Art gave Tim five minutes to spend with her before he was going to talk to her. He didn't want to bust in on them, but it had been years since one of his own kids had given him the chance.
Knowing better than to knock, Art went in through the conference room door and saw the pair against the other door, heading towards second base. With admittedly perverse amusement, he cleared his throat loudly.
Sadly, neither jumped. But he was treated with death glares from the both of them. "And I'm supposed to believe nothing happened in Daniel Boone. You never met before yesterday in New Orleans?"
"We were south of Plaquemine yesterday, Chief. And what kind of girl do you take me for?" Clare replied, her hand on Tim's waist. Tim's lips squeezed shut.
Art got the message loud and clear. He may be Tim's boss, but she was his woman. He grinned, "Fair enough, doc. But I need to talk to both you and my deputy."
She and Tim looked at each other and she kissed him softly before letting herself out.
Tim didn't look at him immediately, watching the space she used to occupy. "How serious is this?" Art asked quietly.
Tim pursed his lips, "Honestly? No idea. But she had Raylan call me because she had a bad feeling and I stopped walking to Brian Sullivan's car to take that call. He stopped walking because we were talking. He started the car from there because he had the time to do it. She saved my life today."
"She had a bad feeling?" Art rubbed his face. "She get these often? Or is this like Eve Munro?"
"Munro did know which gym Raylan'd be at," Tim pointed out.
Art ignored it, "She's in love with you."
Tim blinked at the floor.
"Oh, Jesus," Art clenched and unclenched his jaw, "How do you see this working out?"
"When I'm up for a promotion I just yawn and say, 'I'm tired from having a late dinner with my in-laws and the governor'," he recited.
Art sighed, "Thought about this a bit. Huh?"
"I told you I'd tell you what happened later. Now's later?"
"After we get the Sullivan's to the safe house," Art nodded. "If you protected her-"
"I didn't change the timeline to help her, Art. I've always thought she'd be safer with us."
Art believed him. "When they're at the safe house. We'll talk."
As it was Art wanted a word with Clare by herself, Tim and Raylan had had the shit played out of them before and Art was damned if he'd let it happen again.
He motioned her into the conference room and closed the door, "Edgar Moss?"
"CEO of Morley. Manipulative prick. Banters well. Pretty standard antisocial personality disorder. Why?" she shot back, keeping eye contact.
Art was running the show, and she wasn't asking the questions, "Antisocial personality disorder?"
She sighed, shot him a look and agreed to play his game, "Most people with true antisocial personality disorder are completely functional without killing other people. They're our Senators and Congressmen and crooked CEO's. Having no recognizable guilt or moral compass, makes it easier for them to pursue power and money. They're also excellent manipulators because they have to watch everyone else to teach themselves social cues and appropriate responses. My professional opinion, having met and spoken to Edgar Moss, albeit outside a medical setting, is antisocial personality disorder. But I'm not a psychiatrist, Chief." She paused, making a face, "He's always seemed a bit like Graham to me, really."
Art nodded, "He communicated with your family about your arrest. Extended condolences..."
"It would fit," she responded clinically, wheels in her head spinning. "He'd get a rise over his condolences being thanked. Is there evidence?"
Art scoffed, "It's been a day. We're good, but there are limits... The AUSA is interested in your family's dealing with Morley."
Clare looked at Art, weighing her options before confiding, "They may be attempting a hostile takeover. Since I've been gone, Morley has been making...gestures to get a foot in our door. Securities are iffy area of the law. Sarbanes-Oxley didn't exactly get rid of loopholes as much as make different ones, I understand."
Art nodded, "Thank you, Dr. Lidet."
"Clare," she corrected softly. "I don't want to Tim to pay for anything I've done wrong, Chief."
"I respect that," Art said gruffly, following her gaze to Tim. "You ought to get outta here now though. Rachel and Raylan will stay with ya'll tonight."
"Thanks, Chief."
Tim escorted Clare out to the cars with her family, her teenaged cousin's eyebrows went deep into her bangs when Clare introduced him. And she squeezed his hand as she got it and he brushed her hair from her face.
Back up in the office, he plowed through his reports for the day waiting for Rachel's call that they were at the safe house.
When Art called him in, he had an inch of his precious Pappy in a glass for him, "I tracked her until that evening. Finally catching up with her at dusk."
"Romantic," Art quipped.
Tim plowed on with his tale. How he had intended to wing her, the gunman. Art didn't interrupt until he got to the part where he pulled her out of the tree. "What did she think she was gonna do? You were right there!"
Tim chuckled, "I never asked." His smile faded, "She was so scared then, Art. And so stubborn. I liked her and... I didn't let her get away."
He got to the part with the possum and his concussion and talking before they fell asleep before Art stopped him. "Boy, you've been in love with a fugitive for years. What the hell have you been doing not looking for her?"
"Whenever you asked me where she was I had an answer, just no evidence for you to send me there," Tim smiled.
"So she was in Mexico six months ago?"
"San Miguel, south of Tijuana, she said."
"Uh huh. So, you woke up alone?"
"The second time, yeah. Friday morning, like I said. I never lied for her. And I told her that."
"But she's willing to lie for you? You never wondered about that?"
"No. I wondered why I couldn't hit her."
"Because you're a sap," Art stated baldly. "Falling for fugitive, that's up there with sleeping with a witness."
"I never slept with a fugitive."
"But you spent last night with her."
"Some of it," Tim allowed. "Not after she'd accepted protection."
Art rubbed his face. "I hope you used some. People will be doing math on you and that girl, no matter who her family is," Art cautioned. "You gonna marry her?"
Tim didn't start, a fact he was surprised by, "Probably."
"Way she looks at you, you'd better."
Tim smiled, "Give it a little time. She's still in limbo. I don't want too much thrown at her now she's got her life back."
Art smiled, "Uh huh. I hear ya."
***
Tim stayed late to run through the parking garage surveillance tapes with the most current list of license plate numbers Q had provided, which was sadly only the employees that had been in two days ago. It was still marking them off the list though. Art watched him in the conference room after reminding him he had a full day of protecting Clare tomorrow. Tim nodded and said, "Here's hoping I won't have to protect her. Good night, boss."
"Uh huh. Night."