Andrea Kane - The Line Between Here and Now

“Let’s not say anything. The less we talk about it, the less significance we’ll be assigning it.” Claire sat up, holding the sheet against her, trying to display the same nonchalance that Ryan’s God-knew-how-many-other bed partners displayed. “We acted on impulse. It was dumb. Now it’s over. Let’s just move on, okay?”

Ryan nodded. “Okay.” He finished getting dressed, ran his hands through his rumpled black hair. “I’ll head back to my place, shower and change. Then I’ll go to the brownstone, where I’ll start checking out the activities of our coworkers, and hope you’re wrong.”

“I hope so, too. But I’m not.”

Ryan nodded again. He crossed over to the door, then paused, glancing back at her. “Listen, Claire…”

“See you at the office,” she interrupted. Whatever he’d been about to say, she didn’t want to hear it.

He took the hint. “Yup. See you.”

He walked out, closing the door behind him.

The handwriting was on the wall, and what it said was beginning to be unmistakable.

Still, Hutch wasn’t ready to give up.

He’d taken steps in a dozen different directions, tapped into more avenues than he could count. There was a pattern forming, one that was making him distinctly uneasy. Curiosity and determination warred with reason.

He pounded the proverbial pavement a few hours longer, being as thorough and creative as he knew how. Ultimately, he went to the highest ranking contact he had in the Criminal Enterprise division.

The answer was the same. Scripted. Terse. Immovable.

Creating an impenetrable wall.

He’d never expected this outcome. But he had to live with it.

And so would Casey.

Ryan set aside his sleuthing into Paul Everett’s and John Morano’s pasts long enough to do what he’d promised Claire. He felt like a shit doing it. There was no “nice” way to justify prying into the lives of his team. He trusted them all with his life.

Still, Claire hadn’t accused them of deception, not of the malicious kind. She was concerned that one of them was employing an iffy tactic while trying to protect the others. Was that possible? Sure.

He did a little poking around in the FI phone records, found nothing, and then gave it up for a while. He was too preoccupied to bury himself in work. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t just forget about what had happened between him and Claire.

Talk about an inferno. They’d practically set the sheets on fire. How the hell was he supposed to forget about that, much less make sense of it?

“Well, I came down here for nothing,” Marc commented, poised in the doorway of Ryan’s lair, studying him intently. “I was going to ask you what Claire wanted to see you about. But judging from the expression on your face, you didn’t do much talking.”

Ryan shot Marc a look. “Casey’s the expert with tells. You’re out of your league.”

“Maybe. But I’m right.”

“Drop it.”

“That off-the-charts, huh? I’m not surprised. Now what? Where are you going from here?”

“Back to work.” Ryan leaned over his computer, deliberately shielding the screen from Marc’s view.

“Where’s Claire?”

“No idea.”

“You’re even pissier than you were before. She really got to you that bad, huh?”

Ryan shrank the window he’d been working in on his computer, spun his chair around and faced Marc with a hard expression. “You’re not going to leave this alone, are you? You, who are so private no one knows your shoe size?”

“Fair enough.” Marc shrugged, unfazed by the verbal attack. “You just look pretty strung out. I thought you might want to talk about it.”

“I don’t even know what it is. And I definitely don’t want to talk about it.”

“No problem. But, for the record-and because I have ten years on you-don’t overanalyze it. Just let it be whatever it is. You’re a smart guy, Ryan. You knew damn well it wasn’t going to be a quick lay. You two are way too combustible for that.”

Ryan’s jaw was working. “I hear you. Can we let it go now?”

“It’s gone.”

“And not a word to anyone.”

“That’s not my style, and you know it. But I wouldn’t expect it to get by Casey.”

“If she figures it out on her own and says something, I’ll shut her down, too.”

Marc nodded. “Since Claire’s not the type to ask for a booty call, my original question remains. Why did she need to see you so urgently?”

This, Ryan had been prepared for. “She had some weird vibes about the investigation.” Stick to the truth. There’s less to remember. “All she was sure of was that it had to do with what I’m currently checking into.”

“Everett’s and Morano’s backgrounds?”

“That’s what I’m working on. So that’s what it must be.”

“Did she give you any specifics?”

“Nope.” Ryan shook his head, swiveling back around to face his computer. “She hated like hell having to call me at all. She knows how little value I place on psychic insights. But I’m the genius who’s going to dig up everything there is to know about Everett and Morano. So she had no choice but to turn to me.”

“Got it.” Whether or not Marc believed him was anyone’s guess. Nothing ever showed on Marc’s face-he was a pro at that. “Then I’ll leave you to your digging. By the way, how do you want to follow up on our plan to bug Morano’s office?”

“Give it a day,” Ryan replied. “Morano’s already in the process of renting a trailer to operate out of. I’m sure he salvaged a good chunk of his work. He’d be an asshole not to have backed it up on a flash drive and taken it home with him-just in case. He’ll be up and running in no time. Gecko will just have a different hiding place to do his reconnaissance.”

Marc chuckled. “Right. And I have no doubt that Gecko will adapt beautifully.” He headed toward the door. “Just let me know when we’re heading back out to the Hamptons. I have some follow-up to do here.”

“On what?”

Again, Marc’s face showed nothing. But the way he stopped in his tracks and gazed back at Ryan, that searching look in his eyes, spoke volumes. Ryan wanted to kick himself for being so transparent and so abrupt. He’d make a lousy addition to the BAU.

“On Amanda,” Marc replied. “I haven’t talked to her since Justin took a turn for the worse. Plus, I want to talk to Hutch while he’s here. I haven’t even seen him yet. I know he’s calling his FBI contacts to see what he can find out about Paul Everett-if anything. I still have a few contacts at the Bureau myself. I want to see if I can help him.” A pointed pause. “Why? Do you need me for something?”

“No.” This time, Ryan kept his interest in check. “I was just curious. I know how invested you are in this case.”

“If you’re worried that I’ll let my baggage cloud my judgment, don’t. It never does.” Another pause, this one speculative. “Just let me know when Morano has his trailer set up. We’ll reverse our tracks and head right back to the Hamptons to install Gecko in the trailer. A baby could break into one of those. We’ll have Gecko in place in twenty minutes.”

Casey spent a good hour in her private office upstairs, watching Mercer’s press conference online. Or, to be more specific, watching Mercer at his press conference.

He was a charismatic speaker, yet he also came across as very warm and sincere-a real family man with solid family values. Some of it was genuine, some was exaggerated. Just like every other politician.

He was definitely uneasy about the whole blood donor situation. Every time the press said something about his altruistic gesture, his lips thinned into a tight smile, and Casey could almost see his internal wince. He wanted the baby to survive. But he didn’t want the details of his genetic relationship to Justin to come out. Mercer was also intimidated by his “father.” Lyle Fenton was standing on his left. And Mercer was angled away from him, his face slanted to the right, his body positioned as if to shield himself from Fenton.