Page 43 of Philly
Which both worried and intrigued him.
“Which is?” he asked.
“Joseph Nolan booked himself into a high-end resort in southern Utah that specializes in extreme sports. Guess who’s going to join him.”
24
Gabriel stared at her. His expression remained neutral, but not in a trulyneutralsense. Even as kids, when he needed to process something, his expression would go eerily blank.
She didn’t rush him, but as the silence stretched, two thoughts settled in her mind. First, she’d made the assumption that he’d be as excited as she was about the opportunity to get close to one of the key suspects. Second, he wasn’t.
“Gabriel?”
His lips tightened, and he glanced out the window. A beat later, he took a deep breath and turned back to her. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
She cocked her head, trying to get a read on him. He’d summarized her findings already. Why did he want to go over them in detail rather than help her plan her approach with Joseph?
She searched his expression, looking for any clues. He held so still that she almost missed it. The thrumming of his pulse, beating against the skin on his neck. Not so rapid as to worry her, but faster than what his resting pulse should be.
Her plan to put herself in proximity to Joseph Nolan bothered him.
Instincts kicked in, and her body tightened as she braced herself to defend her decision. Instead of the outburst she anticipated, he lifted his hand and set it on hers. The rough warmth of his fingers curling around hers startled her, and she looked down at where they touched.
Staring at his strong, steady hand holding hers, a funny thing happened. Something quieted in her body, and the tension she’d felt seconds ago seeped away. She didn’t have to explain herself; he wouldn’t ask or require that of her. But as the anxiety faded, awareness filled the space. There’d been moments in the past few days when attraction drifted between them like mist—undeniably there but without much substance. With his touch, though, the first since they’d talked about that night, what had been insubstantial and hesitant crystallized into something much more.
“Please, Calypso,” he said. “Start at the beginning.” He gave her hand a gentle, almost beseeching squeeze. She looked up.
Like a fluorescent light flickering on in a dark morning, understanding hit her. He needed time. Time to process that she’d signed up to “befriend” someone who might be involved in funding terrorists. Who might be partly responsible for her friend’s murder.
Because he cared. About her. Maybe more than he wanted, but as she searched his eyes, he didn’t look particularly annoyed or as if he regretted it or wanted to fight it. He didn’t even look resigned, her least favorite expression. She’d seen it enough on her parents’ faces every time she fell short of their expectations. A combination of disappointment and reluctant acceptance.
No, Gabriel held her gaze, simply asking for time.
She nodded. “Of course.” She turned her hand over and, palm to palm, she returned his reassuring squeeze with one ofher own before extracting her hand and bringing her computer to life.
“Of the 3,878 transactions, just under a third of them conflict with either charges on Rian’s credit card elsewhere or events we verified he attended through social media—charity lunches, that sort of thing. Nothing too high-profile—that doesn’t seem to be his style—but a big deal for the hosting organization, so they posted most of the pictures.”
“What about Joseph and Aiden?”
“There are a third that couldn’t have been Joseph, and the rest could have been either of them as both were in the building at the time.”
“This doesn’t really change what you’re thinking, though, does it?”
She didn’t hear any challenge or judgment in his voice.
She shook her head. “It could have just been Aiden. But at this point, it could also be a combination of any of them. Until I have solid evidence that Rian isn’t involved, there are several scenarios that we—I—need to keep an open mind to.”
He inclined his head. “Any chance you’re looking at someone outside the family?”
A twitch of panic lanced through her. She didn’t have a ready answer for that question. Gabriel reached over and touched her hand again, a fleeting brush of his fingers over hers. Enough to remind her where she was. And where she wasn’t. She wasn’t in front of her parents, who expected perfection and answers to everything—the right answers. Or the FBI, who’d write her off if she didn’t have solid evidence. This was Gabriel and HICC. A different world.
“I thought about it,” she said. Gabriel nodded in encouragement. “But two things, well, three, if you count my instincts?—”
“Which I do,” he said.
She smiled. “Held me back,” she continued. “First, Liza’s notes on the Nolans never mentioned anyone other than them. She talked about their business enterprise, so it’s possible she meant for me to interpret that as including the entire company. But she mentioned the Nolans by name. Well, by emoji. No one else.”
“You knew her best. Would she have named someone else if she suspected them?”
