Andrea Kane - The Line Between Here and Now

“Fine.” Casey knew exactly what was on Marc’s mind. “And, yes, Amanda did ask for you. But Patrick is there in his security capacity. And Amanda has started to trust him in a kind of father figure way. So she’s in good hands. You can’t be in all places at all times, Marc. I know you want to save Justin. We all do. But that’s not always accomplished by being Amanda’s babysitter. She’s a strong woman. And, as for the investigation, she needs to count on all of us, not just you.”

“I’m not trying to play knight in shining armor,” Marc assured her. “And I know very well what a shrink would say-that I’m compensating for what I’ve witnessed in the past by trying to save this one infant’s life. I’m sure that’s true. I’m also sure that nothing is going to erase memories that are burned inside my brain. But I’m the one who took on this case. I feel responsible-not only to Amanda, but to the team.”

“I know you do. That’s who you are.” Casey thought for a moment. “You’re right. There’s nothing else you can accomplish in Long Island, not at the moment. So come home. You drive. That way, Ryan can keep doing his computer search on the road.”

The two men sat across from each other in the private room, their conversation low and intense.

“They’re trying to tap into the FBI’s resources now,” one of them said.

“I know. And we can’t let that happen.” The second man slammed his fist on the table. “What the hell does it take to scare these pain-in-the-ass investigators off?”

“We haven’t found it yet,” the first man replied. “But we will.”

Fallujah, Iraq

The trip had been arduous-and it still wasn’t over.

He’d caught the first flight to Ali Al Salem Airbase in Kuwait City, where he’d taken a military transport to Baghdad. If he was being stationed at the New Embassy Compound, it would be fairly simple, assuming the daily threat condition was in his favor. But he was heading out of Baghdad, traveling to Fallujah and one of the forward operating bases. Ground transportation was an impossibility. He would have to rely on military transport by helicopter. And who the hell knew when that could be arranged? Between the sandstorms that shut them down, the limited seating and the erratic schedule, it could be days before he traveled the ten fucking miles to his destination.

The urgency for this had been off-the-charts, and unnecessary.

Something was going on.

He just wasn’t sure what.

Claire had the oddest feeling.

And it wasn’t a happy one.

It was one of deception. And the deception was happening within the tight circle of Forensic Instincts.

She paced around her apartment as long as she could. She had to share this with someone. But who?

Ryan.

She had no idea why his name popped into her head. She could just as easily have talked to Casey or Marc or Patrick. But, for some reason, she knew the one to talk to was Ryan. The aura of deceit didn’t come from him. It was elsewhere, cloudy, but real. But Ryan’s aura was clear.

They’d probably argue. But she had to take a chance.

She pressed his number on speed dial.

“Hey, Claire-voyant, what’s up?” He sounded preoccupied.

“Are you back in the office?” she asked.

“Nope. In the car. Why?”

Instead of an answer, Claire asked another question. “In the car-where?”

“On the way back to the city with Marc.” He sounded more attentive now. “Is there a problem?”

“I’m not sure. I’m also not sure why I called you about it. But would it be possible for Marc to drop you off at my place?”

“Now that sounds intriguing.” The familiar teasing note was back in his voice.

“It is. But not for the reasons you mean.” Claire didn’t banter back the way she normally would. She was too preoccupied.

A slight pause. “Sure. We’re almost home anyway. And I’ve been working since we left Westhampton Beach. I can take a milk-and-cookies break.”

“I have soy milk and organic wafer cookies. I also have full leaf tea and three different kinds of all-natural juice.”

“How will I choose?” Ryan asked wryly. “How about a Blue Moon?”

“What?” Claire was genuinely puzzled. “I can’t conjure up a blue moon. They only occur on the rare seasons when there have already been three full moons and…”

“The beer, Claire, not the lunar phenomenon.”

“Oh.” Claire was quiet for a moment, digesting that piece of information. “I’ll have a Sam Adams. My father drinks those.”

“Thank God for your father. Sam Adams it is. I’ll be there in about a half hour.”

Claire was still pacing around her studio apartment when Ryan arrived.

“Hi,” Claire said as she let him in. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem.” Ryan was surveying the place, which was so the antithesis of his computer and gadget-crammed apartment, it was almost funny.

Shutting the door behind Ryan, Claire turned to say she would get him his beer when she noticed what he was doing and realization struck.

“You’ve never been here before,” she announced. She’d been so consumed with her sense of unease that she’d forgotten all about that fact. She’d also forgotten to give Ryan her address.

“Yeah, I know.” Ryan strolled into the living-room area, still taking in the uncluttered, softly decorated apartment. “Nice place. Very you. Am I allowed to sit on the sofa? Or is that only for show? Do I have to go for lotus position on the floor?”

Claire ignored his taunts. “I never gave you my address. How did you know where I lived?”

Ryan’s smile reached his eyes. “Didn’t Casey tell you? I hack into everyone’s personnel files when they first come on board. It makes me feel more connected to my teammates.”

“That’s reassuring. Isn’t it also illegal?”

“Isn’t lots of what we do?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Good thing I have nothing to hide. Have a seat-on the sofa, since it’s allowed. I’ll get your beer.”

She headed into the galley kitchen, returning a minute later with a bottle of Sam Adams and a plate of cookies. “Isn’t it a little early in the day for a drink?” she asked, handing him the bottle and setting the plate on the coffee table.

“Normally? Yes. After the night I’ve had? No.”

“Understood.” Claire sat down across from Ryan, her brows knit in concern. “Watching that office burn to the ground must have been pretty unnerving.”

“Not nearly as unnerving as wondering if Marc and I were going to be able to escape the scene without being killed by whatever nutcase torched that shack.” Ryan tipped back the bottle of beer and took a healthy swallow. “And now Amanda got a threatening phone call. I’m sure Casey told you.”

“She did. I called into the office this morning. The threatening phone call doesn’t surprise me. I’m constantly bugged by the sense of being watched-not just Amanda, but all of us. We must be getting closer to some truth or we wouldn’t be scaring people. I was more upset about Justin’s setback.”

“Yeah, that poor little kid. I hope he can hold on.” Ryan’s lips thinned into a grim line. “I never thought I’d be the team member who had to keep it together for the group, at least not outside my area of expertise. But Casey is a wreck, and Marc is practically apoplectic. Even Patrick’s getting emotionally involved, I guess because he’s a father. And you’re always a walking testament to empathy and compassion. So that leaves Hero and me. Oh, and Hutch, who’s doing some unofficial poking around for us.”

Claire didn’t argue the point. The fact that everyone was acting out of character didn’t please her. Not in light of what she was sensing.