Disappointment filled his gaze, but he shrugged. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. And we agreed that we wouldn't look at the past or the future. We'd just live in the moment."
"The moment has been great."
"It has."
Despite the fact that they'd just agreed on keeping the night separate from everything else, she found herself going back. "I have to say, Quinn, I never really knew how you felt about me being pregnant. You said all the right things, but the emotion behind the words was never quite real."
"Then I didn't express myself very well, because the emotions were there, and they were very real."
She wanted to believe him. "You were so distracted that last day at the coffee cart. Was it just the worry over a possible protest, knowing you weren't going to go with me to the ceremony, or was it also about the baby?"
"You still don't know how you want to feel about me, do you?"
"What do you mean?" she asked warily.
"You hate me, you love me, you'd like to forget me… You change your mind every few minutes. You want me, but you don't want to want me. And that's a quote."
"What do you mean, that's a quote?"
"You said that to me when I brought you out of the building."
"Well, I was high."
"You were also being truthful. It's okay. I understand the conflict."
"Because you feel the same way?" she challenged.
"Yes, but not for the same reason."
"What would be your reason?"
He stared back at her. "It doesn't matter. We said we weren't going to talk about the past."
"But we are talking about it, so answer the question."
"I've loved four people in my life in a way that I haven't loved anyone else. My dad, my mom, Donovan, and you. Three out of four of those people are dead and the fourth one can never forgive me for what I did to hurt her. I don't want to want you, Caitlyn, because I fear there's nowhere for us to go. That the wound I left you with will never heal. But I'm glad we have tonight. I don't expect tomorrow. I don't expect anything."
She felt a rush of compassion for Quinn. He had lost so much in his life. She wanted to give him what he wanted—what she might want, too. But she wasn't ready. The words wouldn't come.
He had hurt her deeply, in a way only someone she'd loved as much as she'd loved him could do. How could she risk her heart on him again?
A buzzing sound made her start. She'd forgotten the outside world even existed. Quinn grabbed her phone off the dresser and tossed it to her.
She was surprised to see the number and quickly took the call. "Spencer, I've been trying to reach you all day. Where have you been?"
"I just heard about Kevin," Spencer said, his voice slurred and thick with emotion.
Or was there more to it than that?
"Are you drunk?"
"Trying to get there. I can't believe someone would shoot Kevin in the middle of Golden Gate Park. And you were there? Dad said you were with him when it happened."
"I was. Kevin asked me to meet him there. When did you talk to Dad?"
"A little while ago. Do they know who did it? Who killed him?"
"No."
"What did Kevin want? What did he say to you?"
She debated how to answer that question. She couldn't believe Spencer was guilty of what Kevin had suggested. He was her brother. She knew him. But she wasn't just his sister; she was also an FBI agent, and the stakes were very high. She glanced across the bed at Quinn.
At her questioning gaze, he shrugged, and said softly, "Trust yourself."
She decided to trust herself and to trust Quinn. She put the phone on speaker.
"Kevin wanted to talk about you," she said.
"What about me? Why would he want to talk to you about me?" Spencer asked, concern in his voice. "What's going on, Caitlyn?"
"Kevin suggested that you had something to do with the bomb at Bolton ten years ago, that you didn't show up for the opening ceremony because you knew what was going to happen."
"That's insane," Spencer said loudly, amazement in his voice. "You think I let you walk into a bomb?"
"I'm telling you what Kevin said."
"I broke my tooth. I went to the dentist. You can probably call him and verify that."
"Dr. Richardson?"
"No. It was a different person. I couldn't get in to see Dr. Richardson, so a friend of mine gave me her dentist, Doctor…Damn, I can't remember the name. Wait, it was Dr. Stanyon. Yeah, I think that was it. Or Standish. I only went the one time. Her office was in Noe Valley. I can find the number, I'm sure."
He was giving her a lot of details, but she didn't like the fact that he hadn't gone to his regular dentist, that he couldn't remember the name, that his explanation wasn't as straightforward as she wanted it to be.
"I can't believe this is happening," Spencer continued. "Why would Kevin suggest such a thing?"
"He wanted me to get the FBI to drop the case. He said the trail would lead to you, that you've been plotting against Carlson Industries for years. That you hate Dad, and you want to take down everything he has built."
"That's ridiculous. You don't believe him, do you? God! Does anyone else know what Kevin said?"
"Not yet. I want to protect you, Spencer, but I need to figure out what Kevin was involved in. You have to try to help me."
"What can I do?"
"Did Kevin ever say anything to you about Allison or her group? Did he mention that Allison had a boyfriend named Tim?"
"What? She was dating Kevin and some other guy?"
"Not just any guy—Donovan's younger brother. I think they're involved in these new attacks, Spencer. But they're missing, and we can't find them."
"That's…unbelievable. I don't know anything about Allison or this other guy."
"I think Allison might have been using Kevin to get access to something. Has anything unusual happened at Lexitech that stands out to you?"
"There was a security breach about a week ago. It didn't appear that the thieves were able to retrieve any of our proprietary information, but the techs are still trying to figure out what happened."
"That's interesting," she said, thinking that played into her theory that Kevin had been a pawn. "What did Kevin have to say about it?"
"He was afraid it would look badly on him, that Dad would hold it against him, because he oversaw the security division. I think he would have tried to blame that on me, too, but everyone knows I know nothing about that area."
"Did Kevin do anything else you found odd?"
"I haven't really been paying that much attention to him. I told you we've been fighting for months."
"Well, you need to ramp up security at Lexitech. In fact, I'd think seriously about closing down for a few days until we can figure out what's going on."
"We already doubled the security after what happened at Bolton and then at Alancor. I don't think we can get much more secure. Dad doesn't want to shut down anything. He won't cower to terrorists."
She frowned as Spencer echoed what their father had said to her earlier in the day. "I know. He won't shut down the gala, either."
"Well, I'm not going. Neither is Baxter. He doesn't want to take any chances with Lana being pregnant."
"Good. What about Mom?"
"I told her she shouldn't go, but she said she can't let Dad down. She has to be by his side. You know she doesn't like change. They go to the gala every year. It's their tradition. And she trusts Dad to keep her safe."
"I hate that they're not taking this seriously enough."
"Well, the hotel will probably be a fortress tomorrow night. Caitlyn, I hope you don't have any doubts about me. What can I say to make you realize I would never hurt you?"
"You don't have to say anything. I believe you."
"Thank God. I really did break my tooth. I wish it had been me and not you in that explosion."
"Even if you'd come, I would have been there, too."
"I should have made
sure neither one of us was there. Despite Quinn's assertion that the LNF would leave the opening alone, I had doubts. I wasn't sure I could trust Quinn. He was in deep with that group, and it's not like he hid his feelings about the environmental record of Carlson Industries when he was having dinner with us."
She saw Quinn flinch at the end of the bed. Suddenly, he was on his feet, walking to the window, his back stiff as a poker, as he looked out at the dark night.
"Quinn didn't know about it," she said.
"I know you want to believe that."
"I do believe it."
"Because you loved him."
"Yes. And I love you, Spencer, which is why I'm willing to believe in you, why I'm putting my career on the line for you."
"I appreciate that."
"Where are you now?"
"San Luis Obispo."
"What?" she asked in surprise. "Why?" San Luis Obispo was three hours south of San Francisco.
"I was feeling restless and hyped up this morning. I just got in my car and started driving. I made it to LA, spent a few hours on the beach, then started back, but I got tired, and I pulled over at a hotel. I had my phone off all day. When I turned it on, I saw all your messages as well as those from everyone else in the family. I had no idea what was going on."
She frowned, her trust in him wavering a little with this latest piece of information. On the face of it, it seemed understandable. But it was also strange that he'd been out of the city and out of touch when Kevin had been gunned down. Was she making a mistake? She really hoped not.
"You need to come back first thing in the morning," she told him. "Call me when you get to the city. We can meet and continue our conversation. I'd like to know more about the breach at Lexitech. Maybe my cyber techs can work with yours to trace it."
"Whatever we can do. I didn't think it was tied to Bolton, because it happened a week before that. And it's not like we haven't been hit before."
"Well, it's something to check. We'll talk tomorrow."
She ended the call. When Quinn didn't return to the bed, she got up and walked over to him, sliding her arms around his waist and resting her head on the back of his shoulders. She didn't say anything, and he didn't, either.
Finally, he turned around, his hands coming to rest on her waist as he gazed into her eyes. "Thanks for defending me."
"I told the truth." She paused. "Do you think my brother was being honest? Or am I being blinded by love and family loyalty?"
Indecision played through his eyes. "I've always been suspicious of stories with too many details."
"Me, too. But Spencer is a talker. He never uses one sentence when he can use five."
He smiled. "True. For what it's worth, I think he was being honest. I don’t believe he was involved in any of these events. The play was to get you to doubt him, to spend time looking in a different direction."
"I agree. I hope we can find Allison, Tim, and Lauren soon. Maybe we should try to talk to Vinnie tomorrow. He was married to Lauren. He had to know her sister. He might be helpful."
"I'm game. I just hope tomorrow isn't too late. I feel like every minute counts."
"I know, but there's nothing more to do tonight," she said. "You're awfully amped up for someone who should be feeling a little more relaxed. I might have to do something about that."
"Oh, yeah? What would you do?"
"Let me show you." She took his hand and led him to the bed. "Lay down."
He did as she asked, and before she stretched out next to him, she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.
"Hold on, we're watching TV?" he asked in disappointed surprise.
"You need to calm down, and I know the trick." She flipped through the channels, landing on a baking show. "Perfect. Here we go." She looked over at Quinn. "They're making scones."
He gave her a smile. "You do know the trick."
"Whenever you'd get stressed out studying, which was a lot of the time, because you were one of those annoying people who just had to get an A, we'd turn on the Food Network."
"Because it reminded me of my mom. When she had cancer, she couldn't concentrate on anything, but for some reason watching people make food made her happy. And spending that time with her made me happy."
"I was touched when you shared that memory with me, and even more when we started watching the cooking shows together. Whenever I've felt stressed the last ten years, I find myself looking for one of these shows."
"And yet it doesn't sound like you do a lot of cooking."
She laughed. "I like to watch, not necessarily cook."
"Do you think about me when you're watching the shows?" he asked.
"Far too much." She curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest. "Look at those blueberries. They are plump and juicy."
He laughed. "Okay, no dirty talk or the TV is going off."
She lifted her head and gave him a mischievous smile. "You don't want me to talk about how she's kneading the crust with her hands, rolling and twisting?"
"Definitely not twisting," he said with a grin. "But I like kneading. And rubbing. And anything else. Ah," he said, as her hand slid down his chest. "I thought we were going to relax."
"I changed my mind. Do you have a problem with that?"
"Not even a little bit."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sunday morning came too fast. Quinn woke up to the sun streaming through the window and the sound of a hair dryer. Sadly, the other side of the bed was empty. He shouldn't be surprised that Caitlyn was up. She'd always been an early riser. No doubt she was already thinking about what they needed to do today. Their momentary respite was over, but what a night it had been. He smiled to himself, thinking that he hadn't felt this happy in…well, ten years. There had been other women in his life, but no one like Caitlyn. No one who knew him as well as she did.
But the night was over, and neither one of them had made a promise for more. Although he wanted more, much more. But it had to be Caitlyn's choice. He'd made the decision to leave her. It had to be her decision if she wanted them to stay together, to have more than one night.
The dryer went off and she walked out of the room, dressed in black denim and a cream-colored sweater, her thick, reddish-brown hair falling over her shoulders, her cheeks rosy from her shower. There was a happy sparkle in her eyes, and he wanted to think he was at least partially responsible for that.
"Good morning," she said, as she came over to the bed and gave him a long, hot kiss.
He pulled her down on the mattress. "You took your shower too soon." He kissed her again. "You should have waited for me."
She gave him a regretful smile. "We need to get to work."
"Is there news?"
"No. I was just texting with Emi. Allison and Tim are in the wind, as is Lauren. There was evidence that Lauren left her house in a hurry sometime yesterday or the day before. One of the neighbors said he saw her putting a suitcase in her car Friday afternoon."
"I wonder where she went."
"And if she's with her sister and with Tim."
"It still feels surreal to think she's involved in all this. She's another person I underestimated." He cleared his throat. "What's the game plan?"
"The gala is tonight, hosted by my parents at the Vanguard Hotel. The silent auction and cocktail hour begin at six, dinner at seven. I think we should try to get a room at the Vanguard for tonight. I'm not sure if they're sold out, but if they're not, I'd like to be on site for the event. That way I can help with security. The gala would be the perfect opportunity for a terrorist group to make a big statement. The fact that everyone seems to be clearing out of their homes leads me to believe that there will be a significant attack somewhere very soon."
"Unless the gala is a decoy. It's an obvious target, and it will put a lot of security in one place, leaving other places more vulnerable. What about the Carlson Tower?"
"It will not be left unattended. It's impossible for us to cov
er every scenario, but those two will be fortified with security. However, with the variety of crimes that have been committed in the past several days the team is stretched thin, which I'm sure is part of the plan. Why don't you shower?" she suggested. "I'll call the Vanguard and see if I can get us a room. Then we'll get breakfast before we head into the city. I could use more than those muffins you got from the store."
"Deal." As he got out of bed, he couldn't help but notice the wistful look in her eyes as her gaze ran down his naked form. "You could take another shower," he teased. "I would make it worth your while."
"Tempting, but I need to get my head back in the game."
"Next time."
"Who said there's going to be a next time?"
"There will be," he said, wishing he felt as confident as his words.
Two hours later, after breakfast at a bayfront restaurant in Sausalito, Quinn slid into the passenger seat once more as Caitlyn got behind the wheel. It was half past eleven when they crossed over the Golden Gate Bridge, and with each passing mile, his mood changed from happy and relaxed to tense and uneasy. He had no idea what the day would bring, but their brief respite from the madness was over.
Caitlyn's phone started blowing up with texts, and after a quick look, she said, "I need to go into the office. I'll drop you at the hotel. You can check in, and then I'll meet you back there."
"I don't want to just sit around a hotel room," he grumbled, wishing he had his own vehicle, but it was still at Wyatt's house. "Why don't you drop me off at my car? I can call for roadside service, get the tire fixed, or get it towed to a shop."
"That will take too long. I'd rather you just went to the hotel." She gave him a pleading smile. "I promise I won't be long. When I'm done, we can talk to Vinnie together. He has a condo in North Beach. It's in the same building as Rocco's. Remember that place?"
Daring Deception Page 23
