Marc rubbed a palm over his jaw. “Because of the way it’s worded. It’s meant to sound like a threat from the killer, probably to throw off the FBI and the killers if the text were to be intercepted. Whereas, in fact, it’s a plea for help. Caitlin is a smart woman. She’s frightened for herself, but she’s frantic for Kennedy. This suggests that she has reason to feel that way. It’s up to us to figure out how Kennedy fits into the mix.”
“I’ll put extra security on her as soon as we wrap up this meeting,” Patrick said. “I don’t like the implications here.”
“Agreed.” Ryan’s lips were drawn into a grim line. “Also, Casey, you and Claire have a meeting set up with my mom at eight this morning, before Kennedy wakes up. Once the poor kid is awake, you’ll interview her next. Claire made the arrangements with my mom, so she’ll ease Kennedy’s way. She’ll make sure Kennedy knows it’s just Claire and another friend from FI who’ll be chatting with her. That’ll calm her down. We’ve got to get ahead of the FBI. They’ll be setting up interviews with her and with my mom by later today.”
“I agree,” Casey replied. “I assume you kept your mother’s text message private?”
“The FBI knows nothing about it,” Ryan said. “They’ll find out this morning—after Claire returns the phone to my mom. At which point, my mom will show it to the agents and let them take it from there.”
“The line she’s giving the FBI is that she was too overwrought about the funeral to check her messages until this morning,” Emma surmised aloud.
“Exactly.”
Claire spoke next. “Casey, speaking of jumping the gun, you and I have appointments to talk to all the McKays today. I’ll give you the times and places.” She waited for Casey’s thumbs-up. “And Marc, thank you for all the items you brought me from Shane’s house. I wouldn’t have sensed any of the things I did without them.”
“Glad it helped. Oh, and by the way, I also canvassed Shane and Caitlin’s neighborhood, dodging federal agents as I did. I had a few interesting conversations. I shared them with the rest of the team earlier. Ryan, you and Claire go check out the cloud. I posted my notes there.”
“Anything significant?” Claire asked.
“Just appetite whetters—things to keep on the back burner in case we need to revisit them.”
Ryan leaned forward with interest. “Did any of the agents spot you?”
“Fortunately not.” Marc frowned, remembering what he needed to warn them about. “Without getting into unnecessary detail, Hutch has blocked all our efforts to speak with Bureau staff, past and present. He also informed Casey that he’s taking a hard line with us. That closes the door on our information-gathering from the Bureau. So how do we pursue Caitlin’s probable hideaway in the Boston area?”
“My question exactly,” Ryan said, visibly frustrated. “We’ve got to put our heads together and get creative.”
“Not too creative,” Angela interjected. “We’re already withholding information. With Hutch laying out rigid parameters, any move we make that hints at obstruction of justice will result in having Forensic Instincts shut down and land our asses in jail.”
“Agreed,” Casey said. “So from this point on, we primarily stick to John’s efforts with the NYPD and any covert snatches of information we can figure out on our own to finding Shane’s killer. Most of our efforts have to be channeled into locating Caitlin, and finding and eliminating any threats to Kennedy that exist. Ultimately, all these things are tied together. And my gut tells me that if we accomplish the latter, it will lead to the former.”
“I’m totally on board with that,” Ryan said. His brows drew together. “I’ve got to come up with some way to figure out a more precise location in the Boston area for Caitlin without tipping off the FBI in the process. Maybe Yoda and I can come up with something—fast.”
“I think you’re the best one of us to tackle that,” Casey replied. “None of us has your strategic skills where it comes to technology.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “I know.” His gaze shifted to John. “Let’s get to the NYPD aspect of things. Any new developments to report?”
“Actually, I made decent headway tonight,” John replied. “A lot of return calls. At this point I’ll need Yoda’s help in bringing order to chaos.”
“Consider it done. I’ll give you access to it right after this Zoom meeting is over.”
“No need, Ryan,” Yoda chimed in from the lair. “I’ll make it available to John right now. You continue your strategizing.”
John stifled a grin. Yoda’s participation and omniscience were still new to him. “Thanks, Yoda. I’m sure that’ll enhance my scope. As things stand, I talked to a few of Shane’s most recent former colleagues. They offered up whatever they could remember: names of some released felons who Shane helped put away, and names of still-incarcerated ones, just in case they have contacts on the outside doing their dirty work for them. Yoda’s list will verify and expand on that.”
“On a more personal note,” John continued. “I also have meetings scheduled with the detectives who attended Shane’s funeral. Hopefully, they’ll be able to provide additional information, since they were tight with him. And, lastly, I’m waiting for the rest of my own contacts, who are researching and paring down cases for me. I’ll interview as many of them as I can—hopefully, all of them. The combination of everything I just outlined should cover all our bases at the NYPD and, with a modicum of luck, lead us where we need to go.”
“If that’s where we need to go,” Casey clarified.
“Right.”
Ryan shot John a grateful look. “Thanks so much. What you’re doing is huge.”
John’s lips thinned into a grim line. “Thank me if it leads us to our killer.”
Marc and Madeleine’s Duplex
Upper East Side
