Nolan stayed sitting with an effort, trying to present a calm, steady demeanor as Fynn paced the lobby of his building, bouncing from desk to seating to the elevators. At least he showed no sign of a panic attack this time. Nolan’s heart rate had recovered from the adrenaline hit of hearing Fynn over Amelia’s phone, but he wasn’t surprised Fynn was wired. This protection detail had gone from “might still be a threat” to “definite threat.”
He was glad Amelia had been on duty. She was their best driver. But questions bounced in his head almost as urgently as Fynn’s pacing.Time to distract him and get a few answers.“Hey,” he called when one of Fynn’s circuits brought him nearby. “Question. Why were you driving your old car?”
Fynn glanced his way. “I always do on weekends. Joe needs time off.”
“You said you do chores on weekends. Laundry. LEGO.”
“LEGO’s not a chore. And sometimes, I come in to work, if I have an idea.”
He wondered why Fynn hadn’t mentioned the possibility.He’d ask when they didn’t have an audience. Fynn looked flushed and evasive, not meeting his eyes. In a stranger, he’d have wondered if there was some problematic reason for the omission— a secret destination, or even collaboration with the kidnappers— but by now, he was sure Fynn was painfully straightforward. Maybe he simply forgot.
An unmarked car pulled into the parking area and stopped by the front doors in the handicapped spot. The detective, no doubt. He’d met plenty who thought they were too important for ordinary rules.
Nolan stood and went to the door, demanded and checked the man’s ID before ushering him inside.Detective Wilson Barrington. Hillside PD.The man’s uptight posture and superior expression went with the snooty name.Wonder how he made it through his patrol years.Coworkers on the streets usually knocked the high-class stuffing out of a guy, but maybe being elevated to detective gave it back.
Detective Barrington said to the uniformed cops, “One of you can take off now.” The two of them looked at each other, and the guy nearer the door hurried out.
Smart man.
Barrington turned to Nolan. “Now, what’s all this about a possible kidnapping attempt? Why are wesix milesfrom the reported scene of the crime?”
Fynn stiffened, his head coming up and eyes flashing, and Nolan set himself to keep the peace between those two, despite the sparks he saw coming.
Sure enough, Barrington acted like he disbelieved everything Amelia and Fynn said. He made them go through their story several times, and demanded why they hadn’t used their phones to record anything. Before Fynn had to admit to forgetting his, Nolan said, “While steering a car down an embankment and bracing for impact?” He left the “How many hands do you think they have?” part of his comment unvoiced, but hopefully clear in his tone. Fynn flashed Nolan a look he thought was grateful.
Barrington sniffed and went back to his questions.
Nolan eventually asked, “Have you touched base with Detective Gordon in the Lombard PD? She was in charge of the original case after the first event.”
Barrington shrugged. “When I have my data collected, I’ll see what Gordon has to offer.”
That didn’t speak well for interdepartmental cooperation. Not a huge surprise. Nolan really,reallyliked running his own firm without having to play politics.
By the time Barrington had all the info he thought he needed, the uniformed cop had gone and taken photos of tire tracks in the grass of the embankment, and the F-10 had been confirmed as stolen, they’d reached mid-morning. Fynn had quit pacing and shifted from rapid-fire answers and non-sequiturs to sitting limply and answering in monosyllables. Nolan hated seeing him looking so squashed down.
As the door shut behind Barrington’s departing ass, Nolan did a discreet celebratory fist pump. He succeeded in making Fynn laugh.Win.
Turning to Amelia, he told her, “Take Fynn’s car to a garage. Scan thoroughly for bugs—” He waved her off when she began speaking. “I know you did a scan already but recheck, focus on the undercarriage. Odds are, the perps were waiting outside his building. If they knew what route he’d take, they didn’t have to follow close enough to ping your radar, but let’s be sure. Have them check the Volvo carefully for damage too. Then you take the rest of the day off.”
“I can finish my shift,” she protested.
“I know you can,” he agreed. Amelia was ex-Army and tough as nails when she needed to be. She’d been through much worse than a few seconds of tense driving action. “Indulge me. I’m going to be on edge the rest of the day anyhow. I might as well be on duty. Tell you what. I’ll call you when we’re leaving and you can come drive backup when we head home.”
“Is that really necessary?” Fynn asked. “How will I get my car back?”
“I’ll drive you home,” Nolan told him. “We’ll have your car delivered by one of my people, but if you want to use it again, I need to add dash and rear cameras, and some other safety features. Would you consider upgrading to a newer model?” Nolan was guessing not.
Sure enough, Fynn jutted out his jaw. “I like my car.”
“Fair enough.” Changing cars was a fight he wouldn’t take on today. He’d ask Amelia how well the Volvo handled in a pinch and if she said, “like a drunken pig,” then he’d push harder. “Why don’t we go up to your lab. You’ll settle better with something to do.” He already knew Fynn well enough to be certain of that.
“And coffee.” Fynn’s eyes brightened. “I’d kill for some coffee.”
“Are you sure your nerves need caffeine?” he asked as they went to the elevators and Fynn keyed the research floor lock.
“Yes.”
Well, that was pretty uncompromising. Fynn seemed to spend most of his time with his blood at fifty-percent coffee, outdoing any other caffeine addicts Nolan had worked with, but the man was an adult, and a bioscientist as well. It wasn’t Nolan’s place to argue, even though he worried about Fynn’s blood pressure.
