“You don’t think I was just going to leave the two of you here to chat without using it to my advantage, did you? I left a bug here, so I could listen to every word you said.”
Cassidy gritted her teeth before saying, “So you heard where I left the information?”
Greg’s smile widened. “That’s right. And there’s no one at your house because they’re all out looking for you. Worked out well.”
She sawed the ropes even more vigorously, scraping the clippers against the threads. “They’re going to find me. You’re not going to get away with this.”
She cringed at her words, knowing good and well she sounded like the hapless victim from every melodramatic cop show on TV.
“We’ll see about that.” With a new gait to his step, Greg went to his laptop computer, opened it, and stuck the thumb drive into the port.
Cassidy held her breath as she waited to see how all of this would play out. She’d suspected this scenario might materialize, and she’d planned accordingly. It was a risky move, and she wasn’t sure if it would keep her alive or kill her.
Go big or go home.
Ryan exchanged a glance with her.
At once, she was taken back to her final day at the DH-7 compound. She remembered that picture of the heart that had only hours earlier belonged to a living, breathing person. She remembered feeling a fear so deep she’d nearly drowned in it, unable to claw her way back to the surface.
That same fear invaded her now.
As if her heart understood the danger, it pounded rapidly into her chest—too rapidly. Greg might not have to kill her. Her body might just shut down on its own.
If I die, at least I know I died doing the right thing. The noble thing.
And even if no one knows my sacrifice, it won’t matter. This was never about recognition.
Still, Cassidy continued to hold her breath and waited for the details to pop onto the screen. She waited for Greg’s reaction. Waited for the fallout.
“What?” Greg pounded his fist against the table. “What is this? Pictures of the beach? Of sunrise and sunset? Of a dog?”
“Did I get my jump drives mixed up?” This was no time to be smart. Yet Cassidy couldn’t seem to stop herself. And she didn’t have anything better to say at the moment. She wasn’t ready yet to confess.
Greg stormed toward her, anger raging in his eyes. He drew his arm back, his hand in a ball, and then lunged his fist into the side of Cassidy’s face. “I never knew you were such a smart mouth.”
Cassidy’s face throbbed, and stars flashed in her eyes. “You didn’t think I was going to give it up that easily, did you?”
She’d suspected from the moment Greg left that he may have planted a listening device in this place. It had been a brilliant move on his part. Thankfully, Cassidy was a step ahead of him.
She’d known from the moment she got that jump drive just how valuable it was. Even then, she’d come up with a plan to make sure it never got into the wrong hands.
Greg pulled out his gun and aimed it at her. “Where is it?”
“You’re going to have to kill me.”
Courage is not lack of fear. It’s facing your fears.
Right now, Cassidy was staring her fears right in the eye.
Greg turned until his gun pointed at Ryan. “Then I’ll kill him. And after I kill him, I’ll kill your boyfriend and anybody else I can find that you remotely care about.”
Cassidy’s throat went dry. Threaten her? She could handle it. She’d dug her own grave.
But threaten people she cared about? That was an entirely different story.
Greg stepped closer. “You’re going to tell me where that jump drive is. And after you give me that information, you’re going to call your parents.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I have a ransom demand. They either send us money, or you die.” He smiled. “Unfortunately, you’ll die either way.”
His words confirmed what Cassidy already suspected. She was chosen for this job for more than one reason. It wasn’t necessarily her skill. No, it had also been for her parents’ money and influence.
As he stepped away and Cassidy caught his profile, she sucked in a breath.
“You’re Tyron,” she muttered.
He turned toward her, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “It took you a while.”
“You were the DEA agent who was undercover.” Everything clicked in her mind. How had she not seen this earlier?
“That’s right. I’m also the one who sold you out to Raul. I let him know that you hadn’t really killed Samantha.”
“Why would you do that?”
“You were supposed to die that night. Instead, you killed Raul and messed up all our plans.”
Just when Cassidy thought all her hope was gone, the door crashed open.
Chapter Eighteen
With guns drawn, Ty and Mac threw open the door to the old cottage and invaded the space.
Ty held his breath, fully expecting to find Cassidy.
Instead, three teenagers sat on an old couch with beer bottles in one hand and joints in the other.
They all jumped to their feet, sloshing their drinks onto their laps. Their hands flew in the air, and dazed expressions crossed their faces, barely perceptible in the hazy, dark space.
“What in tarnation are you doing here?” Mac asked, lowering his gun.
One guy—probably in his late teens—with long dark dreadlocks, baggy jean shorts, and a ripped white T stepped forward as the group’s leader. “Nothing. We didn’t mean nothing, man. We just needed a place for privacy.”
“Don’t call me man,” Mac said. “Show some respect, and call me chief.”
“Yes, sir . . . chief.” The boy nearly snarled as he said the words.
“So you broke in?” Mac continued.
The boy shrugged, like he didn’t have a worry in the world. “No one lives here. Last time we went to the shore, and the beach patrol showed up. This seemed like a better bet.”
“Do you own this place?”
“No.”
“Then you broke in.”
“Look, man—I mean, sir. I’m sorry,” he said. “We’ll leave. Please just don’t tell my parents.”
Ty’s heart sank. This had seemed like their best lead. But this wasn’t connected to Cassidy’s case at all.
Which meant they were no closer to finding her.
He knew with every second that passed, Cassidy was closer to death. And that wasn’t okay.
Cassidy held her breath as she stared at the splintered door.
Samuel stood in the entry.
Alive.
With a gun in his hand.
Was he here to help . . . or . . .
“Stop what you’re doing and put your hands up,” Samuel growled, looking more rugged than Cassidy had ever seen him with unshaven cheeks and sloppy clothes. “Right now.”
Greg froze, but slowly turned his gun until it faced Samuel.
Who was on whose side?
She wasn’t sure. For a moment, she felt like she was back in the ocean the evening she was snatched. Back to feeling as if she was trying to swim one way while the current pulled her another.
She needed to listen very carefully and watch as things played out over the next few minutes.
“Samuel Stephens.” Ryan’s voice cracked with tension. “How’d you find us?”
“It wasn’t easy.” Samuel gave him a pointed look. “Thanks to you.”
“Don’t listen to him, Cassidy,” Ryan snapped. “He’s working for DH-7. Don’t forget.”
Samuel still held the gun steady, aimed at Greg, daring him to make one wrong move. “That’s not true, Cassidy. You’re a smart girl. You can put the pieces together.”
That was exactly what she was trying to do. But Cassidy didn’t feel especially insightful at the moment. No, her thoughts collided inside her.
Loyalty against knowledge.
Desire against reality.
>
Hope against the sobering truth.
She watched Greg, trying to gauge if he had allegiance to Samuel. Or had Samuel really betrayed him as well?
Nothing was clear.
“Greg and Ryan are both here to try to get the information I sent you.” Samuel’s voice sounded deep and left no room for questions. He was the consummate FBI agent—someone who’d given his life for the job. Someone others had looked up to. Someone who always got the job done.
Could Cassidy trust him now? Were Greg and Ryan really working together?
“Don’t listen to him,” Ryan said. “He’s trying to turn you against me. Look at me. Would I have gotten myself beat-up like this? You know that’s ludicrous.”
“When the stakes are this high, nothing is ludicrous,” Samuel said.
Cassidy’s head pounded harder. Any way she looked at it, either man could be guilty.
And why was Greg being so quiet? Did he not want to let on that he was working for either man?
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Cassidy started. “But somewhere on this path, things went terribly wrong. I thought we were all working for the good of the people we serve. I can see that’s not the case.”
“The very man who’s overseeing the trial over this case is actually the one who’s calling all the shots for the defense,” Samuel said. “I just discovered Ryan’s involvement last week. I started digging a little deeper after my last conversation with you, Cassidy. Ryan here didn’t like that and tried to have me killed.”
“Don’t listen to him, Cassidy.” Ryan struggled against his binds. “He’s just trying to turn you against me. He’s trying to get the evidence you found thrown out.”
But what Samuel said made more sense. His timeline made sense.
Would Ryan really sink this low? Could he possibly be involved with DH-7? He was in charge of overseeing the justice system for citizens in and around Seattle. Would he really compromise himself like this?
“Remember Tango Mango, Cassidy.” Samuel’s gaze flickered to Cassidy, but only for a second. “That was what your friend Lucy’s dad used to call her, right?”
“Right.” Where was he going with this? Why was he bringing up Lucy?
“Ryan’s uncle is the brains behind DH-7,” Samuel continued. “He passed the torch down to Ryan. Ryan’s family is responsible for the murder of your friend.”
A small cry escaped her lips. “No . . .”
Could someone she’d once cared about—Ryan—be responsible for the most devastating loss in her life?
“He’s playing with your head, Cassidy.” Ryan struggled against his ropes again, grunting and twisted to no avail. “You know my family. You know they’d never be involved with something like that.”
“I know your parents. They’re the only ones I’ve ever met. But didn’t your dad say something one time about your mom’s brother being the black sheep of the family? I never asked you about that. I figured it wasn’t my business.”
“He was the black sheep because he decided to pursue a degree in art. He lives in a little apartment with four other creatives. You know my parents. They don’t take things like that seriously. Uncle Rob was a black sheep.”
Who should Cassidy trust? Both of the men made sense. Yet her gut reminded her of what she knew all along.
Movement caught her attention at the corner of her eye.
She turned in time to see Greg aim his gun.
And then she heard a shot fill the air.
Chapter Nineteen
Ty and Mac were still standing outside the small cottage the three potheads had invaded when they heard gunfire in the not-so-far distance.
One glance between Mac and Ty was all it took to show their agreement.
“Let’s go,” Mac said. “I’ll deal with these delinquents at another time.”
They jumped into Mac’s car and took off toward the noise.
“It sounded close.” Blood pounded in Ty’s ears. “Maybe a couple of streets over.”
“This is the area where there are a lot of old houses dating back to the fifties. People who own them might only come a few times a year. We just need to look for one that’s occupied and shouldn’t be.”
They sped that direction. Ty felt ready to crawl out of his skin. He thought he was done facing war when he left the military. Little did he know he’d be facing his biggest battles here on US soil.
The first street yielded nothing—no strange cars, lights, or evidence of the gunfire. Nor did the second.
But on the third street, Mac cut his headlights and rolled to a stop as he neared a house at the end of the lane.
“Will Preston owns that place.” He pointed to a house in the distance. “He only comes for one week a year. And notice there are two cars out front? Well, Will is from Pennsylvania. Neither of those cars have PA plates.”
“Let’s go then.”
Mac opened his door. “Follow my lead. I know Cassidy’s your lady, but we need to be rational here.”
“Of course.” Ty prayed he’d be able to restrain himself because all he wanted to do right now was rush inside that house and see if Cassidy was there. To make sure that gunfire hadn’t been directed at her. Or . . .
He cringed.
He couldn’t finish the thought. Of course the bullet hadn’t hit her.
Please, God. No . . .
But the situation was precarious, at best, and Ty would be a fool not to acknowledge that the outcome of this might not be what he wanted.
He’d known from the moment Cassidy told him her secret that things would get harder before they got easier.
Maybe he hadn’t quite grasped just how much harder, though.
He drew the gun he’d brought—Cassidy’s gun—and tried to prepare himself for what he might find inside.
Each possibility seemed like too much to stomach, though.
Suddenly, he heard something crash. Then crash again.
And then he heard Cassidy shout, “No!”
Mac pushed through the door, his gun drawn. Ty was right behind him.
They both froze at what they saw inside.
Total chaos.
Blood.
And a game of quick draw.
Cassidy flipped the chair behind her and smashed it to the floor. As soon as she did, the ropes around her loosened. Her adrenaline had kicked back in and given her a temporary burst of strength.
Ryan had somehow managed to get his ropes off, as well. How had he done that so quickly? It didn’t matter right now.
The four of them stood there staring at each other, facing off.
Except for Greg.
When he’d pivoted, Samuel had shot him. Blood gushed from his shoulder as he lay on the floor. He’d groaned with pain for a moment before going still.
He wasn’t dead, but he appeared to be unconscious. He’d need medical help. And soon. He was losing too much blood.
“Everyone needs to calm down,” Cassidy muttered.
As soon as she said the words, the door flew open.
Mac and Ty flooded inside.
Her heart turned to honey.
Ty.
He was okay.
And he was here.
Which meant he could be in the line of fire.
The honey instantly hardened.
Ryan grabbed Greg’s gun, pointing it at Samuel, who still held his own gun.
Meanwhile, Mac’s gun was on Samuel and Ty’s on Ryan.
Cassidy remained empty-handed.
“Are you okay, Cassidy?” Ty asked.
She nodded, not daring to move. Not with this much tension in the air. One wrong move, and they could all die.
“Cassidy, you’ve got to believe me.” Ryan moved away from her and took a more secure stance apart from the rest of them. “I’m on your side. Samuel just pulled the trigger on Greg to eliminate him. He knew Greg could implicate him in this investigation.”
“Cassidy, I think you know the truth,” Samuel said. “There’s a r
eason Ryan didn’t call you back. Because he was working for DH-7. Not to mention dating his assistant.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Ryan said. “He wants to turn you against me.”
“Now look here.” Mac’s voice cut through the room, tinged with aggravation. “’I’m the chief around these parts, and I demand that you all put down your weapons. Now.”
No one moved.
“I figured that was too easy,” Mac muttered, scowling at everyone in the room. “We’re going to have to do things the hard way, aren’t we?”
“What’s going on, Cassidy?” Ty asked. “Talk to us.”
Where did she even start? She glanced around at each of the players here. “One of these guys is working for DH-7. More like, DH-7 is working for him. Samuel and Ryan both have motives and evidence to tie them to the group.”
“Who do you think is behind it?” Mac asked.
Cassidy’s thoughts raced through her mind as her gaze bounced back and forth from Ryan to Samuel. They both had motive, means, and opportunity. One wrong call on her part, and this could all end very, very badly.
“It’s hard to say,” she muttered.
“Trust your gut, Cassidy.” Ty’s voice sounded calm and reassuring. “You have good instincts. You always have.”
She loved how much he believed in her.
“Enough of this talk,” Ryan snapped. “I need to get Cassidy out of here. She’s not safe. That’s what I was trying to tell you all along. Samuel probably has backup on the way here now, and then we’ll all be sitting ducks.”
“Ryan is going to kill you once he gets you away from here,” Samuel said. “Greg is working for him. This was all an act, Cassidy.”
Her head pounded.
No, she was overthinking this. Cassidy knew who was guilty. In her gut she did—just like Ty had told her.
But how could she throw out the accusation without someone getting hurt?
In a split second, Ryan’s gun turned toward Ty.
“No!” Cassidy grabbed the first thing she could find.
The seashell paperweight.
She jerked her arm back and threw it across the room.
The rock hit Ryan’s hand, and he dropped the gun.
Deadly Undertow Page 11
