“You don’t want to tell me?” If I hadn’t spent so much time with him, I might miss the amused expression partially concealed by his headset and sunglasses.

“I want to talk to Wayne more.”

“You suspect him?”

“What? No. He has about as much reason as Reyes. Neither of those men needed money. They had good jobs with fat bonuses practically guaranteed until retirement. But he knew Reyes well. All I have on Reyes is the information in this file. I’d like to get a sense for his state of mind and his personality.”

“It’s rather clear Reyes was working for someone. Someone with enough power and influence to arrange his murder in a holding cell.”

“Right. So, who? I’m curious who his biggest clients were.”

“Why?”

“Well, what if this was supposed to be a diversion? Like it has more to do with a shady gun deal, and they just wanted the executive team distracted?”

“I’ve thought about that. But Erik had an investigative accountant review the books. He didn’t find anything below board.”

“Well, who knows when Wayne will have time to talk with me, anyway? But…”

“You can’t let it go?”

“It’s a puzzle. I don’t like unsolved puzzles.”

“Puzzle lover?” he asks. The farther away from San Diego we go, the more he relaxes.

“I’d stay up all night. Never understood how people could just have it out on a table for days.”

He laughs. It’s low and deep. I have this stirring desire to reach out and cover his hand with mine, like I did on the way to meet his sister. But instead, I focus on the reams of paper in my lap.

When we land, we swing by to pick up Trace from his apartment, and he drops me off at my house.

“Busy afternoon?” he asks from the driver’s seat. Trace tugs on his leash, ready to leap out of the car.

“I need to catch up with my TA. He’s really gone above and beyond for me this past week. What about you?”

“Busy,” he confirms. “I’m behind. BAU office work.”

I nod, open the door, and grip the leash. Trace bounds forward, eager to get into his house.

Ryan carries my luggage to the front door.

“Thanks,” I say.

There’s uncertainty in the air, or in me. We never really finished our conversation. We’re only seeing each other, but I’m not sure what he expects or wants.

“Alex.” He breathes out my name, long and slow. His touch on my hand calms the jitters that came out of nowhere. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. Later.” He places a quick peck on my cheek, his foot hits the grass, and he stops. “Wait. Let me check your house.”

“What?”

“Just…” He holds up a hand. “Work with me. I’ll feel better.”

I unlock my front door and swing it wide for him. Sixty seconds later, he returns to the front door.

“All clear. Thanks for that.”

“Any time.”

Again, he stops the moment his foot hits the grass. He turns around.