The Murder That Never Was (Forensic Instincts 5)

Four hands went up.

“I’ll get the plastic plates and cups,” Casey said, heading for the kitchen. “We’ll have great friends, great food, and mediocre place settings. Sounds like the perfect compromise to me.”

The buzzer sounded again.

“We’re very popular tonight,” Hutch said, walking over and pressing the intercom. “Who else is coming to our rescue?” he teased.

“We are.” It was Claire’s voice at the other end, followed by Ryan calling out, “It depends on why you need rescuing. Should we go away?”

Hutch began to laugh. “No, Mr. One-Track-Mind. Come on up. Marc and Maddy are here.”

“So are we.” This time it was Patrick’s voice coming through the intercom. “And Adele cooked all day, so we’ll be stocking your fridge.”

“I’m not going away no matter what you’re doing,” Emma chimed in. “I brought flowers and homemade banana bread.”

Hutch blinked, although he was clearly touched. “Come on up and join the party,” he sai

d.

The entire team—plus Patrick’s charming wife, Adele, trudged in, carrying everything a newly moved-in person could want. Ryan even brought a leashed-up Hero, together with toys to keep him busy.

Hero had spent many a night in this apartment with Marc, so, the instant he was unleashed, he found his favorite spot near the kitchen and plunked down.

“Hero might not be working, but we are.” Adele walked over and gave Hutch a peck on the cheek. “Welcome. I made all your favorite meals, as per Casey’s list.”

Hutch shot Casey a quick look. So this was why she’d put off their own private welcome. She knew they’d be having visitors.

Casey smiled at him from the kitchen and then went back to work. She arranged the mouthwatering pastries on a big plastic serving plate and gathered up a small box of plastic plates, utensils, and glasses. Stopping only to scoop up some napkins, she returned to the living room, where everyone had congregated—all except Adele, who passed Casey on her way to the kitchen as she hurried to stock Hutch’s fridge.

“Don’t be long, Adele,” Casey called back over her shoulder. “Or I’m afraid the crowd will have devoured your share of the pastries.”

“Not to worry,” Patrick assured his wife. “I won’t let them.”

With that, everybody got up, taking things from Casey and setting up the coffee table for a celebratory dessert. Emma went into the kitchen to assist Adele so that she could more swiftly join in the fun. And, in no time at all, everyone was toasting Hutch’s arrival, ooh-ing and aah-ing as they dived into the Villabate pastries.

They were well sated, and busily unpacking boxes, when Marc’s cell phone rang.

He glanced at it. “Work,” he said, setting down the pots and pans he was holding, and striding off to the smaller bedroom for some privacy.

Ryan, who’d been in the living room programing Hutch’s TV, walked out and shot Casey a quizzical look. “Anything I should know?”

“I’m not sure.” Casey, too, had left her unpacking to exit the master bedroom and gaze into the second bedroom, watching Marc. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to interpret Marc’s body language. Marc wasn’t an easy read. But whatever he was discussing, it was intense.

A few minutes later, he hung up, stepping out into the hallway—where, by this time, the entire FI team was waiting for him—and giving Casey a triumphant look. A look she knew and appreciated only too well.

“That was my buddy at Midtown North,” he told her. “You can call Mr. Worster and tell him he’s safe. Turns out that Ryan—and Yoda—were right. Number one suspect, Lee Jarvis, is our man. The cops followed up on the anonymous tip they received. They entered the scumbag’s apartment and confiscated his computer. Sure enough, they found all the threatening emails that Jarvis sent to Worster, which he sent through a proxy server.”

“Which is why I couldn’t track his IP address,” Ryan said with a nod.

“Exactly. And talk about a disgruntled investor. Jarvis thinks Worster screwed him out of millions, so he planned on tormenting and then killing him. Nice.”

“So Jarvis has been arrested? He’s at Midtown North now?” Casey asked.

“Being booked as we speak.” Marc nodded. “The detectives are calling Worster now, but I’m sure he’d rather hear from us.”

“Agreed.” Casey rose. “Excuse me for a minute.”