It was as if the red haze abruptly cleared from his head. He frowned, eyeing Casey in an entirely different way. “You’re white as a ghost. You’re also weaving on your feet and in visible pain, that’s how much this marathon day took out of you. The car service is outside. Go home. Now. Take Hero. I’ll be working at the field office all night anyway.”
“No thanks.” Casey fought with her last ounce of strength. “I’ll stay here in my old bedroom. You’ve issued your edict. Now, please leave.”
“Casey, your old bedroom is four flights up. You’re in no condition to tackle that.” Instinctively, he reached for her.
Casey backed away. “Don’t even bother playing the devoted husband,” she said. “I’m not interested. I want my privacy. And I do need to eat something and lie down. I’ll pass your directive on to my team tonight, as soon as I wake up. Good night, SSA Hutchinson.”
Offices of Forensic Instincts
Tribeca, Manhattan, New York
Friday, March 17, 8:05 p.m.
Casey had walked back to the library, where she’d sunk down onto the leather sofa, swallowed one of the sandwiches she’d ordered, and then forced herself to lie down.
She’d rested her body, but her mind was wide awake. Hutch had been distracted by her physical discomfort. But he wasn’t finished with his interrogation. He’d want to know more about the laptop cases—what was in them and where they were going. And there was just so long she could put him off before supplying answers.
Rather than fighting her anger, she’d spent her resting time tamping down on it, and ordering herself to think rationally, to work through what had to be done next.
Unfortunately, she knew just what that had to be. She wouldn’t jeopardize her company or her team, and she couldn’t count on Angela being able to defend this away. It was impossible.
Time to back off, work behind the scenes, and achieve their goal through channels only they knew about. She was still playing with fire, and she knew it. But there was no other way.
“Our guests have arrived,” Yoda broke the silence to announce.
“Thanks, Yoda.”
Rising, Casey fought a wave of dizziness, determined to push through the rest of this night’s drama before dragging herself up to bed. A lot had happened, and there was still a lot more to come.
She waited for the lightheadedness to pass, collected her strength, and made her way into the foyer, watching as Ryan opened the door and stepped inside, empty laptop case in tow.
“Hey, boss,” he greeted her, looking on the verge of collapse himself. He led Maureen, Colin, Kennedy, and Nolan inside.
“Hey back.” With that, Casey turned and walked over to Maureen, grasped the older woman’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry for what you went through. I readied everything for the three of you to settle in. We’ve got a guest room on the third floor with a queen-size sofa bed and more than enough room for a foldaway.” She gave Kennedy a gentle smile. “Hi, sweetie.”
The little girl was huddled between Maureen and Claire, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wide with shock. “Hi,” she managed. “Thank you for not making us stay at the house.”
“Of course not. We want all of you here.”
Colin stepped forward, extended his hand to shake hers. “Ms. Woods, I’m Colin McKay. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your hospitality. Under the circumstances…” His voice broke. “Just thank you.”
Casey shook his hand. “Don’t thank me. And please call me Casey. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, we’re very informal here.” A slight smile curved her lips. “Ryan resembles you. So does Fiona.”
Colin smiled back. “I’ll take the credit for their coloring and Ryan’s height. But, thankfully, Fiona is a lot prettier than I am. And call me Colin; we’re also informal.”
“Consider it done,” Casey replied.
“Hi,” Nolan said, stepping forward and introducing himself. He also had his father’s height and striking features, but his coloring was more like his mom’s. “I’m just the chauffeur tonight. But I also appreciate your kindness. I’m the eldest of the McKay kids, and tonight I’m feeling my age.”
They all chuckled—a tense chuckle, but one that felt good after all that had happened.
Casey gestured toward the library. “I’m sure you’re all exhausted. But you have to eat. So I ordered in a tray of sandwiches, there’s coffee and tea in the kitchen, and our fridge is stocked with beer, soda, and bottled water.” Her eyes twinkled as she directed her gaze at Kennedy. “And, as it happens, a tray of cookies arrived with the sandwiches. They need to be eaten. Do I have any volunteers?”
This time, Kennedy smiled. “I’ll volunteer. Thank you very much.”
Claire was studying Casey intently, clearly disturbed by what she saw. She moved forward to take charge.
“Food sounds great, Casey,” she said, urging everyone into the library. “I’ll do the serving. As things stand, we didn’t have the chance to enjoy Maureen’s famous corn beef and cabbage.”
