“Okay, Aunt Maureen.” Clearly, Kennedy knew when to stop pushing. She picked up her spoon and resumed eating her potato soup.
Ryan was torn between roaring with laughter and excusing himself so he could read the card.
His curiosity won that war.
“I’ll be right back.” He pushed back his chair. “Then I promise to finish off every spoonful of my soup.”
He walked to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and shut and locked the door.
There he pulled the card out of his pocket, and read:
Bean—dessert, debris, pat’s, late four.
Ryan reread the coded words three times until he had them memorized in order, complete with punctuation.
Then he stuffed the card back into his pocket.
The decoding process was going to have to wait.
16
Offices of Forensic Instincts
Ryan’s Lair
Tribeca, Manhattan, New York
Wednesday, March 15, 5:30 p.m.
Ryan had gotten back a half hour ago. Thankfully, Agent Barkley had gone easy on both his mom and on Kennedy, making Ryan’s goodbyes that much easier. He needed to get back, to his lair and to Yoda.
So, after huge hugs and promises to return as soon as he could break away again—not to mention withstanding a boatload of bragging by Kennedy, who’d won the ice cream contest by a landslide—he’d packed up his Guinness brownie and headed back to the office.
Now, he was hunched over his computer, and he and Yoda were hard at work, decoding Caitlin’s message.
“The Bean part is easy,” Ryan began. “Caitlin is telling us she’s in Boston, which we already suspected.”
“I agree, Ryan,” Yoda responded. “‘Dessert’ is challenging. She’s certainly not telling you about your brownie, which you already knew. Nor, do I believe, about either your mother’s or Kennedy’s treats. However, if we follow the logical sequence of her wording, ‘dessert’ would signify the place in Boston where she’s telling you to go.”
Impatiently, Ryan nodded. “You’re right. But why ‘dessert’?” What place would that equate with? A bakery? Which one?” He broke off, his forehead creased in thought. “And where is there a Boston bakery that makes great Guinness brownies? I went to MIT in Cambridge—until I dropped out—and spent a shitload of time in Boston. Believe me, I’d know if there was a place that did.”
“Excuse me, Ryan, but I believe you’re being too literal.”
Ryan’s head came up. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, I just performed a destination search in Boston, specifically seeking out locations where college-aged students flock to. It appears there’s a street in Boston where there are several highly frequented night spots. The street is called Guinness Way. Does that hold any memories for you?”
Ryan shot up like an arrow. “Yes. Yoda, you’re brilliant and so am I for creating you.” He rushed on. “There was a bar on Guinness Way where I used to hang out at when I didn’t want to study or cram for my exams—which was most of the time. The bar was called Mickey’s Tavern. Great beer. Great burgers. Great music. Caitlin and Shane went there with me two or three times when they visited.”
“Mickey’s Tavern.” A brief pause as Yoda tapped into his data banks. “The bar is still there,” he confirmed. “Number 101. I just confirmed that with an aerial sweep.”
“Yesss!” Ryan punched the air. “So we have our place. Now we need specifics.” He calmed down, muttering, “The problem is that Caitlin would never arrange an in-person meeting. Not after taking such great pains to remain in hiding.”
“I agree. Caitlin would not want to appear in public—either inside or outside of a tavern. So how would she connect with you?”
“The exact way I planned—a drop site. So there has to be a spot near Mickey’s where she would expect me to leave her—” Ryan broke off and began to laugh. “‘Debris.’ Of course. The second time Shane, Caitlin, and I went to the tavern together, we all left more than a little drunk. Shane tripped over the trash can just outside the bar. He fell and broke his big toe. His toe of all things. Not exactly a macho accident. We busted his chops about it for a week. That’s an event Caitlin wouldn’t forget—nor would I.”
“Therefore, she wants you to leave her something in that trash can?” Yoda inquired.
