“Not big, bad wolves. Maybe well-meaning wolves that roam too far into dangerous territory.”
“But with proven results.”
“I won’t argue that point. I can’t agree with your methods, though.”
“Fair enough.”
“But speaking of big, bad wolves…” A corner of Hutch’s mouth lifted. “This one thinks that, after we take care of this letter, we should set the case aside for a few hours and adjourn to the bedroom.”
“Before we talk?”
“Definitely. After that, the mood might be shattered.”
“True.”
The two of them pulled out their cell phones and made the necessary arrangements. Then, they put the letter and envelope in a Ziploc, and packaged it for transport. That done, they pulled off their gloves and waited for the FBI messenger to arrive.
A half hour later, the evidence was on its way, and Hutch turned and pulled Casey’s sweater over her head. “A couple of hours off,” he murmured. “That’s all I’m suggesting. We’ve got other people working round-the-clock to find Krissy Willis while we recharge our batteries.”
“Recharge our batteries.” Casey’s eyes twinkled as she unbuckled Hutch’s belt. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”
“With us? We call it sensory overload.”
He swung her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to her fourth-floor apartment, not letting her feet slide to the floor until they were in the bedroom.
They finished tugging off each other’s clothes and tumbled onto the bed, their breaths coming fast and uneven. There was a sexual pull between them that had sparked to life the instant they met, and only intensified as the months had passed.
Now was no exception.
They made love with a passion and intensity that was theirs and theirs alone. Neither of them was foolish enough to believe that a connection like this grew on trees. Their bodies moved in a rhythm that was sheer unison, escalating to a frantic need for completion.
Casey wrapped her arms and legs around Hutch, gasping his name and arching her body hard against his, taking him as deep as she could. Hutch responded by urging her legs higher up on his back, gripping the headboard and driving himself all the way inside her—and then some.
It erupted in an explosion of nearly painful pleasure, Casey crying out as she contracted all around him, and Hutch shouting her name as he poured into her. They drew out the moment as long as they could, before collapsing in each other’s arms, weak and drained and utterly sated.
“Can we stay like this for a couple of weeks?” Casey mumbled into Hutch’s shoulder, when she’d caught her breath.
He chuckled. “A nice thought. Shutting out the world, the job pressures and the conflicts. Just you and me and this.”
“Not viable, huh?”
“Unfortunately not.” Hutch propped himself on his elbows and gazed down at her. “We’ve never come right out and said it, but you do know that what’s going on between us is about a lot more than sex, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. That’s what’s going to make this conversation that much harder.”
“We’re worth fighting for, Casey. Whatever label you want to give our relationship, we both know it doesn’t happen every day. So, no matter how heated a debate we end up having, I’m not walking away. Not unless you ask me to.”
“I’m not stupid.” Casey traced his jaw with her fingertip. “I’m not going to end things over our careers. I’m just going to defend what I believe in.”
“Which is that the end justifies the means.”
“Within reason, yes. My goal here is to find Krissy Willis. I don’t give a damn about the right way to go about it. Any way I find her is the right way.”
Hutch rolled away and scooted to the edge of the bed. “I’m going to grab some water for this talk. You depleted all my reserves.”
Casey smiled. “Now that I doubt. But grab a bottle for me, too. I’m parched. Plus, I think we should have this conversation with our clothes on. Otherwise, we won’t talk at all.”
“Agreed.” Hutch yanked on his boxer briefs and pants, and headed for the kitchen. By the time he returned, Casey was belting her black silk robe and perching at the edge of the bed.
Hutch handed her a bottle of water and sat down in the armchair across from the bed. “Okay, we’re both decent and ready for verbal warfare.”
“Does it have to be warfare?” Casey asked. “I know we have different jobs and slightly different philosophies, but we both want the same results—ultimately.”
“Ultimately.”
“The good news is it’s very rare that we’re working on the same case. Even when the FBI and Forensic Instincts are both involved. Thankfully, this is my team’s first child kidnapping case. I’m hoping it will be our last. So you and I won’t be overlapping too often. Otherwise, we’d probably kill each other.”
Hutch took a swig of water. “Yeah, well, that’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m seriously considering applying for a transfer to BAU-2. They haven’t filled the opening Marc left when he resigned. I’d like to fill it. I’ve had about all I can stomach of crimes against children. It’s time for a change, something I can handle in the way I was trained. If I’m emotionally vested in a case, I can’t do an effective job.”
“So you’d be dealing with adult crimes.”
“’Fraid so.”
Casey blew out a breath. “Won’t that be enjoyable.”
“Like you said earlier, we have to set some ground rules,” Hutch said. “Starting with separating business from pleasure. It’s not going to be easy—assuming I get the job. You’re going to expect more of me than I’m able to give. Such as giving you a heads-up about information yet to be released to the public.”
“And you’re going to expect me to follow a certain path, and to report every discovery I make to the Bureau —to you. It’s not going to happen.”
“I hear you.” Hutch frowned, rolling the bottle of water between his palms. “I know what your job is. What I don’t know is why.”
“Why what?”
“Why you’re so fervent about your investigations. And I don’t mean professionally. I mean personally. You read people well. But so do I. Something happened that lit an emotional fire in your belly—enough to make you go out on your own and start Forensic Instincts. What was it?”
Casey was quiet for a minute. “You do read people well. Especially me. Okay, my team knows, so why shouldn’t you? Yes, there was something that changed my life, and probably my direction.” Another pause. “Do you remember how relentless I was about wrapping up the investigation my team took on right before this kidnapping?”
“The one with that psycho perv who raped and killed all those young women? Yeah, I remember. It was pretty gruesome. I also remember how single-minded you were about catching him. It went over and above the line of duty. That’s what got me started thinking along these lines.” Hutch studied Casey intently. “Why? Does that case hold special meaning for you?”
“Oh, yeah.” Casey blew out her breath. “When I was in college, I had a close friend. Holly. She lived off campus. One day, she told me she had the feeling she was being followed. I suggested she call the police. She did. They blew her off. A week later, she was found raped and murdered, her body tossed in a Dumpster. She’d been there for days, buried in piles of garbage. The bastard who did that to her was never found. I’ll never forget how I felt when I heard the news. It was like a horrible nightmare—one that will haunt me for life. It wasn’t the police’s fault. They had nothing to go on and no manpower to invest in an unsubstantiated complaint. What Holly needed was someone who was skilled enough to help, but not bound by bureaucracy and red tape. Someone with the mind and the resources to sift through suspects and come up with the right answer.”
“Someone like Forensic Instincts.”
“Exactly.”
Hutch’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry you had to live through
an experience like that.”
“Me, too. But I’m sorrier for Holly. She was nineteen.”
“Yeah.” Hutch lowered his head, stared at the carpet. “Now I understand.”
“Do you? You almost ripped me a new one when I followed Hope Willis to the drop site. I did that on sheer instinct, not on concrete facts I was withholding. She could have really just been going to do an errand and it would have been nothing. I realize you were worried about my safety. But you were also pissed that I didn’t clue you in. I can’t always do that. Just like you can’t always release advance info to me.” Casey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not naive. This is going to test us big-time. There are times when it will probably put a huge strain on us.”
“Are you willing to try?” Hutch asked flatly. “Because I am. Like I said, we’re about more than great sex. I’m not willing to throw it all away just because we’re occasionally going to be operating at cross-purposes. We’ll hash it out. We’ll fight. And, yeah, sometimes we’ll combust. Are you invested enough in this relationship to take that on?”
Casey didn’t have to think. “Yes,” she responded. “I am. But remember, I give as good as I get. I’m not going to roll over. And I’m not going to share confidential information with you, any more than you are with me. There are going to be secrets. We’ll have to accept that.”
“As long as those secrets aren’t about us—the private us.”
“Agreed.”
Hutch put down his water and crossed over to the bed. “I think this conversation has come to a successful conclusion.” He unbelted Casey’s robe, slid open the sides. “Now it’s time to celebrate our victory.”
Casey smiled, leaning back on the bed and tugging Hutch down to her. “Consider this to be our toast.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Day Six
Dawn was just breaking. Most of the patients at Sunny Gardens were still asleep.
She wasn’t. She was sitting up in the chair in her room, fretting because it would be days before her baby would visit. Wednesday had come and gone, as had their time together. Now it was Saturday. Or Sunday. But whichever it was, Wednesday was far away.
She could hardly remember their visit, or what they’d talked about. She’d asked Nurse Greene if she’d been there for any of it, and if her baby had given her a hug before she left.
The nurse had soothed her and assured her that their time together had been tender and warm, and the hug had been tight.
Why couldn’t she remember?
She lowered her head into her hands and began to cry.
“Lorna?”
Her head came up. A plump, middle-aged nurse she didn’t recognize had stepped into the room.
“What’s wrong?” the nurse asked.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Nurse Amato. I heard you crying. Are you in pain?”
“I don’t know you. Where’s Nurse Greene?” the woman demanded.
“She hasn’t come in yet.” Nurse Amato walked over, put a hand on Lorna’s shoulder. Lorna could see her name tag now. Denise Amato. A stranger.
She shook her hand away. “I don’t know you,” she repeated. “I want Nurse Greene.”
Nurse Amato gave her a placating smile. “I understand that you don’t want to confide in me. We don’t really know each other. But I don’t want to leave you sad. Would you like to take a walk? We could go to the gardens. Nurse Greene says that the flowers always cheer you up.”
“She said that?”
“She certainly did.”
“But it’s noisy outside. Those men are always hammering and drilling.”
“We won’t walk toward the new wing. We’ll go in the opposite direction, and walk around back. We can get to the gardens either way.”
Lorna wiped away her tears. “All right, then. We can go to the gardens. But Nurse Greene always pushes me. I’m too tired to walk all that way.”
“Of course you are. Wait right here.”
The nurse vanished, returning a few minutes later with a wheelchair.
“Here we go,” she said cheerfully. “Shall I help you?”
“No. I can get up myself.” To demonstrate that she still had some measure of control over her body, Lorna rose and made her way over to the wheelchair. She gripped the arms and sat down.
“Excellent. Let’s take our walk.”
The gardens were lovely. Nurse Greene had been right. There were pink flowers, and purple flowers, and some pretty yellow flowers, too. She knew what those were called. She just couldn’t remember. But she’d had them in a line on her front lawn. They’d grown there a while ago. She wasn’t sure how long.
Nurse Amato continued to chat as they walked. Lorna only half heard what she was saying. She was watching the sun rise, wondering if her baby was seeing the same thing. Did it rise the same way everywhere? Or did it look different from different places?
A shimmering reflection caught her eye, and she snapped back to the present.
“What’s that?” she asked in a high, thin voice. She already knew. She could sense it even before she saw it.
“It’s the lake,” Nurse Amato said cheerfully. “The water is calm and beautiful at sunrise. I thought you’d like to see it.”
“No!” Lorna’s heart began pounding. Sweat broke out on her body and trickled down. Scrambling wildly, she jumped out of the wheelchair, almost toppling to the ground in her haste to get away. She gripped the arm of the wheelchair to steady herself and then stumbled off toward the building.
“Lorna!” Nurse Amato rushed over and gripped her firmly around the shoulders. “Wait! You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Let me go!” Lorna shook the nurse off violently, lurching forward a few steps before falling to her knees. “Let me go!” she sobbed again, trying to crawl away.
There was the sound of running footsteps, and then the welcome voice of Nurse Greene.
“What’s happening here?” She knelt down and put gentle hands on Lorna’s shoulders. “Shh, it’s all right. Everything is all right.” She looked up at Nurse Amato. “Why did you take her here?”
The other nurse was clearly baffled. “I—I don’t understand,” she stammered. “I thought she’d enjoy the view.”
“Next time, read the file more carefully before you take charge of a patient you’re unfamiliar with.” Nurse Greene sounded very upset. “This patient is never, under any circumstances, to be brought to the lake. That is listed clearly at the top of her file.”
“I’m sorry,” the other nurse said. She looked like she wanted to say more, but didn’t. And Nurse Greene didn’t wait around to further discuss the issue. She just turned the wheelchair around and helped Lorna into it. “Let’s head back,” she said in a soft, calming voice, starting to push the wheelchair toward the facility. “I’ll make you a nice cup of chamomile tea and you can drink it in the day room sitting near the big bay window you like so much. The flowers are in bloom. You’ll love all the colors. Before you know it, breakfast will be served. I think I saw some croissants being delivered.”
“Those are my favorite,” Lorna said.
“I know. Mine, too.”
Lorna was already starting to feel better. The water was behind her. It got farther away with each step. And that other nurse wasn’t with them. Lorna didn’t like her. She didn’t know the things she should.
Her heart rate slowly returned to normal, and the sweating stopped. Most of all, the overwhelming sense of panic, the loss of control, was dissipating.
It would be all right now.
Soon, she’d be sipping tea and eating a croissant. Since she was early, she might be one of the lucky patients who got one with chocolate inside. She really liked chocolate. It always tasted sweet. And it made her happy.
She hadn’t been happy before.
But she could no longer remember why.
Denise Amato waited until the two women were out of viewing range. Then she made her way across the opposite s
ection of grounds, stopping at a trailer labeled Bennato Construction. She pulled open the door and stepped inside.
“It’s done,” she said.
“And?” Bill Parsons turned, his eyebrows arched in question.
“And the poor woman nearly had a coronary. If that’s what Tony was looking for, he got it.”
A nod. “That’s what Tony was looking for. That means his information was good. And it’ll point the Feds, the cops and that nutcase Navy SEAL in a different direction. Thanks, Denise. I owe you one.”
Casey hadn’t slept well.
Long after Hutch was out cold, his breathing deep and even, she’d been tossing and turning, trying to figure out what was bugging her. It wasn’t Hutch. If anything, tonight had been an important turning point in their relationship. They’d set some boundaries, and acknowledged the depth of their involvement.
No, it was that damned note she’d been left, and its all-too-elusive meaning.
She got out of bed just after dawn, shrugged into her robe and walked across the hall to her little kitchenette, where she brewed a pot of coffee. Hutch found her there a half hour later, sitting at the counter, hunched over her cup.
“Hey, the bed was cold,” he commented, tipping up her chin and kissing her lightly on the mouth. “I’ve obviously lost my touch if you’re running away at dawn.”
Casey gave him a wan smile. “You haven’t lost anything. My body aches in places I never knew I had.”
“But the case is eating at you.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Well, I can give you more information, but it’s not going to cheer you up. I just got a call from Quantico. The lab finished their results in record time. Unfortunately, those results add up to a big goose egg. Zip. Nothing.”
“No fingerprints at all?”
“Oh, yeah, there were fingerprints, but they were smudged. Nothing the lab could match to an entry in CODIS. So we have no way of knowing if the DNA was that of a previous offender.”