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A soft laugh. “You’re tough to win over.”
“Have your way with me a few more times. I might reconsider.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Long, silent minutes passed.
Broaching the inevitable, Hutch rolled over, throwing an arm over his head and sprawling out on his back. “It’s bad enough you play by your own set of rules,” he said. “But you’re reckless, too. That ransom drop could have gotten ugly. We’re trained to handle that. You’re not.”
“Point taken. But I didn’t have time to arrange a posse. I had to act fast. Plus, I wasn’t sure it was a ransom drop. All I was sure of was that Hope was acting weird. Then she left abruptly—right after her father showed up. I didn’t think—I just took off after her.” Casey tipped her head back to look up at Hutch. “That’s as close to an apology as you’re going to get. I hope it makes the grade.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “You really are a piece of work. Yeah, fine, it makes the grade. I’ll give it a C+. But as for our methods—we’re never going to have a meeting of the minds on those.”
“True,” Casey agreed. “The good news is that the FBI task force is now on the same page with us about the two kidnappings probably being related. Your team can drill the hell out of Sidney Akerman and Joe Deale, and my team and I can soft-pedal it.”
Hutch gave her a quizzical look. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that organized crime is the FBI’s forte. But there are other ways to skin a cat. There are tons of subtleties yet to explore. Law enforcement’s job is clear—to chase down every viable lead, from the mob to the other suspects on your list. Which makes Forensic Instincts’ job just as clear—to hunt down more subtle leads, through the more subtle sources.”
“Just to clarify, you’re totally abandoning the idea that Krissy’s kidnapping might be an isolated event?”
“You know me better than that. I never abandon anything—not until the case is officially, and successfully, closed. I have a few avenues left to travel on the isolated kidnapping theory, although my gut tells me they won’t pan out. Nothing illegal, I promise. Mostly, I want to pursue the related kidnappings theory. I plan to go over the Felicity Akerman case file with Patrick. He’s going to be an invaluable resource in recreating the past—for your team and mine. I want to take in everything he tells me. Then I want to talk to Hope and, most importantly, to Vera Akerman. If Sidney was in trouble when Felicity was kidnapped, his family might know more than they realize. Hope, from a child’s innocent perspective, and Vera, from a wife’s real-life observations. I want to hear about friends. Business associates. Even casual acquaintances who struck an odd note.”
“It sounds like you’re reaching.”
“Maybe we are. But we don’t have a clear suspect, just a lot of muddied waters. So between your tried and true methods and our unconventional ones, we’ll have all the bases covered.” Casey propped herself on one elbow. “Speaking of unconventional methods, stop eyeing Claire Hedgleigh with such skepticism. She’s for real, and she’s good. I’m hoping to convince her to come work for my company once this case is behind us.”
“Duly noted. I guess my personality and training make it hard for me to believe in psychics.”
“Then think of her as a highly sensitized intuitive. She’d like that description better anyway.”
“Is that the argument you used on Marc and Ryan to get them to welcome their new colleague?” Hutch asked with a grin.
“Something like that. Marc’s very similar to you. He’s dubious, but reasonable. Ryan’s less open-minded. Then again, I think he’s dying to get her into bed, and hasn’t come to terms with it. She’s a one-eighty from him and from the women he’s used to.”
“In other words, she’s not climbing all over him.”
“Exactly. So his reaction to having her around on a daily basis isn’t entirely professional.”
“Mixing business with pleasure,” Hutch said drily. “It’s a lousy idea.”
“True.” Casey’s eyes twinkled. “Then again, sometimes you just can’t help yourself.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Hutch concurred in a husky voice.
He pulled Casey over him, bringing the conversation to an abrupt close.
My doubts had been wrong, my protests in vain.
It had been worth the risk.
Krissy. Watching you cradle the panda and the robin makes me all the more certain that I did the right thing by following orders and breaking into your house. And spraying the robin with that perfume… Now, you’re sleeping peacefully—at last.
I’ve got to make you willing. This plan can’t work without that. Your old life must cease to exist.
Or you’ll cease to exist.
Day Four
