He opened the app, waiting until it was ready, then held his phone up to the front of the pendant, moving it slowly around. The mesh had more than enough pores to allow sound to penetrate and reach what Ryan was looking for.
A minute passed.
Then, as expected, the single beep sounded. That meant that, whoever the engineer was who Caitlin had worked with had made sure that a microelectromechanical system, i.e. a MEMS microphone, was buried inside the pendant.
Caitlin wasn’t only watching, she was listening.
As someone else might be.
Ryan turned off BUGGY. He had to handle this next part subtly and effectively. Caitlin had to understand—loud and clear—what he needed from her. Conversely, he couldn’t alert any eavesdropper to the same.
Which meant using verbal code words, words that would be meaningless to anyone other than Caitlin.
He thought for one long minute, before a self-satisfied grin curved his lips.
Holding the pendant the appropriate distance away, and with the front of it averted so no one could see he was sitting right in front of it, he said, “I’m heading home now, Mom. I’m beat. After working round-the-clock for days, I could sure use a pick-me-up. How about when I visit Kennedy tomorrow afternoon, you surprise me with my favorite dessert?”
15
Claire’s Apartment
East Village
Manhattan, New York
Wednesday, March 15, 6:05 a.m.
After tossing and turning all night, Ryan had given it up and was now sitting, coffee mug in hand, at the breakfast nook in Claire’s one-bedroom apartment.
Taking a gulp of the dark brew, Ryan glanced idly about. Given all the months the two of them had been together, he now felt surprisingly at home here, even though it was the complete opposite of his tech-friendly loft. The muted pastels and a cluster of wicker furniture, complete with a few paintings depicting sweeping landscapes, brought a sense of peace to the apartment. It was Claire, through and through, lovely and ethereal.
They were still spending half the time here and half the time at Ryan’s place. That solution had grown less and less palatable to Ryan as time had passed. He had plans to change it, and soon. The minute this case was solved, he and Claire would be having a different conversation, one he’d been pondering for a while now.
But first, he needed to put things to rest, and to bring peace to himself and to his family.
“Good morning.” Claire interrupted his thoughts, walking into the kitchen wearing her pale blue nightshirt with the words yoga maven on it. “I didn’t hear you get up.”
“Hey.” A corner of Ryan’s mouth lifted. “You were pretty much out for the count. I guess I wore you out.”
“Temporarily.” Claire gave him a teasing look, and then headed over to brew herself a cup of herbal tea. “Did you get any sleep—after you wore me out, that is.”
Ryan shrugged. “Not really. Maybe a couple of hours.”
Claire nodded, putting two oatmeal-raisin muffins on a plate and bringing them over with her tea. She placed the plate on the counter, then slid onto the stool beside him. “You had a lot of heavy things on your mind. For that matter, so did I.” She gestured at the muffins. “Eat. They’re homemade with all natural, good stuff in them.”
“Sold.” Ryan picked up a muffin and took a bite. “Mmm. You might not bake often, but when you do—hey, maybe I’ll give up my day job and be a kept man.”
That made Claire laugh. “You’d be totally bored and starving to death. Neither would work for you.”
Ryan couldn’t argue away that one. “You’re right. But I could live with being a sex slave in between working and eating.”
“I’ll remember that.” Claire grew serious, placed a gentle hand on his forearm. “When are you planning on driving to your parents’ house?”
Ryan put down his muffin and coffee mug. “Agent Barkley is showing up to interview my mom at two. I want to get there well before that so I can take care of a few things, and then get Kennedy out of the house with plenty of time to spare until Barkley arrives. Before I head to the Bronx, I want to bring the team up to speed.” He turned to Claire. “And so do you.”
A definitive nod. “As I told you, last night I got such strong flashes of insight when I held the Washes’ towels again. Shane and Caitlin behind closed doors. The two of them talking about existing danger and the man who was inciting it—a man who’s important and powerful. It feels like something more personal than just a police or FBI case. But not completely personal. A threat that started with Caitlin and Shane, and has now widened to include Kennedy. That’s been since Caitlin ran. Maybe this man thinks Kennedy knows something, or maybe he thinks Caitlin’s been in contact with her. I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that I’m very relieved that Patrick put extra security on Kennedy.”
“So am I. Very relieved.” Ryan frowned. “You and I have managed to give her some hope. But I want to take it a step further. I have an idea, but it hinges on what Caitlin does next and on my racing the clock to do a ton of finely detailed—and extraordinarily brilliant—work, followed by an enactment worthy of Hollywood.”
