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“Then that’s what we have to do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Dawn was casting its first hazy light through the windows of the FI brownstone.
Upstairs on the fourth floor, Casey was sick of tossing and turning. She sat upright, raked a hand through her tangled red hair, and scooted up on the bed. She glanced to her side, smiling faintly as she saw that Hutch was still sleeping deeply beside her.
Good to know that she’d tired him out.
With that, she reached over to her computer stand and picked up her laptop, simultaneously switching on the nightstand lamp. She propped her back against the headboard and began reading through the reports her team had been inputting on a daily basis.
It had been a grueling week for them all. They’d been working their butts off as they raced the clock to get a solid lead on this damned PED case. During this time, they hadn’t risked another meeting with their clients; it was simply too dangerous. Casey had no doubt that Lisa’s gym, her apartment, and her excursions were being monitored. Ditto for Miles and Shannon. The three of them were still alive only because they’d done nothing to indicate to the killers that they were a real threat. Bad enough that Shannon had raced halfway across the country to be with “Julie”—an action that Casey was certain had raised a few red flags, not to mention causing a tightening of surveillance. But that wasn’t cause for three messy murders. However, if “Julie” and crew met up with a high-profile investigative team?
That would be suicide.
So it was imperative that distance be maintained.
Ryan had supplied enough burner phones to everyone to keep the lines of communication open between FI and its clients. Since then, he’d been sequestered in his lair, hacking into delicate systems and trying to compile intricate information. Casey could hear an occasional bang, clang, or swear word coming from down there, but she only smiled, knowing that Ryan was working on some contraption that would ultimately help them.
The key word there was ultimately. Not as soon as Casey wanted.
For her part, Emma had truly stepped up to the plate. She’d been talking to Lisa and Shannon several times a day, strengthening her bond with Lisa, and creating one with Shannon. Their chats kept Lisa focused and calm, and Shannon diverted and amused. Emma related really well to teenagers—partly because she was a master at endearing herself to people and partly because she was barely out of her teenage years herself. By making herself the emotional go-to, she was allowing the rest of the team to do their jobs without interruption.
Claire was the most frustrated of the bunch. She’d been spending hours in her yoga room, trying desperately to pick up some helpful energy from Julie’s personal items and, most of all, from Shannon’s stopwatch.
The watch was cold. Icy cold. That’s all she’d gotten, and that’s all she’d given to Casey.
But they both knew what that probably meant.
Seeing Claire’s intensifying frustration, Casey had curbed her own impatience. She knew that Claire had no control over her gift. Sometimes things came quickly, other times not. Unfortunately, this was one of those “not” times.
Patrick was keeping a watchful, if invisible, eye over their clients.
And Casey and Marc were strategizing over how to best use their skills to gain buried information out of their clients, given the limitations of phone contact, which made body language impossible to read. Even videoconferencing didn’t convey enough.
So as of now? They’d basically gained no ground.
Casey sighed, chewing her lip in irked frustration.
“Hey.” Hutch’s voice was gravelly with sleep. “I think I’m insulted. A night like last night and you’re awake, working, and irritable?”
“Hey back, and don’t be insulted.” Casey shut her laptop and set it aside. “I’m irritable a lot these days—other than when you’re casting your sexy spell over me. Our case is spinning in neutral. And you know how impatient I can get.”
“You? Impatient?” Hutch grinned. “Gee, I’ve never noticed.” His smile faded, and he propped himself up on one elbow. “Do you want to talk about it—even theoretically? Maybe I can toss in a helpful suggestion or two?”
Casey’s shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug. “I’m not sure what I can say, and not just because the case is confidential. Because we’re dealing with a dangerous and volatile situation, and the bad guys aren’t showing enough of their hands for us to play, much less to win.”
Hutch digested that quietly. “I’ve been there. My suggestion? Sit down with Marc and start from Ground Zero. Lay out the facts and personalities from the beginning. You’ll find a thread that you missed when you were dealing with the case as a whole. And, even if that doesn’t happen, it’ll get your juices flowing. That’ll break through the wall you’re banging your heads against.”
“Good idea.” Casey couldn’t go into any more detail, so she dropped the subject, instead wriggling over and reaching for Hutch. “Let’s say good morning the right way,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck. “That’ll get my juices flowing, too.”
A low chuckle vibrated in Hutch’s chest. “Your wish is my command.” He pulled Casey over him, and all thoughts of work were silenced for a while.
Marc was in before eight. That wasn’t an accident.
After giving Maddy a quick see-you-later kiss, he’d gratefully left her alone, pausing only to grab an energy bar before he’d hurried out of the duplex.
So much for making love to his beautiful bride-to-be. He was heading for the gym to lift weights and work off some stress, and then to the office.
