In the Clear - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,100

of laughter, and Freya stood to clap. I laughed too, caught Abe still smiling at me like we shared the best secret.

Abe backed out of the room and raised his palms. “Giving a man a fake name, stealing from him, then following him across all of London would fluster even the most stoic of individuals.” But when the rest of the team was turned around, Abe gave me a wink that melted my insides. “Twenty minutes until we eat,” he called back, before closing the door.

“So can a conversation get other people in a room pregnant?” Freya asked.

My hand flew to my mouth, surprised. I was suddenly very aware I was alone with Codex without Abe as a buffer. Instantly, all four of them sat up, spines straight, filled with energy. “Wait, weren’t you all jet-lagged a second ago?”

Delilah waved her hand. “That was a ruse to get Abe out of the room. Now tell us everything.” She had one arm draped loosely across Henry’s shoulder, and his hand squeezed her thigh.

“And technically we can’t drink because we’re about to go on a case, so imagine I’m opening a bottle of red wine right now,” Freya added.

“Or, given you are a stranger and don’t owe us any details about your personal life, you can choose to continue preparing for a case,” Sam said, sardonic.

Freya elbowed his side. “Way to spoil the party, Byrne.”

I flashed him a grateful smile and pulled one knee up, tossed my hair. “What do you want to know?”

The four of them had already thoroughly enjoyed our cat-and-mouse story: meeting at the lecture, his business card, our neighboring rooms, each lying to one another about our names. And I’d sensed them wanting to probe more about the nature of our relationship—and I hadn’t missed the comical looks on their faces when Abe had said, simply, that we were sharing a hotel room for safety purposes.

“So where’s home for you, Sloane?” Delilah asked, her blue eyes kind.

I hesitated. Home never felt like home. “Brooklyn. I have a home office there where I can work with clients.”

“Do you have a team you work with?” Henry asked. “Or is it only you?”

“Only me.”

“Who makes your office memes and brings donuts on Fridays?” Freya asked.

“Um… I do?” I said, unsure. My workdays featured neither of those things.

Henry leaned forward. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did Louisa connect with you?”

“Do you guys remember the stolen Audubon illustrations a few months ago?” I said.

Delilah grinned. “Yeah, and it was the obsessive bird watchers who had stolen it. The four of us couldn’t stop talking about it.”

“That’s the one,” I replied. “That was my case. My first real case working in antiquities theft. Louisa went to school with the Board President of The Murphy Library, so when she was calling around, seeking contacts, my name came up.”

“No shit,” Sam said. “You closed that case on your own?”

“Sure did,” I said.

“That’s fucking impressive,” he said. The other three detectives were nodding, approving.

“And how old are you?” Freya asked.

“Frey.” Delilah laughed.

“It’s okay.” I smiled. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Another round of nodding heads and low whistles. “Damn,” Freya said. “Five years younger than me and significantly more badass.”

“Well, I’m amazed with your slate of closed cases these past months,” I said, still smiling.

Delilah tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looked at her fiancé. “Do you think Louisa considered hiring us though? I mean, she almost hired Abe when all of this first happened.”

Henry peered at me. “Sloane’s talked to her more recently than I have. What’s your gut sense about her right now?”

It was beyond strange having Dr. Henry Finch seated on my hotel bed, given not five days ago I thought he might be an actual suspect in this case. I remembered Abe’s firm insistence to me that he was innocent; I remembered the emotions on his face as he gazed at old pictures of Bernard and Henry together. At the time, I couldn’t pin them down, but I now knew those emotions as protective. From the little I’d seen of this highly educated academic, he was too good for this world. I’d always hated the word gullible because that placed the blame on the mark whose only fault had been being trusting and open-minded. And how could you blame a person for those endearing qualities?

Over time, I was learning most children weren’t raised like I was—to view other human beings as many means to many ends.

The man in front of me was the

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