He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, waiting patiently until everyone was caffeine-fixed and seated. Then he addressed the group.
“I want to set some ground rules, just so we’re clear, not only about this case, but about my overall role here. Yes, I’ve moved to the Big Apple, but I’m not a member of Forensic Instincts. I work for the FBI. That being said, I happen to be in love with Casey. So my loyalties are sometimes divided. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be compromising myself, or you and your commitment to client confidentiality, on a regular basis. That’s precisely why I rented Marc’s apartment rather than moving in here. Your firm and I need our separate space. I’m sure that, at times, we’ll call on each other for help. But I’m trying to keep some sort of line, however blurry, in the sand. I already know where Patrick, and obviously Casey, stands. I hope the rest of you are on board with this.”
“You’ll call on us?” Emma leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Does that mean we’ll be some kind of confidential informants on your cases?”
Hutch’s lips twitched. “You never know.”
“Well, I’m certainly cool with that.”
“No problems here,” Ryan said.
“Not with me, either.” Marc met Hutch’s gaze. “Aidan emailed me a few hours ago and said he’d be calling soon with solid information. Once he does, I’m sure we’ll need your help.”
“And you’ll have it.”
“I’m on board with everything Hutch said,” Claire put in. This time there was strength in her voice, and she was the old Claire again. But, rather than a lost, faraway look in her eyes, there was genuine fear. “I also have some new information of my own.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Last night I sat down with the training medal Marc brought me from Jim Robbins’ apartment. Once again, I got some clear images. They were nightmarish. I saw Jim Robbins poisoned to death. And I saw a veiled image of the killer as he watched him die. Robbins was killed in this man’s home—the manor I told you about last time. The death was prolonged and agonizing.” She shuddered.
“You saw the killer?” Casey was all over that one. “What did he look like? Is he Russian? Did you sense that he owns RusChem?”
“I wish I could answer those questions.” Claire sighed. “The truth is, I just don’t know. He was only a shadowy figure. I couldn’t make out any of his features. All I can tell you is that he’s tall and lean.”
“That’s not Slava,” Emma said at once. “He’s built like a Humvee.”
“True,” Marc concurred. “Anything else?”
“One new thing. This time, when I saw all that green acreage and the surrounding mountains, I got a general location. New England. I know it’s not much.”
“It’s more than we had before,” Casey replied.
“It makes sense.” That idea clicked with Hutch. “There are tons of rural places in New England where someone can stay invisible.” His forehead creased in a frown. “I just wish we could narrow it down further.”
“Hopefully we’ll get some help from Aidan on that.” Casey’s gaze was narrowed on Claire, and she studied the apprehension in her eyes. “There’s obviously more. What is it?”
Claire wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “The killer is feeling threatened. We’re making him feel threatened. He’s going to come after us. And right now…all my instincts are screaming that one of us is in danger of dying.”
A heavy silence greeted Claire’s ominous premonition.
“Shit,” Ryan muttered at last.
Along with that expletive, Marc’s cell phone rang.
“It’s Aidan,” he announced. He punched on the phone. “You have everything now? Good. We’re all here. I’ll put you on speakerphone.”
He pressed the speakerphone button and placed the iPhone in the center of the conference table. “You’re on, Aidan.”
“This one was tricky,” Aidan began. “I got what you needed, but my sources seem to feel that our probing didn’t go unnoticed.”
“So RusChem knows we’re checking into them?”
“Yup. I don’t think they know who’s doing the probing—not yet. But that’s only a matter of time. And given what I’m about to tell you, we’re all going to have to watch our backs.”
“Go on,” Casey said.