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Ryan pretended. He and Claire interacted in a way that only masqueraded as combat. But both Marc and Casey recognized it as a smoke screen for something more.
    At this point, Claire was rising to her feet. Tall and willowy, with pale blond hair and light gray eyes, Claire had a gentle, ethereal quality about her that suited her calling. Now, she released the bicycle handlebars, brushed a strand of hair off her cheek and spotted them. An exasperated expression crossed her face when she saw Ryan. Clearly, she was not in the mood for a verbal sparring match. And Ryan was practically vibrating to start one.
    Casey’s grin widened. An electrically charged tête-à-tête was definitely on the horizon. And Casey and Marc had already placed their bets on a timeline—and an outcome—for that.
    For now, some barbed banter would be fine with her. The moments of levity would feel good. More than good. It would be like Novocain before a root canal. Because the latter was what they were about to walk into. Child abductions were among the toughest crimes to swallow.
    “Play nice, Ryan,” she said drily as they approached the garage. “Claire knows what she’s doing. So don’t give her too much crap.”
    “Who? Me?” he replied with mock innocence.
    “Yeah. You look like a lion who’s been prodded with a sharp stick. Relax. You can go back and hole up in your lair as soon as we get the lay of the land here.” Casey reached Claire and stopped. “Hi, Claire. You’re working this case?”
    A friendly nod. “And, obviously, so are you. Anything I can do to help out, let me know.”
    Ryan made a derisive sound. “I think we’ll rely on science. Messages from inanimate objects just don’t cut it, at least not for me. But thanks anyway, Claire-voyant.”
    “Ah, Ryan. More obnoxious than usual, I see. What happened? Did you forget your Batman lunch box?”
    “Ignore him,” Casey advised. “He hasn’t slept in a few days.”
    “Well, that explains it.” Claire looked more amused than bothered—which pissed Ryan off even more. “Thanks for the news flash. I’ll consider myself forewarned.”
    With that, she headed into the house. “Time to commune with inanimate objects,” she called over her shoulder. “You’d be surprised how much talking they do—in a world that’s realer than cyberspace.”
    Ryan definitely had an answer for that one, but he pressed his lips together and refrained from spouting it, as he, Casey and Marc reached the CARD team.
    “So, the Willises hired you already.” Special Agent Guy Adams looked even more unhappy than Ryan about the prospect of working together. Adams was a trained hostage negotiator, in his mid-thirties, sharp, and as competitive as Ryan and Marc. And he had little regard for approaches other than those he’d learned through the Bureau—least of all Forensic Instincts and their out-of-the-box methods.
    “Is that a problem?” Marc asked in a cool, probing tone.
    “Not as long as you don’t overstep.”
    “We’re here to work with you, Guy. You and C-20.” Casey nipped the tension in the bud. “We all want the same thing—to bring Krissy Willis home, safe and with as little trauma as possible. So let’s not turn this into a pissing match.”
    “Our special agents are already inside,” Guy informed her, purposely sidestepping her attempt at detente. “The New York Field Office sent Harrington and Barkley. They’re with the parents now, working on the Child Victim Background Questionnaire. The rest of the New York team is at Krissy’s school, along with a couple of agents from the White Plains RA. Harrington and Barkley are about to debrief us. Harrington is lead case agent on this one.”
    “Good choices,” Casey replied.
    “Glad you approve.”
    “I do.” Casey ignored his sarcasm. She was mulling over the agents she was about to deal with in the Willis home. Peg Harrington and Ken Barkley were both seasoned agents who’d been working CAC cases for over a