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“What?” Claire was genuinely puzzled. “I can’t conjure up a blue moon. They only occur on the rare seasons when there
have already been three full moons and…”
“The beer, Claire, not the lunar phenomenon.”
“Oh.” Claire was quiet for a moment, digesting that piece of information. “I’ll have a Sam Adams. My father drinks those.”
“Thank God for your father. Sam Adams it is. I’ll be there in about a half hour.”
* * *
Claire was still pacing around her studio apartment when Ryan arrived.
“Hi,” Claire said as she let him in. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.” Ryan was surveying the place, which was so the antithesis of his computer and gadget-crammed apartment, it was almost funny.
Shutting the door behind Ryan, Claire turned to say she would get him his beer when she noticed what he was doing and realization struck.
“You’ve never been here before,” she announced. She’d been so consumed with her sense of unease that she’d forgotten all about that fact. She’d also forgotten to give Ryan her address.
“Yeah, I know.” Ryan strolled into the living-room area, still taking in the uncluttered, softly decorated apartment. “Nice place. Very you. Am I allowed to sit on the sofa? Or is that only for show? Do I have to go for lotus position on the floor?”
Claire ignored his taunts. “I never gave you my address. How did you know where I lived?”
Ryan’s smile reached his eyes. “Didn’t Casey tell you? I hack into everyone’s personnel files when they first come on board. It makes me feel more connected to my teammates.”
“That’s reassuring. Isn’t it also illegal?”
“Isn’t lots of what we do?”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Good thing I have nothing to hide. Have a seat—on the sofa, since it’s allowed. I’ll get your beer.”
She headed into the galley kitchen, returning a minute later with a bottle of Sam Adams and a plate of cookies. “Isn’t it a little early in the day for a drink?” she asked, handing him the bottle and setting the plate on the coffee table.
“Normally? Yes. After the night I’ve had? No.”
“Understood.” Claire sat down across from Ryan, her brows knit in concern. “Watching that office burn to the ground must have been pretty unnerving.”
“Not nearly as unnerving as wondering if Marc and I were going to be able to escape the scene without being killed by whatever nutcase torched that shack.” Ryan tipped back the bottle of beer and took a healthy swallow. “And now Amanda got a threatening phone call. I’m sure Casey told you.”
“She did. I called into the office this morning. The threatening phone call doesn’t surprise me. I’m constantly bugged by the sense of being watched—not just Amanda, but all of us. We must be getting closer to some truth or we wouldn’t be scaring people. I was more upset about Justin’s setback.”
“Yeah, that poor little kid. I hope he can hold on.” Ryan’s lips thinned into a grim line. “I never thought I’d be the team member who had to keep it together for the group, at least not outside my area of expertise. But Casey is a wreck, and Marc is practically apoplectic. Even Patrick’s getting emotionally involved, I guess because he’s a father. And you’re always a walking testament to empathy and compassion. So that leaves Hero and me. Oh, and Hutch, who’s doing some unofficial poking around for us.”
Claire didn’t argue the point. The fact that everyone was acting out of character didn’t please her. Not in light of what she was sensing.
“So why the urgency for us to talk?” Ryan asked. “You sounded pretty freaked out on the phone.”
“I am.”
“And you came to me. Should I be shocked or flattered?”
“Neither. I came to you because your energy is positive—at least where it comes to this.”
“You lost me.” Ryan made a gesture of noncomprehension. “What is ‘this’?”
Claire took a deep, cleansing breath. “Here’s a ridiculous request for me to make to the guy who hacked into my personnel file, but I’m making it anyway. Please keep this between us. It matters.”
