The Silence That Speaks (Forensic Instincts 4)

“He wants to examine me next week. Then he’ll make a decision.” Madeline glanced around the group. Her gaze lingered on Marc for a second, and Casey remembered that—not counting the dedication ceremony, among throngs of people— they hadn’t seen each other since the day she’d walked into the brownstone.

“I apologize,” Madeline said with a rueful smile. “Good morning to you all. Pay no attention to me. I’m just cranky from being idle.”

“We’re workaholics ourselves,” Ryan replied. “No apologies necessary.”

Madeline’s expression grew quizzical. “Patrick said yo

u wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes.” Casey leaned forward. “I have to meet with Conrad—alone—and I need your help.” She went on to explain her reasoning, during which time Madeline nodded.

“I’m on the same page as you,” she replied. “And I agree that Conrad would never refuse you. Let me know once you’ve reached him, then I’ll call Crest Haven myself and set the wheels in motion. Between the two of us, we’ll get you in.”

“Great. Give me an hour. I’ll be getting back to you.”

Casey closed FaceTime, and turned to the group. “Questions?”

“Nope. Actions.” Marc rose. “I’ll feed Hero and get things together for our trip up to Danbury.” It never occurred to him that Casey wouldn’t make the trip happen. He unhooked Hero’s leash and snapped his fingers. “C’mon, boy. Chow time.”

“I’m off, too.” Ryan jumped up. “The Lexingtons can say goodbye to their private chitchats and visits. And Emma can say hello to Hacking 101.”

The meeting room emptied out except for Casey and Claire.

Claire’s soft blue eyes searched Casey’s face, and she waited, interlacing her fingers on the desk. “I’m ready.”

Casey explained the idea she’d had last night.

“None of us, including you, trust Dr. Gilding,” she concluded. “But we’re not sure why. You’re the team member with the necessary skills to get a solid handle on her. And I know you. One-on-one is the best method with the least distractions. Do you think you can pull it off?”

“I’ll make it my business to,” Claire replied. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “I just need to prepare myself. You know what a miserable liar I am. Also how hard it is for me to minimize the importance of my gift. But I’ll find the ability to do both. I only hope it’s enough to convince Dr. Gilding to meet with me. She’s big on announcing how crushing her schedule is.”

Casey smiled. “But you represent such a challenge. How can she resist? Pitch it that way. Believe me, it’ll work.”

“I’ll head upstairs to my yoga room.” Claire slid back her chair and rose. “If anything can infuse me with the necessary energy, yoga can.”

“Let me know once you’ve made the appointment.”

“I will.”

Claire shut the door behind her, and headed straight for the stairs and up to the small room on the third floor that Casey had helped her set up as her personal space/yoga quarters.

It was pretty ironic actually, Casey thought as she stared at the closed door. She owned the brownstone outright, thanks to an inheritance from her grandfather, and it was an ideal building for the FI team’s needs. Every single room on three of the four floors was used for some designated purpose.

Then there was the fourth floor—Casey’s apartment, laid out specifically for her. Those were the rooms that got the least use of all. She passed out on the conference room sofa as often as she slept in her bed, and she lived on takeout, almost never making a meal in her kitchen. On the plus side, Hero was a big fan of her bed, and Casey was a big fan of her shower. Otherwise, with the exception of when Hutch was visiting, the apartment was a convenience rather than a home. Yet the brownstone, in its entirety, still felt like home.

It was an interesting reality, Casey thought as she picked up her iPhone. She, like all the other FI members, lived a very different life than the rest of the world. And she wouldn’t change it for anything.

She took out the slip of paper Conrad had given her, and punched in his direct room number.

15

AN HOUR AND a half later, Marc and Casey were on the road, driving up to Danbury.

“I’m having lunch with Janet Moss tomorrow,” Casey said, settling into the passenger seat of their van. She was exhausted, and relieved as hell that Marc had offered to drive.

“I never doubted it.” Marc swung into the stream of traffic, and began snaking his way through Manhattan toward the West Side Highway. “Do you want to brainstorm while we drive? We can cover our strategy with Conrad and yours with Janet.”

“Good idea. But let’s grab a sandwich and a cup of coffee first. I’m starving.”