The Line Between Here and Gone (Forensic Instincts 2)

Lisa sighed. “I’m sorry. This just came at me out of left field. What happens if I’m a match? Do I have to donate an organ or something?”

“Of course not. I’d never ask that of you. It’s simply a type of blood transfusion. Nothing more. But we’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. I can’t force you to do this. But I know how bighearted you are. So I wanted to ask.”

“It’s no problem. I can run over to Evanston Hospital after my last class today. But, Dad, please, no media. No announcements. Just let me do this quietly. If you want to put out a press release about your kids getting tested, just wait until finals are over. Tom’s bound to feel the same way. We’ve got enough on our plates without local reporters banging on our dorm room doors, wanting to interview us about what altruistic kids we are.”

“That goes without saying.” Cliff rubbed his temples. He felt like the world’s shittiest father. “We don’t even have to announce this, if you’d prefer. The same goes for Tom. I’m sure I’ll be hearing from him in a couple of hours. And I’ll tell him exactly what I’m telling you. What you’re doing is a wonderful, selfless thing. I’m sure Amanda will be incredibly grateful. How you want it handled—publicly, privately—that’s your call.”

“Okay.” That put Lisa’s mind at rest. “I’ll take care of it later today. And I’ll call you afterward.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re a great kid.”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” she quipped. “Talk to you later.”

Cliff disconnected the call. By the time he’d finished his run, taken a shower and gotten ready for his day, Tom would be on the phone. He’d go through the whole charade again. It didn’t make him feel any better that he wasn’t lying about wanting to help Amanda Gleason’s critically ill baby. His reasons were still steeped in self-protection. He’d sworn never to be one of those dirty politicians. Yet here he was, being just that.

The whole situation sucked.

Warren Mercer might be a cold SOB.

But Lyle Fenton was a scumbag.

* * *

Patrick walked over as soon as he saw Casey in the PICU waiting room.

“How is she?” Casey asked.

“Not great. Shaky,” Patrick replied. “I think the phone call was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She was holding on by a thread to begin with. I don’t think there’s been any improvement in Justin’s condition. He’s still on the ventilator. And when she got that phone call… Well, you can imagine.”

“She knows you’re here, though, right?”

“Definitely. She’s come out three times in the past few hours to check. She’s terrified that someone’s going to get by me and hurt her son. We’ve talked. I think I finally established a rapport with her. I’m not Marc, but I’m kind of a father figure to her, which seems to soothe her. That’s why I’m not letting Carl relieve me for the next shift. She’s just gotten used to me. I don’t want to throw any more changes her way.”

Casey patted his arm. “You’re a good guy.”

“That’s true. Maybe you should be paying me more,” Patrick replied good-naturedly. “Do you want to see her now?”

Nodding, Casey explained what she was hoping to have Amanda agree to regarding Hutch.

“Excellent idea.” Patrick glanced over his shoulder as Amanda appeared outside Justin’s room. “Here she comes. You can discuss it with her. I doubt she’ll turn you down. The poor woman is desperate.”

As he spoke, Amanda caught sight of Casey. She stripped off her sterile attire and walked over. “Hi.” It was a tentative greeting, accompanied by a pleading look. “Do you have any news?”

“Not from the phone calls, no. But half the Hamptons population is getting tested, thanks to Congressman Mercer.”

A flicker of hope lit Amanda’s eyes. “What he did was very kind. I know it was a favor to my uncle, but he did it nonetheless. And his gesture inspired so many others to offer their help. I’m so grateful. I called the congressman’s office late yesterday afternoon and asked them to give him my thanks. It would be a miracle if another donor came through. The chances of finding Paul…”

“Are still very strong,” Casey finished for her. “We’re following up on an unexpected occurrence, one that’s too coincidental to ignore. John Morano—the man who took over Paul’s hotel project—also took over Paul’s office. I don’t know if you ever saw it, but it’s a shack at the marina on Shinnecock Bay.”

“I was there once. Did Paul leave something behind that just now turned up?”

“It’s not that. The place burned to the ground last night. And the police don’t think it was an accident.”

“Someone tried to kill this John Morano?” Amanda gasped.

Casey shook her head. “He wasn’t there. It was a warning of some kind. Which leads us to believe that whatever trouble Paul was in somehow related to that project. If we figure out what the connection is, we’ll be one step closer to finding Paul.”

The hope faded from Amanda’s eyes, tears once aga