Alarm
(Set sometime before No Good Deed.)
"I think you might be wrong on this one, Finch. I think the perp is—"
All at once Reese realized that his boss was no longer walking next to him. He swiveled to see that Finch had stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, heedless of pedestrians pushing past him. His hand was just touching the pocket where his phone was, and his eyes had widened a little.
"Harold?" Reese stepped back towards him, putting out a hand to steer him out of the stream of foot traffic. "What's wrong?"
"I—nothing." Slowly, Finch brought his focus back to his associate. "It's nothing. I just—remembered—something. An appointment."
Reese studied the other man's suddenly ashen face. "I hope it's a doctor's appointment. You don't look well."
Finch turned abruptly, pulling free of Reese's grasp. "I'll see you at the library," he called back, and headed off faster than Reese had ever seen him move.
It was Reese's turn to stand and stare, for once caught completely off guard. Not that it mattered. Had he spotted the flash of red hair in the crowd, just about a hundred yards away, it would have meant nothing to him—then.