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“Where is everybody?” she asked.
“Ever hear of knocking?” Ryan’s gaze never left his monitor.
“Why? Is this a private sanctuary?”
“Actually, yeah, it is.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Then put a lock on the door. Or at least keep it shut.” She walked over to Hero, who’d jumped up from his nap the minute she walked in. He gazed at her hopefully, and with good reason. Claire was definitely the soft touch of the team, not only in her handling of the cases, but in her handling of Hero. Her sensitivity went right along with her pale blond hair, light gray eyes and willowy figure—not to mention the ethereal quality that emanated from her.
She didn’t have many buttons that set her off. But Ryan McKay was one of them.
Now Claire’s lips curved as she scratched Hero’s ears. The bl
oodhound’s gaze was locked on her.
“In my pocket,” she told him, reaching in and pulling out a piece of cheese. She offered it to him. He slurped it up and swallowed it in one bite.
“You’re a doormat,” Ryan noted. “And you’re going to put five pounds on him in less than a year.”
“It’s low-fat cheese. No harm, no foul.” Claire scanned the room, taking in the workout equipment, the vast array of computers, servers and network wires, and the centerpiece of the room: a long line of semicompleted robots—all surrounded by a pile of metal and plastic parts that were just waiting to be used.
“I wouldn’t worry about my touching anything in your precious basement,” she retorted. “I’d trip and kill myself if I tried. Plus, I don’t know what half this stuff is anyway. Especially your toy section. Robots were never my thing.”
“No, you’re more of a tarot card girl.”
Despite her vow to remain impervious to Ryan’s barbs, Claire grimaced. “You’re so narrow-minded, it’s sickening. And FYI, I don’t do tarot cards. Or Ouija boards.”
“Séances?”
“Nope.”
“You’re a boring psychic.”
“And you’re a pain in the ass.”
Ryan spun his chair around, leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. He looked disgustingly amused. “Nice comeback. Cold, too. I’m getting to you.”
Claire shot him a look. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Then why’d you drop by? No one uses the basement but me. The conference room is two flights up.” He pointed at the ceiling.
“I know where it is.” Claire folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here because I got a call from Casey. She said we’re having a full team meeting. I went straight to the conference room. When no one was up there, I chose the obvious—you. You live in this cave. So, I came down to check and see if you knew anything.”
“Yup. A full team meeting it is. Casey called me, too.” Ryan glanced at his watch. “She’s on her way. So’s Patrick. And Marc’s in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee and probably eating my trail mix.”
“Fine. Then I’ll go up and wait.” Claire hesitated. “Did you find anything?”
Ignoring Claire’s question, Ryan leaned forward and pressed the print button on his computer. A handful of pages glided out. He strolled over and picked them up, perusing them as he did. “You’ll know when everyone else does,” he said at last.
Claire didn’t answer. Trying to reason with a preschooler was pointless. She just left the room and shut the door behind her with a firm click.
Ryan glanced up at the closed door, his lips curving into a lazy smile.
* * *
All humor was off ten minutes later as the team gathered around the conference room table.
“I met with Amanda Gleason,” Casey began, hands folded in front of her. “Marc was dead-on in his assessment. The woman is desperate. The situation is heartbreaking. Time is of the essence. And we’re going to save this baby at all costs.” She turned to Ryan. “What do you have for us?”
