Ryan looked surprised. “I didn’t know you were doing that.”
Claire sighed. “Ryan, you’re grieving much more deeply than even you realize. You’re also shouldering your family’s grief. In short, you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. This was something I could do, and do well. I have contacts in this field. There was no need to burden you. You play an enormous part in two investigations. Until they’re both solved, you can’t make peace with Shane’s death.”
Briefly, Ryan shut his eyes, reaching for her Claire’s hand and squeezing it. “You’re amazing.”
“So are you.” Claire slid to the edge of the sofa. “Stay with Kennedy. She needs your presence. Your mom and I communicate well. I’ll talk to her about Casey and me interviewing, first her, and then Kennedy, tomorrow. We’ll get here early—before Kennedy’s awake, so we can talk to your mom alone, and I can also return her cell phone to share with the FBI. We’ll bring the completed list of Caitlin’s social media friends that Emma compiled. As for your siblings, I’ve already touched base with each of them. Your dad, too. I set up times for Casey and me to meet with them individually. That eliminates the need for Casey to make a slew of phone calls, and expedites our strategy.”
Ryan gave her another surprised look. “Pretty damned organized, Claire-voyant. And here I thought I was the grounded one in our relationship.”
“Most times you are. But, once in a while, it’s okay for our roles to reverse.” Compassion softened Claire’s gaze. “This time, I get to be the rock and you get to be scattered and out of sorts. It’s a good balance. That’s why you and I share what we do. Give in gracefully, tough guy.”
A corner of Ryan’s mouth lifted. “I’ll try. But when these cases are solved, all bets are off.”
11
Casey and Hutch’s apartment
Battery Park City
Manhattan, New York
7:05 pm
Casey and Hutch were sitting at the kitchen nook, munching on their pizza and drinking one glass of wine each—Casey’s stipulation, since she was about to get on a meeting with her team. Hutch had agreed since he’d brought home a ton of work, too.
“I get the office for an hour,” Casey said, sipping at her wine. “After that, I’ll work in the living room armchair and the office is yours. Deal?”
“Deal.” Hutch helped himself to another slice of pizza, speaking in an offhanded tone. “And while you’re on the call, mention to your team that contacting retired FBI agents is going to be a no-go. Former agents, too. All your creative attempts are going to strike out. So save yourselves the time and aggravation. It’ll all end the same way it did with SA Grogan and SA Adams. Oh, and James Harkins, too—current FBI members are the biggest no-no of all.”
Casey put down her glass. “Have you wiretapped our office?” she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.
“I don’t need to. I know how you think and how your team operates.” Hutch took another bite of pizza, chewed, and swallowed. “And by the way, I know we made light of it, but I meant what I said about impeding a federal investigation. That’s a crime I can’t ignore—not even for you. So stop. Now.”
By this time Casey was bristling, partly because she hated taking orders, but mostly because she knew her husband was right.
“I get your point,” she replied in a tight voice. “And, just to reassure you—and to take you down a notch—we’d already reached that conclusion on our own.”
“Good.” Hutch leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him, a grim expression on his face. “And one more thing. I expect to be kept in the loop about everything FI uncovers—regardless of the source. No exceptions. No games. I mean it, Casey.”
Casey blew out an angry breath. “Or what? You’ll shut down FI?”
“That’s not what I want, and you know it. So just cooperate and all will be well.”
Casey took a hard bite of her slice of pizza. “I hear you.”
“I know you do.” Hutch didn’t avert his gaze. “I’m concerned about whether you’ll listen to me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Hutch’s eyes twinkled. “At least you’re being honest with me. If you’d out-and-out agreed, I’d know you were lying.” He reached across the table, interlaced his fingers with hers. “I don’t mean to be a hard-ass, Case. I’ll give you as much leeway as I’m able. But it’s a short leash. I have no choice.”
Casey’s anger dissipated. “I know. I respect that. But please respect me and my team. We have a job to do. Not to mention that Shane was Ryan’s cousin. That’s as personal as it gets. We’ll stick as close to the straight and narrow as we can, and share our findings with you—soon after we get them. And our poking into the bureau is over. Is that enough?”
“I’ll try to make it enough.”
“Have I told you what a great guy and an even better husband you are?” Casey asked, squeezing his fingers.
Hutch’s gaze turned tender. “On occasion, yes. Lucky for you, you happen to be my soft spot.”
