back tomorrow. Now go.”
Ryan had been too spent to argue. Acting on his mother’s orders, he and Claire had gone back to his place, where he’d collapsed on the bed out of total emotional exhaustion. Claire had waited long enough to send a Slack message to the entire FI team, providing them with all the information she’d been privy to, and arranging for a seven AM meeting in their first floor conference room. Customarily, the meeting would be held in their main conference room on the second floor, but everyone wanted to spare Casey the effort of walking the long, curvy flight of stairs.
That done, Claire had lay down beside Ryan, linking her fingers with his, silently being there to offer her strength and her support.
The rest of the night had passed in silence.
Moments ago, Ryan had vaguely heard Claire leave the room. She returned shortly thereafter, perching at the edge of the bed and handing Ryan a cup of coffee and two ibuprofen tablets.
“Hey,” she said softly. “These will help your headache.”
Ryan gave her a grateful look, pushing himself up until his back was propped against the headboard, and then popping the tablets into his mouth and washing them down with a swallow of coffee. “Thank you,” he said, regarding Claire through red-rimmed eyes.
Claire lay her hand against his jaw. “No thanks necessary.”
He turned his lips into her palm. “I barely heard you leave the room.”
“I know. I was hoping you were resting.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not happening,” he replied, his tone hollow. A deep sigh. “I’m guessing you Slacked the team. What did you tell them?”
“That we’d be meeting at the brownstone at seven am,” Claire said. “I got responses from everyone. They’ll all be there—including Casey.”
Ryan nodded, taking another gulp of coffee. “What time is it now?”
“Five-forty. Do you want a PowerBar?”
“I don’t think I can swallow it.”
“Try,” Claire responded. “You need to be at full strength—for Kennedy, and for Shane.”
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. “I know.”
Claire rose. “I’ll even eat one, along with my herbal tea, suffer though I will.” She attempted the light humor, even though she knew Ryan wouldn’t respond in kind. She was still accessing her inner strength and insights in order to best help Ryan cope. It wasn’t going to be an easy process.
Ryan opened his eyes and turned to meet her gaze. “I don’t even recognize myself. You know me. I can handle anything. Fix anything. But this time—I’m frozen, flailing, with no firm footing and no working strategy.”
Claire ran her fingers lightly through his hair. “That will change. Once you’re at work, with the team’s support and your brilliant mind, you’ll develop a plan and a strategy. Please…cut yourself some slack. This is a crisis that not even a superhero like you can surmount overnight.”
She turned to go get the PowerBars and tea.
“Claire?” Ryan’s voice stopped her, and she looked back at him in question.
“I love you,” he said simply.
Her expression grew tender. “I know. I love you, too. And we’ll get through this.”
Offices of Forensic Instincts
1st Floor, Small Conference Room
Tribeca, Manhattan, New York
Saturday, 6:55 a.m.
