“What are you doing?” Ryan asked.
“Trying to figure out some way to get out of here.”
“It doesn’t appear to be working.”
He was right. It wasn’t.
Cassidy stopped to catch her breath, her thoughts racing ahead—racing to Ryan. “Why does Greg want you here, Ryan? Why not let you go?”
“I suppose it’s better if they wipe out the prosecuting attorney and the lone witness.” Ryan frowned, as if the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. “He probably thinks I know too much.”
Her thoughts continued to race ahead. “But there’s something that doesn’t make sense. This guy—Greg—he keeps asking me for information. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
Even though Cassidy had an inkling, she didn’t share her theories. Not yet.
“You don’t have anything that might be beneficial to the other side? Something that would make them look bad?” Ryan glanced at her, blood trickling down his forehead and into his eyes.
Cassidy cringed at the sight.
She was designed to fight. She’d been trained. Conditioned. Tested.
But Ryan was trained to use his mind in battle. His words. His logic.
It didn’t seem fair that he was being brought into this battle also.
Then again, DH-7 had never been accused of playing fair.
She licked her lips, contemplating her next words. At this point, neither of them would probably get out of here—not unless they acted fast.
Ideas rolled around in her mind. She didn’t have time to entertain them properly. She was going to have to rely on gut instinct to get through this.
“I have something that Samuel sent me,” she finally said. “But if Samuel sent this . . . this . . . evidence to me, then these guys already have the information. They don’t need it from me. That’s what doesn’t make sense.”
“What did he send you?” Ryan asked.
She licked her lips again. “Just some information I requested, all bundled nicely on a jump drive. I’m sure there are multiple copies of it floating out there. I can’t understand why he’d need the copy I have.”
“That’s a good question. I don’t know the answer. Because you’re right—whatever you most likely have, I’m sure there are copies at the PA’s office.” He paused. “Unless Samuel sent something extra.”
A few seconds ticked by in silence. Cassidy’s thoughts continued to roll like the tumultuous ocean waves. Even mentioning that jump drive was risky—like going into the water with a deadly undertow dragging her to a near certain death. She knew all too well what that felt like.
“I’ve heard there’s fracturing within DH-7,” Ryan finally said.
“Samuel mentioned that.”
Ryan cast her a weary glance. “It’s probably better if you don’t trust most of what Samuel told you.”
“How did you discover he double-crossed you?” Cassidy sure hadn’t seen any signs.
“We have another inside guy with DH-7,” Ryan said. “He hasn’t been as successful as you, but he’s kept us in the loop about things going on. He came across the information.”
Samuel had mentioned that the task force had someone else undercover, but Cassidy had never heard a name. “Who? Who is this man?”
The guy must be good because Cassidy had been in the trenches, and she’d had no inkling the police had another guy undercover. It would have been nice to know, nice to have someone to fall back on.
“You know I can’t tell you,” Ryan said.
Cassidy had figured he would say that. The issue seemed so inconsequential right now with both of their lives on the line. “So this informant told you that the leadership of DH-7 is fracturing, and that Samuel has something to do with it?”
“We believe Samuel was on DH-7’s side all along—on their payroll. But we also believe he started to have second thoughts. That’s probably why he sent you that information.” Ryan paused and lowered his voice. “Samuel may be dead now. We’re not sure.”
“Dead? I thought you said he was missing.”
Cassidy felt around behind her, trying to reach something she could use to fray the ropes around her wrists. She glanced over her shoulder. Behind her, there was an old paperweight with a seashell on it. A remote. Some fingernail clippers.
Fingernail clippers? Those might be her best bet.
If only she could reach them.
She strained her muscles, her limbs, desperate to reach something to help her out of this situation. After a moment, her fingers connected with metal.
She’d gotten them!
“There was a warrant out for Samuel,” Ryan said, not seeming to notice what she was doing. “If the FBI found him, he probably didn’t survive. He’d rather die than be taken into custody.”
“Even if that’s true, it still doesn’t explain why Greg wants this jump drive so badly.”
“It probably has names. Maybe he wants to destroy all the copies as a safeguard.”
“All the names were all coded.” Cassidy began working the sharp tip of the nail cutters against the rope. It would be a slow process, but at least it was something.
“Maybe you should just give the jump drive to him. See if he’ll let us go.”
She jerked her gaze toward Ryan. “You and I both know that will never happen. We’re dead either way. Why give him what he wants first?”
“It might save us some pain.” As Ryan said the words, he hung his head, almost like he was physically done—like the toll on him had already been too high.
Cassidy shrugged. “I doubt it.”
If Greg’s mind was made up to torture them, he was going to torture them.
She worked the clippers harder.
“Could you tell Ty where this information is?” Ryan said. “He could bring it. Maybe we could plan our escape somehow that way. Use it as leverage.”
“I don’t want to pull Ty into this.” Cassidy paused. “Besides, he doesn’t know about the jump drive. No one does. And I hid it.”
Ryan’s eyes brightened, as if he’d found the perfect solution. “You could get a message to Ty. Tell him where you hid it.”
“How would I get a message to him?” Maybe that head injury was getting to Ryan.
“I don’t know. Maybe we could think of some way.”
“It doesn’t really matter. Ty could figure it out, even if I didn’t tell him.” The words tasted bad in her mouth. Cassidy wanted Ty to stay out of this, yet she’d put him in the very position she wanted to avoid.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I put it somewhere something else was hidden in the past. It made the most sense.” She resisted spelling it all out for Ryan. The spot was her secret, and it would be nice to keep it that.
“You’re losing me.”
Cassidy let out a long sigh and considered her response. Maybe Ryan was right. Maybe she should tell Greg. He could go retrieve the jump drive, and that would buy her more time to figure out how to escape.
She felt like she was in the middle of one of her father’s poker games right now, and that her next move could either destroy her or offer the biggest winnings of her life.
“I found this journal earlier this month in my ice cream truck,” Cassidy started. “It made the most sense that I would hide it there, behind the dash.” As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted them. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’re at risk also.”
“It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“I don’t think either of us are.” Cassidy sighed and leaned her head back, a million thoughts clashing inside. She put the information out there. Now she needed to wait. “What happened to Rachel Edwards?”
Rachel had been the prosecuting attorney of King County before Ryan, but she’d been killed by DH-7. The gang’s rampage after their leader Raul died had been deadly and hazardous for more than one person. The memory of it all made Cassidy’s heart pang with regret.
She scraped the
clippers more, feeling the rope beginning to fray.
Ryan frowned. “Rachel officially died in a car crash, but we all know it was no accident. DH-7 was trying to get her out of the way. They made attempts on my life as well, but I had a security team around me until I came here.”
Cassidy studied his face, trying to read his thoughts, to figure out what he was thinking about throughout this conversation. They still had so much to talk about. Ryan had answers that she needed.
“I never imagined just how deep I was getting into this when I took that assignment,” Cassidy muttered. It’s like they said: hindsight is twenty-twenty. She’d been so hungry for success, so hungry to make a difference, that she’d charged forward, not giving enough thought to how this would turn her life upside down.
“I don’t think you could have understood it,” Ryan said. “The scope of all this is huge, and there’s no lengths these guys won’t go to in order to get what they want.”
“It just boils down to money and power, doesn’t it? Isn’t that what’s at the core of this group?” It was a deadly motivation.
“I guess you could say that. People would do a lot to obtain those two things. You can do anything you want with money and power.”
“But they’ll cost you your soul. I’ve see that firsthand.” Images of her life growing up filled her thoughts. They’d had everything at their fingertips—except happiness. Stuff couldn’t buy people contentment. Power didn’t change diagnoses.
It had taken Cassidy’s life being turned upside down for her to see it.
“I’m sure you have experienced it indirectly,” Ryan said. “Not many people grow up in one of the richest families in the US.”
“It wasn’t all it’s made out to be.” She frowned.
“I would have killed for that when I was a kid. We ate beans and cereal every day. It was all we had money for.”
Cassidy glanced over at him, seeing a different side of him emerge. “You never told me that before when we were dating.”
“I wasn’t proud of it.”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed about. Money doesn’t define us.”
“You’re really not that naïve, are you?”
Cassidy felt her back muscles tightening. “I’m not naïve. I’ve had a change of perspective.”
“Well, in my part of the world, money is everything. I don’t ever want to be poor again.”
“Maybe you should have gone into private practice then.” Her words contained more than a touch of annoyance. She had more important things to think about now. Things like getting out of here.
Chapter Seventeen
Ty couldn’t stop pacing on the grass outside the general store. Anxiety wound tighter and tighter around his spine, like a coiling snake, with every minute that passed.
While Quinton searched Ryan’s vehicle for trace evidence, Mac was inside Swanner’s looking at security camera footage.
Ty reviewed what he knew so far, starting with the fact that Ryan was now missing or possibly dead. The man had sent some questionable texts, the ones that Ty had found on his phone, and the wording was suspect. Ty supposed those texts could be related to Ryan’s job—but maybe not. Samuel might be the bad guy who’d betrayed the FBI.
And, of course, the bigger fact was this: Cassidy might be on this island, but Ty had no idea where.
He wanted to run around, searching for her. But Mac had reminded him that it would do no good. He would only exhaust himself, and the chances he’d find her that way were slim.
Ty needed a more thought-out, concentrated method.
But thinking things out wasn’t his forte right now. He’d rather use brute force.
How had these guys found her? What had Cassidy told him Ryan said about how he’d located her?
It had been that video of the guys on flakka, terrorizing people on the boardwalk here in Lantern Beach.
As he waited, he did a search for the images on his phone. They weren’t hard to find.
He watched the video play, remembering that day all too well.
Someone had given three men a super-enhanced strain of the drug. They’d looked—and acted—like zombies. One had even tried to bite someone. He and Cassidy had stepped in. They’d had no other choice.
As he watched the video, he paused.
He could clearly see both him and Cassidy rushing in to help. But Cassidy had been wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. Her hair was now long and blonde and wavy, unlike when she’d been in Seattle. Her hair then was long, dark, and straight and often pulled into a bun. In her old life, she’d been button-up and professional. Here, she wore loose clothing and jean shorts.
In this video, she was moving quickly—too quickly to make out the details of her face.
Still, this was just one video.
There were more as tourists had rushed to capture everything on camera.
Ty clicked through a few other videos but saw more of the same.
It was nearly impossible to make out any details. And nothing about the woman in those video frames resembled the person Cassidy used to be.
Was Ryan just unusually observant?
Or was there more to his story?
Mac rounded the corner from the front of the store and walked toward Ty. “Someone just called the department. She said that Mr. Hinkle’s house has had a lot of activity this evening. Said it might not be unusual, except for the fact that Mr. Hinkle hasn’t been there in five years.”
Ty’s blood surged. Maybe this was their first real lead as to where someone had taken Cassidy. “Let’s go.”
The minutes seemed to be ticking by, moving through gelatin, as Cassidy and Ryan sat in the old cabin, tied to the heavy wooden chairs.
What was Greg doing? Cassidy wondered. When would he be back? And what would he do when he returned?
Ryan had been sitting silently beside her, his head drooping as if he were tired. Cassidy let him have his space. It gave her time to contend with her own thoughts. To continue to dig at the rope around her wrists. To pray and to pray hard.
Finally, after several minutes of quiet, Ryan raised his head. “We were a great team, Cassidy.”
Her stomach turned at his words. He must be remembering differently than she was. “Not really.”
“What was wrong with us?”
She sagged slightly against the chair, her adrenaline beginning to fade. Her body wanted to crash, and her exhaustion doubled at Ryan’s question. “For starters, we had to keep our relationship a secret.”
“I explained why.” His voice sounded all logical and without emotion. “Your dad is a polarizing figure, and I didn’t want that to affect my election.”
Cassidy frowned, wondering why they were even talking about this. Yet she couldn’t stop herself. “Ideally, you’re proud of the person you’re dating, even if their family might hurt your election campaign.”
“Touché.”
“Besides, don’t deny that you’re interested in your assistant. It’s as clear as day in those photos.”
Ryan glanced at her. “So you kept tabs on me?”
“Before I called things off.” This conversation was getting old, and Cassidy knew she should end it.
“Ouch.”
“I mean, you really think I’m going to believe that you lost your cell phone and could think of no other way to be in touch?”
He narrowed his eyes as if annoyed with the fact that Cassidy doubted him. “I really did lose it. I even wondered if someone stole it.”
“And you didn’t think to report that? Someone could have traced my number and found me.”
“Well, they didn’t, did they? The person who wants to kill you is someone who knew your location all along. Besides, I thought maybe it was working out for the best that we weren’t in touch. Especially after Rachel died. I figured someone could go after me and, like you said, trace you through that phone.”
Cassidy wasn’t sure she bought it, but the explanation did have some plausibility.
She didn’t respond—it wasn’t worth the effort.
“We’re going to get through this,” Ryan said. “We’ll get out of here. You can come back to Seattle. Everyone on the force will think you’re a super star. They already talk about your new name as Commotio Cordis.”
“I don’t want to be a super star. And I don’t see myself going back to Seattle.” Nor did Cassidy see herself getting out of this, but she didn’t bother to say that.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I love it here.” She glanced at Ryan and saw that his wounds had stopped bleeding. Maybe they weren’t as deep as Cassidy had feared. That was a small bit of good news.
“How can you love a little island? You won’t ever get anywhere here. Not career-wise.”
“Maybe the key to happiness isn’t always advancing in your career. Have you ever considered there’s more to life than that?” She didn’t want to sound judgmental or superior—she really didn’t. But Ryan’s attitude was grating on her.
“Not really.”
“And that’s one more reason it’s a good thing we broke up.” How much time had passed? How long had Greg been gone? At least an hour. Maybe more.
“You’ve changed,” Ryan said after a few minutes of silence.
“For the better.”
“I’m not so sure about that. You have so much potential, Cassidy. Why waste it? Why throw it all away for some guy?”
She cut him a sharp glance. “I’m not throwing it all away, for one thing. And Ty isn’t just some guy.”
“I have to admit . . . that kind of hurts. I always wanted to be the one you said stuff like that about.”
Cassidy didn’t buy it. “You’ve already found your true love—your job.”
“Why do I think that’s not a compliment?”
Before she could respond, the door knob jiggled. A moment later, Greg stepped inside. He smiled in a way that had Cassidy instantly feeling suspicious—and on guard.
He held something between his fingers.
Was that a . . . jump drive?
Cassidy felt the blood leave her face.
Ryan struggled against the ropes around him, as if he wanted to jump up and attack Greg. “What did you do?”
Deadly Undertow Page 10
