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Hutch let the hot water beat down on his body as he quickly and methodically showered. Despite how straightforward and sure he was coming across to Casey, he was uncharacteristically unsettled about how this conversation would go. The pride and excitement she’d feel about his accomplishment and its subsequent reward were a given. But that’s where the certainty ended. The reality would sink in. And how would it be received? As an opportunity for them? The opening of a door? Or the shutting of one, based on her perception of this as an invasion of space?
Hutch just didn’t know. And that was an anomaly for him. Reading people was his forte and his job. And Casey? He knew her better than anyone else did, partly from what she offered him and partly from what he deduced.
She was a very complex person. Raised in a reserved family of sky-high achievers, she was used to sharing her mind and her convictions but never her emotions. Her innermost self was a mystery—except to him—and her deepest feelings were well hidden, even to the FI team. It often amazed Hutch how little of herself Casey shared with co-workers who were truly family. Yes, she was always there for them and demonstrated loyalty, caring, and compassion. But asking for that caring and compassion in return? No way.
She never allowed her soul to surface, not really. She was determined to always be a strong leader for her team. She never forgot for a minute that she was the boss. So she made sure to always be a take-charge woman who was at the top of her game. Displaying indecision or uncertainty meant signs of weakness.
And caring too deeply was taboo.
Hutch had shot that last part to hell. It had taken more than a year of tirelessly breaking down those walls, getting her to lower her guard, to trust him, and to finally admit that she loved him.
It had been worth every ball-breaking moment.
And for months it had been enough.
Now it wasn’t.
Hutch turned off the shower water and grabbed a towel, vigorously drying himself so he could get out there and address this eight-hundred-pound gorilla soon to be in the room.
Funny how life played out. The biggest personal crossroads of his life was dovetailing with the biggest professional crossroads of his life. He’d been a key player for the Bureau’s Counterterrorism Department as they foiled a major plot against the US. That victory had led to an extraordinary offer. And the implications of that offer would affect the course of his future.
He knew what he wanted.
It was time to find out if Casey wanted the same thing.
Chicago, Illinois
Shannon couldn’t take it anymore. Her fear was too great, her patience too limited.
Sequestered in her bedroom, she curled up on her bed, pulling her favorite blanket over her. It was times like this that she felt as if she were a helpless little girl again.
Sometimes she wished she were a regular kid who’d gone the regular teenage route. But the path she’d chosen—not to mention the horrors of what was going on these past few weeks—extinguished any childhood she had. Innocence and naivety were things of the past.
Now, tears slid down her cheeks. She’d promised Julie she wouldn’t go to the police. And she recognized that Julie was right. They had nothing to offer in terms of proof.
Julie was hunting for it. But Shannon couldn’t wait. She had to find it.
So, yes, she’d promised Julie that she wouldn’t go to the cops. And, yes, when she’d first found out the truth about Jim, she’d promised Julie she wouldn’t confront him, either. But that was then. This was now. Circumstances had changed—and a life had been lost.
Jim might be the weakest link. Maybe he’d blurt out something. Maybe just the fact that Shannon would surprise him by getting in his face would be enough to trip him into giving up a name or a piece of pertinent information. Maybe. But maybe was enough. Shannon couldn’t survive on Julie’s Facebook messages alone. She was unraveling. She had to stop the pain.
The decision was made. She was going to see Jim. Now.
Forensic Instincts
Fourth Floor
Seated at her cozy kitchen nook, Casey curled her hands around her coffee cup and studied Hutch. He’d adjusted his stool so he was angled across from her, rather than beside her. Clearly, he wanted to take in her physical cues as well as her verbal ones. And clearly, he intended to facilitate what they were about to discuss. Casey would have her say. But right now, this was Hutch’s show.
Those omelets were going to have to wait.
Hutch’s expression was sober as he stared into his coffee mug, lifting it to his lips for a brief swallow before putting it down.
“You’re making me very nervous,” Casey said. “I feel like I’m one of your profiling targets.”
Hutch didn’t smile. But he did meet her gaze. “This isn’t a profiling session. But it is a significant conversation. And it’s time we had it.”
His tone and choice of words made Casey’s thoughts take a frightened detour. She’d assumed this talk was going to be about them and their relationship. But Hutch sounded like it went far deeper than that. “You’re okay, right? You’re not sick.”
