Daring Deception

by Barbara Freethy

Wyatt pushed up his sleeve. "I had it redone. It's not a snake anymore."

  No, it wasn't. Wyatt had had the snake turned into a fire-breathing dragon. "Why did you change it?"

  Wyatt met his gaze. "Because after the bombing, I thought maybe Donovan was the snake, and I'd been a fool to follow him. I believed he was a good guy fighting for a good cause, but I might have been wrong."

  "What was the meaning of the snake tattoo?" Caitlyn asked.

  "Donovan said that's what we needed to do—cut off the heads of the evil snakes so they couldn't keep injecting their poison into the world."

  "That's dramatic," she murmured.

  "It seemed cool, and I was probably high when we did it. I don't remember it that clearly. But after the bomb, I started thinking about the snake and what Donovan had said, and how he got this crazed look in his eyes when he talked about the LNF. Knowing that he might have killed you, Caitlyn, it woke me up."

  "He killed people, Wyatt. I wasn't the only victim."

  "I know, and that's when I was done being an activist, especially with that group. Now, it has happened again." Wyatt shook his head. "I actually told Kevin not to do the symposium. I warned him about getting involved with another environmental group, but he didn't want to say no."

  "Why not?" Caitlyn asked. "Because he wanted Lexitech to show that it was being a green corporate citizen?"

  "That was part of it."

  "What was the other part?" Quinn asked.

  "There was a girl."

  "Wait," Caitlyn cut in. "I've heard about this girl. She's a student at Bolton. Spencer told me Kevin was dating someone, but he didn't know the name. Do you?"

  "Sure. Allison Sullivan. And you will not believe it, but she's Lauren Sullivan's sister."

  His pulse jumped at the connection between Allison and Kevin. "Are you serious?" he asked. "Kevin is dating Lauren's sister?"

  "I know it's crazy," Wyatt said, meeting his gaze. "Kevin met her about six weeks ago when she reached out to book him for the symposium and he fell hard. He brought her into my bar one night and they were all over each other. I've actually been wondering about her, hoping she's all right and not one of the students who was injured. I texted Kevin, but he hasn’t gotten back to me."

  "She wasn't injured," Caitlyn said.

  "That's good news. She's a sweet girl, not intense or edgy like Lauren. Allison is a kindhearted soul."

  "What do you know about Allison's group?" Caitlyn asked.

  "Not much. They aren't that active or well organized. Allison said that they've been trying to get new members, and the symposium had gotten more students excited to join, because it looked like they were actually doing something." Wyatt cleared his throat as he checked his watch. "I have to meet someone soon. Can we cut to the chase? Am I in trouble for going to Bolton yesterday, Caitlyn?"

  "I wouldn't expect trouble, unless you haven't told me the entire story."

  "I was there for like five minutes. It was an impulse—obviously a bad one. But seriously, Caitlyn, you know me. You both do. Can you see me making a bomb? I couldn't even pass basic chemistry. It's not in my nature. I'm a lover, not a killer."

  Quinn had to admit it was difficult to see Wyatt as a bomber. This easygoing, self-deprecating attitude was how he'd always been. Wyatt had never taken himself or life that seriously. Maybe he had just been high when he'd gone with Donovan to get the snake tattoos.

  "Then help us figure out who could have been helping Donovan," Caitlyn said.

  "I honestly don't know. The people I've seen since then are all leading normal lives. No one is still protesting anything, not even Hank, who would have probably been my second suspect after Donovan. But Hank runs a gym now, and he spends all his time there. I don't think he cares about the environment anymore." Wyatt's gaze moved to him. "What's your role in all this, Quinn? And where have you been all these years?"

  "Not that far away. I'm helping Caitlyn look for answers."

  "I would think you'd have more answers than I do. You and Donovan were best friends. You knew him better than anyone."

  "At one time."

  "I always wondered if you'd gotten the truth from Donovan before he died. You had to be one of the last people to see him."

  He stiffened, not liking the new gleam in Wyatt's gaze. "Why would you say that?"

  Wyatt gave him a long look. "It doesn't matter."

  "It matters," Caitlyn cut in. "Why would you think Quinn talked to Donovan last?"

  "I don't want to cause trouble."

  Quinn suspected that's exactly what Wyatt wanted to do.

  "Just say it," Caitlyn ordered.

  "Well, here's the thing. Donovan asked me to meet him in Yosemite, but I told him no. I just didn't know what was going on with him at that point. But then I changed my mind. I love to hike. And I thought to myself, what if Donovan is innocent, and everyone is abandoning him? So, I drove up there." Wyatt paused. "When I got to the campground, I was pretty sure I saw your Jeep in the lot, Quinn. I headed down the trail to where I thought Donovan would climb, and that's when I saw the crowd and the commotion. There was an area roped off and someone said a hiker had fallen and died. I had a bad feeling about it. I waited for hours to find out who it was, and it was Donovan."

  "You were there, Quinn?" Caitlyn demanded. "You were in Yosemite?"

  "No," he said, shaking his head. "I wasn't there. That wasn't my Jeep." He made the lie as convincing as he could.

  "I guess I was wrong," Wyatt said with a shrug, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that hadn't been there before.

  Maybe Wyatt's laid-back surfer dude attitude was just a front. "You just said you weren't hanging out with Donovan after the blast because you weren't sure if he was involved. Why would you suddenly decide to join him on a hiking trip?" he challenged.

  "I told you why. Everyone was treating him like he had the plague, and I didn't know for sure that he was guilty. I thought it would be a good chance to talk to him. But I was too late. The park rangers said it looked like he slipped and fell. I wondered if he didn't just let go. Maybe he felt guilty for what had happened. I don't know." He took a breath. "You should have come to the funeral, Quinn."

  "I couldn't come. I couldn’t mourn him that way."

  "It was rough," Wyatt admitted. "Donovan was only twenty-three years old. We looked up to him, but he was a kid like us."

  "I know," he said, feeling a deep pit in his stomach.

  "Donovan was trying to do good things. I just think he started listening to the wrong people," Wyatt said. "Like Gary or Hank. They had a different agenda. Their motives weren't as pure as Donovan's."

  "Then why don't you think Gary or Hank set the bomb?" Caitlyn challenged.

  "I don't know that they didn't," Wyatt replied. "But they did nothing without checking with Donovan. He was the leader. No one made moves that he was unaware of, except maybe that last one. Maybe he realized he'd lost control."

  "If he'd realized that and he wasn't involved, he could have turned someone in," Caitlyn said.

  "I don't know what to say except that I'm sorry, Caitlyn. I really am. Honestly, if I had proof of who the bomber was, I would have told someone, regardless of what my father wanted." He paused as his phone rang. "Damn. Can this phone hear me talk? My dad is calling. That can't be good." He let it go to voicemail. "Is there anything else?" He'd no sooner finished speaking when the phone began ringing again. "He will not give up. I better take this. Can you see yourselves out?"

  "We might need to talk to you again," Caitlyn said.

  "You know where to find me." Wyatt waved them toward the door as he answered the phone.

  As they walked out of the condo, Quinn didn't instantly pull the door all the way shut, as he and Caitlyn listened.

  "How did you know that?" Wyatt asked, surprise in his voice. "Is someone watching me?" He paused. "Are you kidding me?" And then his voice faded away as he moved farther into the apartment.

  He pulled the door shut, meeting Caitly
n's gaze. "Sounds like Senator Pederson knows we're here. Who else at the FBI knows Wyatt was at Bolton yesterday?"

  "At least two agents. My boss wasn't eager for me to pursue Wyatt because of the senator's power, and the other agent is busy with the newest attack. I can't imagine either went rushing to inform the senator." She paused, blowing out a frustrated breath. "My head is spinning. I keep going around and around in a circle and I never end up anywhere new."

  "That's the problem with circles," he said dryly.

  "And that's not helpful."

  "What do you want to do now?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "How about a drink?"

  "That's a great idea."

  He smiled at her enthusiasm. "We could go over to the beach, hit up the Buena Vista."

  She sucked in a breath. "Let's go somewhere we haven't been before. I can't take another trip down memory lane right now."

  "We could head over the bridge into Sausalito."

  "That's a better plan. We can go to Jake's in Tiburon. My sister-in-law said it's new and great."

  "Sounds good. Shall I meet you there?" he asked, pausing by his car.

  "Why don't you follow me?"

  "All right." Before he could move, a loud pop made him jump, and the window of his SUV shattered. "What the—"

  "Get down," she said, grabbing his arm and dragging him around the back of the car as another blast echoed through the air.

  He suddenly realized what was happening. Someone was shooting at them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Caitlyn pulled out her gun as another shot hit the car bumper.

  "What are you doing?" he asked in shock.

  "Giving you cover. When I shoot, get in the car."

  "Seriously."

  "Trust me."

  Before she could fire, the front tire of the SUV was hit. "We're not taking my car anywhere."

  "We'll take my car," she said decisively. "When I shoot, run across the street."

  That seemed like a bad idea. While the street was narrow, he'd be a big target. But there was no other option. They had to get away. And he needed to trust her.

  "Go, now," she said, as she stood up and fired.

  Her three shots covered him to the car.

  Caitlyn fired off another series of shots as she ran across the street.

  She jumped behind the wheel, and he got into the passenger seat. A bullet shattered the rear window. Caitlyn started the car and peeled out of the spot. There were no more shots, but as he glanced in the side-view mirror, he saw a man jumping into a black car.

  "He's going to follow us," he told her.

  "I see him," she said grimly.

  He put on his seat belt, bracing his hand on the door as she flew around a corner. The streets were narrow and steep in this part of town and not the place you wanted to have a car chase. But Caitlyn didn't seem bothered at all. There was determination and confidence in her gaze.

  "Are you okay?" she asked, flinging him a quick look.

  "I'm fine. Did you get a look at the shooter?"

  "He was too far away. What about you?"

  "Same." He gritted his teeth as she flew past a stop sign, sliding between a bus and another car. Looking in the side-view mirror, he saw the black car behind them. There was a man in the front seat, but he couldn't get a good look at him. He squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of the license plate. He caught the first three numbers, then the rest of them, but only because the car had drawn closer. "He's catching up."

  "Don't worry, I got this."

  Caitlyn pressed down harder on the gas, and the car lurched forward. They weren't exactly in a race car, but she seemed able to get every bit of power and maneuverability out of the vehicle. As they came down a hill, she flew through another intersection just as the light turned red. Car horns blared as the person following them almost collided with another vehicle.

  She slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a pedestrian who jumped back so fast she landed on her ass. Then they were flying down another block. Caitlyn took a quick turn into a narrow alley and drove past dumpsters and garbage cans.

  Suddenly, she slammed on the brakes, so hard he almost hit the dashboard. Then she jumped out of the vehicle.

  "What the hell?" he swore, then realized she was trying to buy them some time by shoving some dumpsters into the road.

  He got out to help her, and they dived back into the car as the other vehicle came down the alley, but their path was now blocked.

  They'd bought a few valuable minutes.

  They sped out of the alley and down three more blocks, weaving in and out of traffic, with no sign of the pursuing vehicle. "I think you lost him," he said several minutes later.

  She gave him a triumphant smile. "I think so, too." She still drove quickly but lessened her speed as she headed for the Golden Gate Bridge. "But I want to get out of the city."

  "The bridge could be a risk."

  "We're okay. I've got this, Quinn."

  "I can see that." Still, he kept a steady gaze on the mirror, not letting out a breath of relief until they had crossed the bridge and were driving north past Sausalito and Marin.

  "Where are we going?" he asked as she changed lanes and took the next exit.

  "I have no idea," she admitted. "I already passed the exit for Jake's."

  "That's fine. We should get farther away."

  "Agreed."

  He looked back at the broken glass in the rear window. "Is this a rental car?"

  "Yes. I'll have to get the window fixed before I turn it back in." She flung him a quick look. "Your car was damaged, too."

  "Well, they can both be fixed, so I can live with that result." He paused. "Why don't we go to my house?"

  She shook her head. "No. Someone just took a shot at you. Your house might not be safe."

  "They could have been shooting at you. You're the FBI agent. I'm no threat to anyone."

  "Unless they think you know something that they don't want exposed. Since we don't know for sure, we need to be strategic. We need to go somewhere and regroup."

  He thought about that, then realized he had the perfect place. "We can go to my boat."

  "If it's registered to you, even under Michael Wainscott—"

  "It's not. It's registered to my captain. He's away this weekend and won't return until Monday. He went to be with his daughter and granddaughter in Santa Cruz. His granddaughter goes to Bolton, by the way. That's how I first heard about the explosion. They were panicked, but apparently the kid was fine."

  "It's strange that you work with someone whose daughter goes to Bolton. Does he know you went there?"

  "He does not."

  "At some point, I want to hear more about how you reinvented yourself so successfully. But for now, give me directions to the boat."

  "It's in the harbor by Dillon Beach."

  She gave him a worried look. "I don't know, Quinn. Even if the boat isn't registered to you, it's still located where you live. It wouldn't be difficult to figure out you're a diver."

  She had a good point. "We'll take it out to sea."

  "We don't need to be in the harbor?"

  "Not tonight. The weather is fine. And there's a quiet cove not too far north. We can anchor there." He smiled. "Trust me, Caitlyn. I can make sure we're safe on the boat."

  She smiled. "I guess we both have our strengths."

  "You certainly showed yours tonight." He shook his head. "I'm still trying to come to grips with what just happened. If you hadn't been able to give us cover, we could both be dead."

  "But we're not. That's what matters. Don't focus on what didn't happen. Just be happy with what did."

  "Is that how you get through situations like this?"

  "It's one way. I also take a lot of deep breaths."

  He'd been trying to do that for the past twenty minutes, but it wasn't every day someone tried to kill him. Had they been shooting at him or at Caitlyn? It was impossible to know. He hadn't seen anyone come out of
their homes during the gunfire, but then he hadn't really had time to look. He wondered what Wyatt had thought when he'd heard the shots. Had he known what was happening? Had he been behind it? Had the call Wyatt received from his father had something to do with what was about to happen?

  He'd thought he'd get answers by talking to Wyatt, but now he had more questions.

  When they got to the harbor, the sun was slipping past the horizon. Caitlyn helped him ready the boat for departure, and it felt good to be the one giving her orders for a few minutes, to be in control. This was his world, and he knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

  As they left the harbor, Caitlyn stood at a nearby rail, taking long, deep breaths. Then she gave him a much more relaxed smile. "It's nice out here. It's like we just escaped reality."

  "The magic of the ocean is working already."

  She turned to face him, leaning back against the rail. "You and your ocean. I was always jealous of her."

  "The sea can be seductive," he said lightly.

  "So, I was right to be jealous."

  "No. Not even the ocean could compete with you." He paused. "I have to say, I thought you were beautiful the second I met you, Caitlyn, but now, now you're…stunning."

  She flushed at his words and tucked some wind-blown strands of hair behind her ears. "I wasn't looking for a compliment, Quinn."

  "I'm just telling the truth. I'm impressed, not just by your looks, but by everything about you. The way you handled yourself back there…" He shrugged. "You were right on it. No trace of fear. No concern for yourself. You saved my life."

  "I did what I was trained to do. I just wish I'd hit him."

  "You got us away and out of danger. That's the important thing. You drove like a madwoman. I can't believe the girl who was afraid to learn how to drive a stick shift can do what you just did."

  She shrugged. "I've actually discovered I'm a really good driver."

  "What can't you do?"

  "I think I'll keep that to myself," she said with a small smile. "I need to call my office and fill them in and see if they can pull up any footage from Wyatt's block. If we can identify the shooter, that could be a big lead."

  "Would a license plate help?"