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“Casey?” Claire poked her head around the conference room door. Even though Casey had her own office, the whole team knew that this was her favorite place to work.
Sure enough, she was sitting at the oval table, typing information into her laptop, Hero relaxing at her feet.
She and Hero both looked up at the sound of Claire’s voice. Hero wagged his tail, and Casey beckoned Claire in, a hopeful glint in her eyes. She knew that look on Claire’s face—and what it usually yielded.
“You made some kind of sensory connection?”
“More than one,” Claire replied. “You have time?”
“Are you kidding? I’m losing my mind because of how slowly we’re moving forward. Sit.”
Claire complied. “By the way, where’s Ryan? He’s not in his lair. And I need his input on a couple of drawings I made.” She indicated the pieces of paper in her hand, which she now placed on the desk in front of her.
“He and Marc are on their way to Chicago. They’re going to be there for a few days. Ryan’s got a new gadget that he says will yield detailed call information all stemming from Jim Robbins’ burner phone.” Casey gave Claire a wry grin. “As usual, I only half understood Ryan’s explanation, but you and I both know that he and Marc will come back with something significant.”
Claire nodded. “Fine. Then we’ll muddle through my stuff without him.”
She spread out the three sheets of paper, angling them toward Casey. “These are fairly accurate depictions of Julie’s killer’s tattoos. It took me a while to be able to visualize them, but I finally did. This one”—she pointed at the first sheet, which was a sketch of a bull—“is etched on the killer’s upper right arm. Next”—she pointed at the second drawing, which was birds flying over the horizon—“is on his upper left arm. And the last one”—she pushed the third drawing, a sketch of a sailing ship, toward Casey—“is on his right forearm.”
“Wow.” Casey studied each drawing carefully, marveling at Claire’s detail. “Wow. That was quite a connection you made. And obviously, these particular symbols stand for specific things. I wish we knew what nationality we’re dealing with. That might narrow down our research.”
“The killers are Russian. The symbols are, too. I was hoping Ryan could dig up a tie between whatever basic information we come up with to an actual gang or sect who wore this combination.” Claire blew out a breath, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “On the other hand, it could be a random combination of symbols, not tied to any one group.”
“We’ve got to find out.” Casey was picking up her burner phone. “Only I’m not sure Ryan is our best source on this one. I’ll let him know what you picked up on when he checks in, but we need inside info—crime families, gangs.”
“Hutch?” Claire guessed.
“Yup.” Casey punched in a number. “I’m calling Lisa and getting her permission to bring Hutch in, at least on this peripheral level. He doesn’t need to know the case details. He just needs to offer us his expertise. And Hutch has seen everything.”
She paused as Lisa answered, and then tersely explained that they had an FBI contact who might be able help them out without knowing names or case specifics. Sure enough, Lisa agreed.
Casey hung up and used her own cell to call Hutch. She knew she’d probably get his voice mail, since he was busy orienting himself to his new job.
“Hey,” he surprised her by answering, although his head was definitely elsewhere. “Everything okay?”
“Fine. Sorry to bother you,” Casey replied. “Can I borrow you for a few minutes after work?”
This time, he chuckled. “Sweetheart, you can borrow me for a lot longer than a few minutes.”
Casey’s lips tugged into a smile. “Get your mind out of the gutter, SSA Hutchinson. What I need you for is work related.”
An exaggerated sigh. “You sure know how to hurt a man’s ego.”
“Your ego and your libido are in excellent shape. No worries on either score. And
I do promise to give you as much time to address the latter as you—we—want. But first…”
“I know. Help on a case. I’ll come by the brownstone around six thirty.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “Now go back to work. Make them wonder how they ever lived without you.”
She hung up and turned to Claire. “He’ll be here. And he’ll zero in on what we need fast.”
Quietly, Claire added, “I can also give you descriptions of the killer and the guy driving the car. The descriptions aren’t as detailed as the drawings, but I jotted down every physical characteristic that came to me.”
Hearing the shaky note in her teammate’s voice, Casey looked up.
“There’s something else,” Claire stated.
