Claire tipped up her chin, her gaze meeting his. “I love you,” she whispered. “You’re not alone.”
“I know.” Ryan’s eyes shut, as he let the balm of Claire’s love ease his emotional torture. “I also know that, since this nightmare began, I’ve been asking way too much of you.”
“No you haven’t. Not even a little.” She kissed his shoulder. “Besides, I just got a reprieve. This more than made up for that booty call we never managed to have last night.”
A hint of a smile curved Ryan’s lips. “It was just a start. We have the rest of the night for encores.” He pressed his lips into her hair, all humor having vanished. “I don’t want to think. Not until tomorrow. For tonight, I just want to make love to you.”
Claire looped her arms around his neck. “That sounds ideal.”
Asia
Location: unknown
Time: unknown
The room was dark, except for the glow of several large displays.
Inside, the operative shoved aside his half-empty can of Red Bull and leaned over the keyboard. He’d received his orders. Penetrate the FBI database and exfiltrate the necessary information.
Swiveling around, he glanced over at the refrigerator humming in the corner. He rose, checked the contents behind its dirty glass door. It was well-stocked with shelf upon shelf of liquid human fuel.
Given the intense security he needed to penetrate, it would be at least a three-can night.
He shut his eyes and began the journey into hell.
Offices of Forensic Instincts
Tribeca, Manhattan, New York
First floor conference room
Monday, 7:00 am
The team—John Nickels included—had already helped themselves to coffee, and were gathered around the room in tub chairs, iPads open and ready.
“Welcome, John,” Casey began, a twinkle in her eye. “Given the role you customarily play with the team, I feel safer already.”
John didn’t smile. “That’s kind of you, considering I fell down on the job when you needed me most,” he replied. “I’m so sorry, Casey. I never saw that bullet coming.”
“Neither did Hutch and he was right beside me,” Casey responded without missing a beat. “You’re the best there is, John. It all happened too fast for anyone to stop. And I’m just fine. So toss the guilt.”
“Consider it tossed.” John’s rigid posture eased. “As for running the NYPD aspect of this investigation, I’m looking forward to the challenge. And I can still be FI’s lead security guard, as needed.”
The whole team knew that was true. John was always Patrick’s go-to person when security of any kind was needed. Not only was he as professional and conscientious as they come, his track record was superb. Plus, he looked the part. At well over six feet tall, John had the body of a linebacker, and an icy stare that could freeze a criminal in their tracks. As for the NYPD, he’d served in the homicide department for two-and-a-half decades before retiring. During his successful career, he’d also worked a few joint task forces with Patrick. So when the time came for John to say good-bye to his old life, Patrick had cleared it with Casey and snatched John up for Forensic Instincts.
There’d never been any regrets—not from either side. John fit right into the group, and they called on him time and again, sometimes to protect clients, sometimes to protect team members themselves. He was smart, he was shrewd, and he knew when and how to fly by the seat of his pants.
Now, Casey leaned forward, interlacing her fingers on the workstation in front of her and addressing Patrick. “What did you and John work out?”
Patrick was ready with his reply. “First of all, other than emergencies, I’ve relieved John of his security responsibilities and substituted strong replacements in his stead until this case is solved. Much as I know he can handle both, I want his efforts focused on the NYPD aspect of this investigation.”
“I totally agree,” Casey responded.
“John and I amassed a long list of his current and retired allies in a multitude of precincts, and not only homicide cops,” Patrick continued. “He’ll start reaching out to them today. I was stunned by the number of people he knows, and how many of those people he’d feel comfortable approaching about Shane.”
Ryan jumped in at this point, turning to face John. “That’s great. I already hacked into the NYPD’s database, and Yoda and I compiled a list of Shane’s cases, as well as the cops who worked with him and the criminals who were involved. Tomorrow, you and I can start cross-referencing them with your contacts. Anything else you need as we move along, just tell me. I’ll get back into the NYPD system and dig up answers. Sporadically. So I don’t raise suspicions.”
John nodded. “We’ll accomplish what we need to. Count on it. And Ryan, it goes without saying how sorry I am about Shane.”
