in his comfy bed just beside Casey’s, lifted his head and looked quizzically up at his mistress.
“No problems, boy,” she assured him. “Go back to sleep.”
The soothing tone of Casey’s voice was enough to make the bloodhound put his head down and doze off again.
Casey glanced at her iPad. She’d just downloaded a new book, but she didn’t feel like reading. She looked at the pile of pages fanned out across her bed. The case was bugging her; however, her brain was on overload and she wouldn’t be effective if she tried to review the dozens of minute details that she and her team had brought to the table for discussion.
She reached for her cell phone. Yeah, it was the middle of the night, but Hutch’s hours were crazy.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey, you. I can’t sleep, either. Good that you called. Even better if it’s for phone sex.”
Casey began to laugh. “I miss you, too. We’ve got to carve out a few days—even if we meet in a motel halfway between Manhattan and D.C.”
“I must be desperate. Even that sounds good to me. It’s been six weeks.”
“I know. I’ve been counting, too.”
Hutch—or Supervisory Special Agent Kyle Hutchinson—was with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico. He was also Casey’s one-and-only. The problem was that each of them had insane jobs and schedules, not to mention the fact that they were separated by two hundred and seventy miles and four and a half hours—all of which meant that it took major planning to see each other. Even so, they made it work. Love was a strong motivator.
“You’ve got something on your mind,” Hutch stated flatly. “I can hear it in your voice. So let’s talk first. Then we’ll get to the phone sex. It’ll give me the incentive I need to listen.”
That was a joke coming from Hutch. He was one of the best listeners Casey had ever met. His job required it.
“You read me too well,” she said with a sigh. “I’d really prefer the phone sex.”
“All in good time. What’s going on in the Big Apple?”
“First tell me about you. Anything you’re working on that you can discuss?”
“Nope. But I’m on a plane for Munich tomorrow. I’ll be gone for a few days. That takes care of me. On to you. What’s the case you’re working on that’s creating the tension in your voice?”
“A client dealing with attempted murder and a long list of suspects.” Casey stopped there. That was all she could say. As always, she was dying to ask Hutch’s opinion, but she valued the confidentiality she promised her clients.
“If you need to run theoretical scenarios by me, I’m here.”
“I know. I guess I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.” Casey paused. “Actually, I didn’t promise confidentiality on a personal angle that I picked up on by myself. Not that it was a reach. But it might be a complication. And it’s definitely a first.”
“Go on.”
Casey knew that anything she ran by Hutch would stay with him.
“Our client was once—not to sound corny—the love of Marc’s life. He nearly lost it when she walked into the room.”
“That
is
a first. I never knew Marc was that close to anyone.”
“It was years ago, during his navy SEAL days. But his reaction told me he never got over her.”
“Is he able to be objective?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. He’s adamant that he can and will be. But that’s his brain talking.”
“Yup. His heart and his dick are another story.”
Blunt and direct. That was Hutch.
“Exactly.” Casey rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a lack-of-sleep headache.
“Keep an eye on him. I should know. I’ve had my ass reamed out more than once for pushing the boundaries of my job because of my feelings for you. It’s a rough role to balance. And it usually sucks.”
“I know. And I am.”
Casey’s call-waiting buzz sounded. She glanced at her iPhone screen. Madeline. At 2:15 in the morning? That couldn’t be
“No problems, boy,” she assured him. “Go back to sleep.”
The soothing tone of Casey’s voice was enough to make the bloodhound put his head down and doze off again.
Casey glanced at her iPad. She’d just downloaded a new book, but she didn’t feel like reading. She looked at the pile of pages fanned out across her bed. The case was bugging her; however, her brain was on overload and she wouldn’t be effective if she tried to review the dozens of minute details that she and her team had brought to the table for discussion.
She reached for her cell phone. Yeah, it was the middle of the night, but Hutch’s hours were crazy.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey, you. I can’t sleep, either. Good that you called. Even better if it’s for phone sex.”
Casey began to laugh. “I miss you, too. We’ve got to carve out a few days—even if we meet in a motel halfway between Manhattan and D.C.”
“I must be desperate. Even that sounds good to me. It’s been six weeks.”
“I know. I’ve been counting, too.”
Hutch—or Supervisory Special Agent Kyle Hutchinson—was with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico. He was also Casey’s one-and-only. The problem was that each of them had insane jobs and schedules, not to mention the fact that they were separated by two hundred and seventy miles and four and a half hours—all of which meant that it took major planning to see each other. Even so, they made it work. Love was a strong motivator.
“You’ve got something on your mind,” Hutch stated flatly. “I can hear it in your voice. So let’s talk first. Then we’ll get to the phone sex. It’ll give me the incentive I need to listen.”
That was a joke coming from Hutch. He was one of the best listeners Casey had ever met. His job required it.
“You read me too well,” she said with a sigh. “I’d really prefer the phone sex.”
“All in good time. What’s going on in the Big Apple?”
“First tell me about you. Anything you’re working on that you can discuss?”
“Nope. But I’m on a plane for Munich tomorrow. I’ll be gone for a few days. That takes care of me. On to you. What’s the case you’re working on that’s creating the tension in your voice?”
“A client dealing with attempted murder and a long list of suspects.” Casey stopped there. That was all she could say. As always, she was dying to ask Hutch’s opinion, but she valued the confidentiality she promised her clients.
“If you need to run theoretical scenarios by me, I’m here.”
“I know. I guess I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.” Casey paused. “Actually, I didn’t promise confidentiality on a personal angle that I picked up on by myself. Not that it was a reach. But it might be a complication. And it’s definitely a first.”
“Go on.”
Casey knew that anything she ran by Hutch would stay with him.
“Our client was once—not to sound corny—the love of Marc’s life. He nearly lost it when she walked into the room.”
“That
is
a first. I never knew Marc was that close to anyone.”
“It was years ago, during his navy SEAL days. But his reaction told me he never got over her.”
“Is he able to be objective?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. He’s adamant that he can and will be. But that’s his brain talking.”
“Yup. His heart and his dick are another story.”
Blunt and direct. That was Hutch.
“Exactly.” Casey rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a lack-of-sleep headache.
“Keep an eye on him. I should know. I’ve had my ass reamed out more than once for pushing the boundaries of my job because of my feelings for you. It’s a rough role to balance. And it usually sucks.”
“I know. And I am.”
Casey’s call-waiting buzz sounded. She glanced at her iPhone screen. Madeline. At 2:15 in the morning? That couldn’t be
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