“How much did you tell Fiona?”
“Nothing,” Ryan replied. “Obviously, she knows there’s something weird about the pendant. But I let her know our call was confidential. So there won’t be any leaks.”
Casey nodded again. The team had formed a tight friendship with Ryan’s sister, especially after they’d saved her life. So there were no doubts about her integrity where FI was concerned.
“Cool.” Emma was still processing Ryan’s findings. “So Caitlin’s been watching everything Kennedy does. Not so cool that she has to watch the pain she’s in, see how much she cries.”
Ryan waved away Emma’s assessment. “I was pretty upset about the last part of what you just said. Then I realized that Caitlin can’t view much of Kennedy’s physical reactions. The only time she can see her is when Kennedy’s either gazing at herself in the mirror or staring at the pendant when she takes it off.”
Marc looked intrigued. “Good point. The pendant is around Kennedy’s neck, facing outward. So, for the most part, Caitlin is watching everyone else, not Kennedy.”
“Yup. Exactly.” Ryan swallowed. “It’s not very uplifting, but at least it eases my angst a little. Caitlin must be going through hell. The last thing she needs is to be haunted by Kennedy’s pale, tear-streaked little face.”
“I agree one hundred percent,” Casey concurred, choking up as she spoke. “Just watching Kennedy grieving yesterday broke my heart.”
She cleared her throat, brought herself under control. “On to you, Claire. Obviously, I was with you at Ryan’s parents’ house, as well as with our interviews of the rest of the McKays—which yielded no new information—so no need to restate that. But none of us knows anything after that. So tell the team about what took place when we were with Kennedy, and then fill us all in about the rest of the day. The floor is yours.”
Claire explained her talk with Kennedy, as well as the perceptions that had steered it in the right direction. Then, she went on to tell them everything about her interaction with Shane’s and Caitlin’s personal items, and what she’d deduced from that.
John spoke up first. “Are you suggesting we back away from our NYPD interviews?”
Claire shook her head. “No. I’m not suggesting we back away from anything. I’m definitely not ready to rule out Shane’s law enforcement connections as part of the puzzle. Not until I can zero in on what the exact threat is and who it’s coming from. It’s just that I keep getting the sense that this atrocity was personal as well as—” She broke off, her gaze growing faraway.
“Claire?” Casey asked at once. “What is it?”
Claire gave a slight shake of her head. “I’m not sure. But I’m getting the oddest sensations. Caitlin’s aura is growing stronger, clearer. Her presence is intercepting my other sensory perceptions—even those involving Shane. It’s like she’s fighting to get through…” Abruptly, Claire turned to Ryan. “Arrangements are in the process.”
“She’s sending me what I asked for,” Ryan deduced, gazing steadily at Claire, who he’d quickly filled in on his plan. “Which means it will show up earlier than expected. I’ll be out of here by ten thirty, and arriving an hour later. I’ll tell my mom to expect me for an early lunch.”
The McKay Residence
East 236th Street
Woodlawn, Bronx, New York
Wednesday, March 15, 11:55 a.m.
Ryan jumped out of his Corvette and slammed the door, locking it as he did. He’d hit traffic and he was ripping. He’d called his mom three times from the road to make sure no package had arrived for him. She’d assured him the answer was no. He’d cut off her questions until she’d wisely stopped asking them.
No one else on the team had had crucial recaps. There was no word from any hospitals of someone matching Caitlin’s description who had required treatment, and no significant forward motion on the NYPD. So Ryan had taken off, only to be stuck behind one asshole after another.
Finally, he was here.
He strode up to the front door, his sharp gaze sweeping the steps. Nothing. Not that he expected there to be. Someone would have to be home to receive the package. Caitlin couldn’t use a credit card, so it would be COD.
Ryan rang the bell, turning to look up and down the street. No van of any kind in the vicinity. If Caitlin was doing as he asked—and, after what Claire had said, he had no doubt that she was—her tasty gift had yet to arrive.
Maureen opened the door. “Lunch is on the table,” she said without preliminaries. She could sense that Ryan was practically vibrating.
“Thanks, Mom.” He glanced past her. “Where’s Kennedy?”
“In the den.” Maureen pointed. “Watching some martial arts movie while she waits for you.” A quick once-over. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Ryan replied. “Just follow my lead. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Ryan!” Kennedy rushed into the hall and hugged him as if she hadn’t just seen him the night before.
“Hey, sunshine.” He gave her a hard squeeze. “I hope the movie is good—but not too good. You’ll have to put it on pause. Aunt Maureen is worried that you and I are both starved and withering away.”
