Casey and the team were all waiting in the downstairs conference room when Ryan brought Fiona in. As always when a client was distraught, Casey chose this room, rather than the more formal upstairs one, to conduct business. It was far more casual and homey, with its swivel tub chairs and cushy love seats.
Fiona stood in the doorway like a wide-eyed fawn, reeling from the events of the evening and trying to retain an element of composure when meeting Ryan’s renowned colleagues.
Claire made it easier, going straight to Fiona and giving her a hug. “I’m so sorry you’re going through yet another trauma,” she said. “But we’ll help make it right. That’s what we do.”
Ryan gave Claire a subtle nod of thanks and eased Fiona into the room, introducing the team members she had yet to meet.
Casey was already on her feet, and she walked up to Fiona and shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, even under these circumstances. You look just like Ryan. I hope you don’t behave like him.”
That had the desired effect, and Fiona couldn’t help but laugh. “I hope not, too. I might be the baby of the family, but he’s the brat.”
“Tell us about it,” Marc muttered, but he was smiling as he shook Fiona’s hand. “We put up with him every day.”
Fiona’s gaze shifted to the official-looking bloodhound, who was watching her intently from his prone position on the floor. His head was up as he assessed the stranger in their midst.
“Hi, Hero,” she said, squatting to stroke his head. “You must keep my brother humble by being so much better-looking.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Fee. Comparing me to a bloodhound? That’s a real boost to my ego.”
“Your ego doesn’t need boosting,” she replied.
“You can say that again,” Claire echoed.
“But you’re an amazing brother and I’m so grateful to you… to you all.” Fiona made a wide sweep of her arm. Her gaze stopped on Patrick.
“Hello and welcome, Fiona,” he said with a warm smile.
“Hi,” she replied. “I hear I already have something to thank you for. I appreciate you putting a security detail on me. I never would have thought I’d need it. Now I’m changing my mind in a hurry.” She gave Patrick a curious look. “Whoever you chose, I’d like to meet him.”
“And you will,” Patrick assured her. “His name is John Nickels, and he’s one of the best and sharpest guys I have on my team. He’s parked outside the building. After we finish up here, I’ll have him come in. You’re in the best of hands. John’s about six foot three and is built like a linebacker. He worked homicide for the NYPD for twenty-five years. He’s also a great guy. You’ll like him—as long as you follow his instructions.”
“I get it.” Fiona nodded. “Believe me, I’ll do whatever he says. I’m not going to play with fire when it comes to my life.”
“Then you and John will work just fine together.”
Emma had stayed quiet—at least until now. “You’re gorgeous,” she blurted out, having stared at Fiona the whole time the rest of the team members were greeting her. “And so’s your jewelry. I looked at your website. If I could afford it, I’d buy it all.”
Fiona’s whole body relaxed. That kind of bluntness and enthusiasm felt really good about now, especially since it referred to anything other than murder and impending danger.
“That’s ironic,” she replied. “When I was growing up, I always wished I was blonde and petite. Like Alice in Wonderland. You look just like her, so right back at you about the gorgeous part. As for my jewelry, you just pick a piece and it’s yours.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Most of your stuff costs thousands of dollars.” She paused. “Although there’s a thin bangle bracelet with three tiny sapphires that I love and it’s a lot less. But it’s still a few hundred dollars. Are you sure?”
“Positive. Consider it yours. That one would look beautiful on you.”
“Oh my God! Thank you soooo much.” Emma looked as if she’d won the lottery.
Casey shot her a that’s-enough look, although she was visibly biting back laughter. Anything that diverted Fiona or calmed her down right now would be welcome. And Emma’s bouncy enthusiasm always had that effect on people—unless, of course, she was on an assignment or picking someone’s pocket. Then, she was all business and her targets didn’t like her much.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Casey indicated one of the caramel-colored tub chairs. “We ordered in some sandwiches, because I’m sure you haven’t eaten a thing.” She waved away Fiona’s protest. “This isn’t only about making sure you’re fed. We need you clearheaded and alert, since you’re about to go through yet another battery of questions. Only ours are more specific since we have more facts than the police do.”
“Plus, I haven’t eaten yet, either,” Ryan announced. “I’m starved.”
“Of course you are.” Casey gestured toward the door. “So why don’t you go upstairs to the kitchen and bring down the platter. We’ve got everything else we need in here—a coffee station that brews everything, a fridge filled with water, juice, soda, you name it, and a wine cooler. So there’s something for everyone.”
Ryan paused in the doorway. “I’ll go get the food. But I’m going to wolf down a sandwich in the kitchen and then take a few more to my lair after I drop off the platter. I want to start analyzing Fee’s computer immediately. If the guys who broke into her townhouse did manage to get into it and pull any data, I want to get a head start.”
“Good idea.” Casey nodded. “Besides, you’re totally up to date on everything Fiona’s about to tell us. So your talents are best served elsewhere. Just don’t forget to bring the platter of food down here—without taking half of it for yourself—before you lose yourself in your techno world and your poor sister starves.”
“No worries.” Ryan glanced quickly at Fiona. “You okay?”
“Fine. I’m with your awesome teammates.” She waved him away affectionately. “Go stuff your face.”
“On my way.” Ryan disappeared toward the staircase.
Once Fiona was settled, nibbling on a turkey sandwich, and more relaxed, Casey gave her a quick update before bringing up the immediate things FI needed to know.
“Ryan’s conducting a full background check on Rose Flaherty, just to see if there was anyone in her life, past or present, who had motive to kill her. So far, he’s found no red flags. We’ve also divided up Rose’s contact list and are running through it to see if there are any possible suspects on it. Again, so far nothing’s jumped out at us.”
Fiona’s brows rose. “You really got a head start on this. I’m so grateful.” She fidgeted a bit. “We haven’t talked about payment. Ryan’s sister or not, I’m a client and I want to compensate you. How does this work? Do I sign a contract? Write you a check up front?”
Casey gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’ll work something out. Right now, we need to figure out who’s targeting you.”
“But—”
“I’ll take it out of Ryan’s salary,” Casey said dryly. “And you can sign the standard contract after this meeting. Now let’s get down to business. The night of Rose Flaherty’s murder, Detective Alvarez interviewed you at length. What did you tell her about the research Rose was doing for you? Think hard before you answer. Fortunately, the print you gave Rose wasn’t at the scene. But I want to be sure there was no mention of the tapestries.”
“There wasn’t,” Fiona said, shaking her head. “Detective Alvarez asked me what the nature of my business with Rose was and I said that she was doing some research for me that related to my new jewelry line, things like Celtic symbols and images. I never said anything about the tapestries. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I was in shock. Maybe because I inherently knew it was something I wasn’t ready to share. But the only people who know the full extent of my research are all of you and, of course, Rose.”
“Okay, good. Let’s keep it that way. We obviously know there’s a link between the tapestries and whoever killed Rose and trashed your place. The criminals who did these things want something, and I’d be willing to bet that Rose had a good idea what that something might be.”
“So we retrace Rose’s steps,” Marc said. “We now have the text pages and the Post-it note she sent you. Time to figure out who she consulted with to expand her knowledge base. Can her assistant help you with that?”
Fiona nodded. “I was planning to go to her for that very thing. I don’t have to give her a reason that will creep her out or reveal more than I want to. I’ll just tell her part of the truth—that I still need help with the Celtic symbols Rose was researching for me for my new line, and ask who Rose’s go-to people were for that sort of thing. Glenna will probably know the answer off the top of her head. If not, she’ll check out the contact list and give me a bunch of possibilities.”
“Good.”
“I need the tapestries themselves,” Claire told Fiona. “I don’t know how you’re going to convince your mother that you need to borrow them, but we’re going to have to come up with something. Because I know I can pick up energy from them. And maybe some of that energy will give us avenues to pursue.” A frown. “I was in my yoga room all night. Obviously, the break-in at your house broke through all my other thoughts. But I went in to focus on that center panel. Something about it is really troubling me. We’re missing something vital. I just don’t know what.”
“I do,” Fiona replied. She filled Claire in on the tiny fist and trophy or goblet images woven into the fabric, as well as Rose’s cryptic phrase about them on her Post-it message.
“I never noticed either of those images.” Claire was still frowning. “But that’s all the more reason I need to feel the tapestries in my hands, hold them up close.”
Fiona sighed, leaning back against the chair and taking a sip of tea. “I’ve been wrestling with that already. As it was, I needed those tapestries to create the rest of my new line. And now, with everything that’s happened and what you’re saying, getting our hands on the panels has become urgent.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’ve already got to tell my parents about the break-in. They’re going to be way too upset to focus on anything else. And the gathering for Rose is tomorrow night. Everyone will be asking questions. I’m not sure how to field them.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Casey replied, thoughtfully drumming her fingernails on her coffee mug. “How would your parents feel about a few more guests? Claire and I would be the best choices. Claire already met your mom and you introduced her as your friend, so that’s not a problem. You could easily have met her—and me—at Forensic Instincts. After all, that’s where your brother works. It’s not a reach that we’d be there to offer you emotional support. Marc and Patrick will stay behind and start tracking Rose’s research. And I’m sure Ryan will be locked up in his lair. He’s on a tear right now, and besides, a social gathering honoring a murder victim who belonged to your church doesn’t sound like his speed.”
“Definitely not.” Fiona had to smile. “As for you and Claire coming, my mom would be relieved—especially after I call her tonight and tell her about what happened. I know it’s late, but I can’t risk her finding out from the police. She needs to hear from me and know that I’m really okay.” A quick glance at the wall clock. “Would you mind if I took a minute and made that call now? I won’t mention the tapestries—it’s the wrong time—but I have to tell them the police believe the break-in is tied to Rose’s murder. Detective Alvarez is going to make that crystal clear anyway. Besides, they’re not stupid. They’re going to come to that conclusion even without the detectives telling them.”
“Of course, go ahead.” Casey rose. “I’ll take you up to the den that’s across from Claire’s yoga room. It’s great for relaxing or crashing for the night. You can have privacy to make your call. I’m also thinking you might want to use the sofa bed and stay over. I know Ryan said he’d take you to his place, but I’m pretty sure that tonight, ‘his place’ is going to mean his lair. This way, he’ll be with you. So will I, because my apartment is on the fourth floor. And John will be camped out at his post. So you can sleep easy. Is that okay with you?”
Fiona stood up and gave Casey an impulsive hug. “I don’t know how to thank you. Ryan’s right—you guys are amazing.”
Casey returned her hug. “Let’s save the accolades for after we solve this case.”
***
Niall was perched at the edge of his sofa when his private cell phone rang.
“Talk to me.”
“Yes,” Donald replied tersely. “We’ll take a walk.”
Niall sucked in his breath. Yes meant the job was done, but we’ll take a walk meant there were only preliminary things to report. Otherwise, Donald would have said, We’ll be flying out tonight.
Still, he was out the door five minutes later, heading for Kelly’s and for an update.
***
Kelly’s was still hopping when Niall walked in, wearing his customary canvas jacket with the collar turned up and his Yankees cap. Donald signaled him into the back room and finished serving a customer before joining him.
He shut the door firmly behind him.
“The cops swarmed the place,” he began without preamble. “Not just the local precinct and the Crime Scene Unit, which we were expecting. The detectives handling the murder case charged in at the same time as the patrol car. Plus, of course, the girl’s brother, who showed up five minutes later.”
“Yeah, the Forensic Instincts tech genius.” Niall scowled. “We’re fighting the clock with him in the mix. We know he’s good. We just don’t know if he’s as good as advertised.”
“We do know the computer kid I hired is supposedly a whiz kid,” Donald replied. “So I’m pretty confident that he’ll turn something up.”
“What’d he take from the house?”
“Nothing, as you ordered. He copied the hard drive. Kid kept laughing that the stupid girl had a Post-it with her password stuck to the back of one of the papers on the desk. The computer itself looks like it’s never been touched. He said something about needing to crack some password before he can get at the photos you want. He babbled a bunch of other stuff in computer-ese. I have no idea what it meant, but bottom line: it’s going to take some time before he has anything to report.”
“Shit. How much time?”
“He doesn’t know. It depends on how lucky he gets and how fast the spyware he installed pays off. We’re going to have to sit tight.”
Niall’s jaw set in impatient frustration, and he rubbed his scarred palm. “What’d the other two kids find?”
“Only the jewelry. They followed your orders: take photos, then leave it all where they dumped it. They texted the photos to me after I called you. I’ll forward them to you now.”
Niall nodded, ignoring the series of bings that told him the texts had arrived. He’d get to them later. What he really wanted wasn’t the jewelry, it was the inspiration for it. “Nothing else?”
Donald shook his head. “No tapestries.” He looked Niall squarely in the eye. “Are you ever planning on telling me what these tapestries mean and what they’ll lead you to that you’re so determined to find?”
Niall fell silent. He’d never kept anything from Donald before. This man was responsible for saving his life and giving him a new one. “Once I have them in my hands, I’ll tell you. Just you. Not another soul.”
“Then not another soul will ever know.”
Niall turned his attention to the other loose end. “Anything on the investigation?”
“The cops have gotten nowhere yet. They’re questioning everyone on their list, but they’ve turned up nothing on the details of what the old woman was looking into. Given what you’ve told me, they’re not going to—not unless the girl says something.”
“She won’t. Not with Forensic Instincts in her corner. Anything she has to confide, she’ll confide in them.” Niall scowled. “Let’s not make the mistake of underestimating them. They’ll be more of a problem than law enforcement.”
***
Ryan was hunched over Fiona’s laptop, periodically munching on a roast beef sandwich. At this point, it was purely for sustenance, not for savoring. His concentration was focused solely on his work. He punched in Fiona’s usual password—feefihohum—the nickname Ryan had given her as a little girl when she said that the giant in Jack and the Beanstalk was talking about her. But no time for childhood memories—it was time to see exactly what had gone on with Fee’s computer.
When he’d originally configured this laptop, he’d formatted the large SSD using Mac OS X extended. This enabled journaling on the hard drive. All read/write operations were logged for review at a later time. Ryan’s monitoring software regularly connected to the FI servers and uploaded the journal files for analysis, should that be necessary.
Now it was necessary.
He took another bite of his sandwich and prepared himself for a long, long night.