“Yes, Ryan. I red-flagged all applicable cases I found together with the NYPD members who worked those cases with your cousin. Some of the criminals involved are still incarcerated and some are on parole. Many of the pertinent detectives have retired. Many others are still at NYPD homicide. And still others have moved on to work in different police departments in other locations in the country. How would you like me to proceed from here?”
A scowl. “The current detectives are not going to be amenable to providing us with information. Even Marc and Patrick will be limited, since, other than task forces, they weren’t working in tandem with the cops. They’re handling the retired FBI-agent questioning, and I’m sure they can eke out a conversation or two with retired cops. But the rest…that’s going to be tough. Start with the retired detectives first. Make a list. I’ll go through it with Marc and Patrick.”
“I’ll begin immediately,” Yoda responded.
“Thanks.” Ryan frowned in thought, then abruptly his head shot up. “What about having John Nickels spearhead this part of the show?” he asked Casey. “I know he’s Patrick’s main guy for our security team, but he also served with NYPD homicide for twenty-five years, before he retired and Patrick snatched him up for FI. He’s got a hell of a lot more viable contacts than any of our other team members. And those contacts will be much more open and willing to talk to John than to talk to the rest of us. We can share Yoda’s list with him, as well.”
Casey considered that possibility, and nodded. “Another good idea. Even though we’ve never used John in that capacity, his record stands on its own. I want to run the idea by Patrick, see where his head is on the concept.”
“Where is he?”
“He and Marc are having lunch with a retired special agent Shane worked with at the New York field office. They hadn’t contacted any retired cops yet. They were going for the few FBI contacts they could muster up. As for the NYPD, your idea of using John in that capacity is great. It’ll yield far better results.” Casey glanced at her watch. “Marc and Patrick should be back within the hour.” She winced again. “I’ll wait until they get here.”
“No you won’t,” Ryan countered, leaning over to shut her laptop and her iPad, and shove them into her case. He rarely took such an authoritative role with Casey; he knew she’d shoot him down in the blink of an eye. But when it came to her health, he was willing to take the risk. “Sorry for the disrespect, boss, but you’re going home. You’ll recap and set up a plan with Patrick and Marc via a Zoom meeting. I’ll talk to Claire right here. You and I will give each other verbal reports. We’ve certainly done it before, especially when you were in the hospital. So call either Hutch or a car service—now.”
Casey had no chance to ream Ryan out. As if on cue, the doorbell sounded.
“Casey’s car service has arrived,” Yoda announced. “The driver is waiting to escort her home.”
Ryan’s lips twitched, and Casey rolled her eyes.
“I rest my case,” he said, going around to help Casey to her feet. “She’s on her way,” he called out to Yoda.
“Very good. I’ll let the driver know,” Yoda responded. “Oh, and Hutch sent a message along with the driver. He said to tell Casey that he expects her to be in bed and resting in forty minutes. He’ll be calling her to verify that his orders are being followed.”
Casey sighed, steadying herself on her feet. “Okay, Yoda. I won’t even finish my coffee. I’m just getting my devices and related case notes.”
“There were no instructions prohibiting that.”
“Glad to hear it,” she replied. “Also, no verification from my husband will be needed. I’ll call him once I’m all tucked in and reassure him that I’ve followed his orders to a tee.”
“That conversation is out of my jurisdiction,” Yoda replied.
Ryan bit back laughter. “I’ll carry Casey’s stuff to the door,” he told Yoda.
“Good. Hutch will be pleased.”
Casey wasn’t laughing as she turned to Ryan. “I’ll call Angela, as well as Marc and Patrick, while you talk to Claire.” A frustrated shake of her head. “I wish I could stay. I feel as if I’m deserting you.”
“You’re not,” Ryan assured her. “The next part of my work has to be done solo, anyway. I’ll be here pretty much round-the-clock, other than tomorrow afternoon and Monday morning, when I’ll be at the wake and funeral with my family. This afternoon, I’m working on recovering all the data on Shane’s cell phone. First up, is checking out his calendar for yesterday. Maybe he had something scheduled that’ll clue us in to how his… killer knew he’d be home.” Even now, Ryan tripped over the word “killer” as it pertained to his cousin.
Casey lightly touched his arm. “Keep me posted. I’m only a text away.”
7
Casey and Hutch’s apartment
Battery Park City
Manhattan, New York
Saturday, March 11, 3:40 pm
Casey had just settled herself on the bed with an afghan thrown over her, a cup of tea on the nightstand beside her, and Hero stretched out on the rug beside her, when the phone rang.
“Good afternoon, Supervisory Special Agent Hutchinson,” she greeted her husband. “I was just about to check in. I’m positioned as ordered.”
Hutch didn’t laugh. “You spent almost eight hours at the office,” he said in a steely voice. “That’s at least four hours too many. If you get off that bed, I’m calling your surgeon.”
