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* * *
Across the room, Aidan watched his brother approach. The two men really did look alike—tall, with straight black hair and the powerful builds of Special Ops. But while Marc had inherited the shape and color of his eyes from their Asian maternal side, Aidan’s eyes were navy blue and round. He had a high forehead and a patrician nose. And as serious and unreadable as Marc looked, Aidan looked even more so, making him chillingly intimidating to everyone he faced.
“It’s about time you got here,” Aidan greeted Marc, sliding a glass of wine over to him. “It’s not Joseph Phelps Insignia, but it’s a decent cab. Oh, and here.” He slapped a folded piece of drawing paper into Marc’s hand. “It’s yours. And Abby’s got real talent, except for her perception of size.”
Marc grinned, unfolding the paper. Definitely him, Maddy, and Abby. His adorable niece had drawn a little girl with a mop of dark hair and a party dress, a petite woman with light brown hair and a big smile, and a broad-shouldered man with a sort-of smile and dark eyes, who towered over both females.
“I’d say she got it spot-on,” he told Aidan, refolding the paper and slipping it into his pocket. “I’ll text you both tonight. My text will include high praise for Abby’s skill, loving thanks from Maddy and me, and a big photo of us flanking the drawing on our fridge.”
“Good.” Aidan took a sip of his Cabernet Sauvignon, propping his elbow on the end of the bar. The party was loud enough so that no one could hear them. “So what do you need?”
“Lab results. Yesterday.”
One dark brow rose in amusement. “That long. What are you looking for?”
“Triplet zygosity.”
That captured Aidan’s attention. “Now that’s a new one.”
“We like to keep you on your toes.” Marc picked up his glass of wine and drank as he surveyed the room. This conversation had to look casual and brotherly. There were way too many eyes in the room.
“Do you have DNA samples for me?” Aidan asked.
“Ryan emailed you the results of a twin zygosity test while we were driving. So you have a baseline and we have proof that two of the girls are identical. I’ll have an envelope for you with a DNA sample from the third girl before you leave the party. That’ll give us the confirmation we need that we’re dealing with identical triplets. And, Aidan, we can’t wait days for the results. We need them rushed through.”
“Yeah, I got that. But there’s a certain amount of analysis time for, you know, things called accuracy and reliability.”
“Fine. How soon?”
“I’ll get my contacts to work overtime. I’m guessing a day.” Aidan took another thoughtful sip of wine, studying his brother. “Just how do you plan on getting me that third DNA sample in the middle of a party?”
“Let me worry about that. Just know that when Emma slips an envelope into your jacket pocket, be careful with it. That’s your sample.”
Aidan looked amused. “Will I even feel it happen, given that it’s Emma the pickpocket supplying it?”
“She’ll make sure you know it’s there. Just take care of it.”
“Done. And, Marc, make that text happen before Abby’s bedtime.”
“You mean before your bedtime,” Marc corrected. “Abby tucks you in when she gets her second wind. But not to worry. You’ll get your text.”
“And you’ll get your answers.”
* * *
After fifteen minutes of chichat, Casey had the distinct feeling that Joseph was keeping this conversation clean. He hadn’t once alluded to knowing about any ongoing cases, nor had he made further reference to sisters and Lina in the same sentence. He seemed genuinely intrigued by FI’s different team members’ talents, but not in a digging-for-information way. In short, he either had no idea that Lina had identical siblings out there or he was biding his time before he so much as hinted at the situation without implicating himself. Also, it was difficult to keep talking one-on-one, since everyone at the party wanted a piece of Joseph, and Neil was constantly interrupting to bring someone new into the fold.
Still, Casey’s instincts were rarely wrong. And they were reinforced at the conclusion of the conversation, when Joseph apologized for the ongoing distractions and concluded with:
“I guess this isn’t the best time for a closed group discussion. Donna and I would love to have your team over for dinner one night. Then I could ask all my groupie questions.” A broad smile that enveloped the room. “We’ll call your office and set something up for next week if that works for you.”
Oh, you’ll be seeing us a lot sooner than that, Mr. Brando, once we have those test results, Casey thought, even as she answered, “Of course. We’d enjoy that very much.”
Not so much after you hear what we have to say.
* * *
Emma was in her glory.
