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Before Hutch could reply, his cell phone rang.
He picked it up off the nightstand and answered it. “Hutchinson.”
“Hello, Hutch,” was the reply. “It’s Patricia Carey. I know you’re in New York, taking a few days off. Are you free to talk?”
Hutch couldn’t mask his surprise. He’d known Executive Assistant Director Carey for a dozen years, and they’d even worked together on several violent crimes investigations earlier in her career. They’d always shared a mutual respect, and even an occasional beer. But now that she was an Executive Assistant Director, they didn’t exactly travel in the same circles. And they definitely didn’t exchange social calls.
“Uh, yes.” He glanced up at Casey, about to request some privacy. “Just give me a minute.”
“If that minute involves asking Casey Woods to leave the room, don’t. I want her there. Or am I being too presumptuous?”
Hutch sat down on the edge of the bed with a stunned expression on his face. “You’re not being presumptuous. I just don’t understand why you’d…”
“Why I’d know you were involved with Ms. Woods? Or why I’d want her participation in this telephone conversation?” A hint of humor. “The former is common knowledge. As for the latter—please ask her to stay.”
“All right.” Hutch held up a detaining palm.
Casey halted in her tracks, a puzzled expression on her face.
“One last thing before we have Ms. Woods join in,” Patricia said. “You and I have worked together in the past. I’ve since followed your career. Your reputation is stellar. Plus, I trust you. So here’s my question—I’m aware of the fact that Forensic Instincts is trying to locate Paul Everett—and uncovering a wealth of information in the process. Please put your personal feelings about Ms. Woods aside. Are she and her team trustworthy?”
Trustworthy meant different things to different people.
“In what regard?” Hutch asked, trying to discern whether Patricia meant honorable or lawful.
Patricia read his mind and chuckled. “I don’t mean, do they follow the rules. I’m more than cognizant of the fact that they both bend and break those. What I mean is, if I were to strike a deal with them—one that would benefit their client—would they honor it?”
“Absolutely.” That one was a no-brainer. “I can vouch for their integrity, beyond the shadow of a doubt.”
“I assumed you’d say that. And I’m relieved. Now, would you please put us on speaker?”
Still totally at sea, Hutch did as she asked, beckoning Casey over as he did. “You’re on speaker, ma’am,” he said. “Casey, you’re talking to Executive Assistant Director Patricia Carey.”
Casey’s brows arched. Patricia Carey was the FBI’s highest ranking female, reporting to the Director himself.
“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Carey,” she said.
“The feeling is mutual,” Patricia replied
. “Forensic Instincts has earned itself quite a reputation in a few short years—along with a few bent noses here at the FBI. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Casey paused, dying of curiosity as to the reason for the call.
“I’ll cut to the chase,” Patricia said. “You want to find Paul Everett. I want to successfully complete an investigation that might require a little creative energy—all within legal bounds, of course. Please understand that the FBI is unyielding about the interpretation of legal. Am I making myself clear?”
“Perfectly.”
“Good. Bearing that in mind, I believe that you and I are in a position to help each other. Are you interested?”
Casey inhaled sharply. “Are you telling me you know where Paul Everett is and you’re willing to turn him over to us?”
“I might be. If you comply with certain stipulations in order to protect him and our investigation. And if, in return, you supply me with what we need to bring this case to a successful close.”
Her wheels turning, Casey considered the confidentiality agreement that FI had with Amanda, and weighed it against the results being promised to her. She knew very well what Amanda would want her to do.
“I’ll give you everything I have,” Casey assured Patricia.
“Excellent. Then we have a deal.”
