The only problem is now that lock has been busted wide open. He’s been set free. Now that I know he’s here in Pittsburgh, I can’t ignore the fact.
I simply can’t forget that the most important figure in my entire life has, for some reason, crossed my path again.
Nine long years since we parted in a downtown Atlanta bar. We’d gone there to celebrate the conviction of Richard Katz. While as witnesses, we had been sequestered until we testified, after we had both taken the stand, Clay sat by my side the remainder of the trial.
I thought it was in solidarity.
Later, I found out that was not the case.
Even today when I embraced him and his return hug was lukewarm at best, I knew deep in my heart Clay regrets this run-in. Too many bad memories for him to overcome, and it’s clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
An ordinary person wouldn’t push the issue. A reasonable one would get the hint. I had nine years ago when he’d walked away from me. But perhaps I had hoped time would have lessened his bitterness.
But I’m no ordinary person. I’m a psychiatrist. It’s in my nature to figure out what makes a person tick. Why they do the things they do, say the things they say, and avoid discussing their hard and painful feelings.
It’s what I’m meant to do, but, more than that, I care too much about Clay to let this continue. I’ve got enough of a mystic heart to believe he’s here for a reason. Perhaps it’s so I can return his conscience to a pure state.
A thought causes me to rise from my chair again. I have to know exactly why Clay is here. He could just be passing through town, which means any opportunities to speak to him could be limited.
I rush as fast as my four-inch heels allow, deciding to risk them on the stairs going upward rather than the slow elevator. I had seen Cage heading that way through my glass office walls after I’d returned to my desk.
When I reach the fourth floor, he’s not in the communal area, so I head straight to his apartment, which is down a hall off the kitchen. Kynan had five apartments built up here for his agents as a job perk on a first-come, first-serve basis. Cage was one of the first to move in.
I rap hard on his door, too impatient to be polite. He quickly opens the door since I was hot on his heels. “What’s up?” he asks, motioning me inside.
I shake my head since I don’t have time for an extended visit. “How do you know Clay? Is he helping on a case of ours or something?”
“He was,” Cage says.
“So he’s leaving Pittsburgh?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Cage replies. Relief floods me. “He’s stationed here as Griff’s new partner. He stepped in to help me with a kidnapping issue with my wife since Griff was out of state.”
My eyes about bug out of my head. “You’re married? And your wife was kidnapped?”
Where in the hell have I been?
Cage chuckles. “It’s a long story, and you don’t appear to have the time to hear it. I’ll fill you in later, but if you’re looking for Clay, he’s probably heading back to his office.”
I try to map out where the FBI building is in my head, and I figure it’s a twenty-minute drive. My gut says the trip is going to be wasted, though. Clay had been too good at putting my attempts to contact him off those first years after we parted ways. I doubt he’d see me, and I can’t just sneak into the FBI building to hunt him down.
I’ll need to catch up with him another way.
“Thanks, Cage,” I say, then pivot away from his door.
“Good luck,” he calls.
Glancing over my shoulder, I shoot him a smile. I’ll need it.
And I’ll need something else as well, and only one person can help me get it.
?
The Research and Development portion of Jameson is housed in a sub-basement level and requires the highest security to get in. Only two people have such access—Bebe Grimshaw and Dozer Burney. Not even our esteemed owner, Kynan McGrath, can get in without one in attendance.
I press a button that buzzes inside the room, and Dozer’s voice comes over the intercom. “What can we do for you, Dr. Ellery?”
He knows it’s me because there’s a camera above the door that lets the two tech geeks check out who has come to visit.
“Is Bebe there? I need to talk to her.”
Dozer’s answer is nothing but the sound of the lock on the door sliding back. I pull it open to enter the weird world of computer science.
Dozer greets me with a wide smile. He’s the smartest man in this building, and Kynan pulled a coup when he stole him right out from under NASA’s nose. Dozer is probably the highest-paid employee here because of his abilities and off-the-charts IQ. Along with Bebe, he helps develop all of our technology as well as an artificial intelligence system that allows our agents to “predict” the outcomes of missions based on different scenario factors. It’s quite impressive.