Deadly Undertow

by Christy Barritt

  Mac leaned back and laced his fingers together in thought. “Did you try and call Cassidy?”

  Ty nodded slowly. “She must have left her phone here. It goes right to voice mail.”

  Mac grunted again. “But she asked you to stay? To let her go?”

  “That’s right. But I don’t know if Cassidy knows what she’s walking into.” Ty paused and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do. I want to help her. But I also want to respect her wishes.”

  “But that guy said he was going to kill her?”

  “That’s right.” The fire blazed hotter at the thought of anyone hurting his girl.

  After a moment of quiet contemplation, Mac’s gaze met his. “You should go. Even if you betray her trust, at least she’ll be alive. Once you get there, you can always hang back if it seems like she’s got a handle on things.”

  Ty released his breath, relieved to hear that Mac agreed with him. He’d been hoping for some confirmation. He didn’t need to hear it. He could make the decision on his own.

  But his emotions were so involved that he didn’t want to risk doing something that might put Cassidy in danger.

  “Thanks, Mac.” Ty stood. “I just needed some feedback.”

  Mac stood also and grabbed his keys. “When do we leave?”

  “You’re going?” Had Ty heard him correctly.

  “Of course. I think of Cassidy as a daughter.”

  “It would be nice to have someone as backup.”

  Mac nodded toward the door and took a step forward. “Then let’s hit the road.”

  Cassidy stared out the window of her hotel room, watching as the rain drizzled down the thick, expansive window.

  Her gaze focused on a lone drop that hit the glass and then ran downward.

  She felt like that drop. Isolated. Alone. Going down.

  Her thoughts were over the top, and Cassidy knew it. She did. But that didn’t stop her contemplation.

  She kept replaying, over and over again, what had happened yesterday.

  Cassidy had come close to losing her life. Close to losing everything.

  Her ribs still ached. The bandage around her midsection was tight and made it hard to breathe. Her eye was swollen. Her lip was busted. One of her teeth hurt also, probably from being punched.

  “How are you this morning?” Samuel emerged from his bedroom, already dressed and ready to go for the day.

  He sat in the chair across from her, his concerned eyes on her. He’d shaved and looked more like the Samuel Cassidy knew: more professional and less rough.

  “As to be expected.”

  “You ready to do this?” Samuel straightened the legs of his khaki pants, but his intense gaze remained on her.

  Ending this was all she could think about. “Hopefully Ryan will follow our breadcrumbs and show up here.”

  And then they would stop all this once and for all.

  “The plan is risky,” Samuel said.

  Cassidy knew that more than anyone. “It’s the only way.”

  Samuel nodded slowly. “As long as you’re sure. It’s your life on the line.”

  “Greater love has no man than to lay down his life.”

  “Or her life.”

  Cassidy smiled sadly and stood. “Or hers. Let me get ready. Then let’s go.”

  Cassidy donned a long brown wig. Professional attire. She’d covered up her injuries with some makeup.

  And then she looked in the mirror.

  The ghost of someone Cassidy once knew stared back.

  Cady Matthews.

  She blanched at the image. So put together. Even a glimmer of that driven, ambitious woman seemed to reappear in her gaze.

  But this wasn’t who Cassidy—Cady—was anymore. No, the last few months had changed her—for the better.

  But, for now, this look and donning her old self was necessary.

  She and Samuel headed outside on the busy city streets of downtown Atlanta. At eleven o’clock, she stepped into Jitters, a coffee shop that smelled every bit like a coffee shop should. Not just like coffee, but like hazelnut and cinnamon and chocolate.

  The scent made her miss Seattle for a minute.

  Her gaze traveled the room before stopping on a familiar face.

  Deanna Mars. A member of Cassidy’s college sorority and current news anchor for BNN, a national cable news network. The woman looked the same. Neat blonde hair. Perfectly applied makeup. A trim figure that gave a nod to her former women’s volleyball champion status.

  Meeting Deanna was risky. But Cassidy hoped it would be worth it.

  “Cady?” Deanna stood from the table.

  Cassidy leaned forward and gave her old friend an air kiss. “It’s me.”

  “It’s been a long time. You look great.”

  Cassidy sat across from her. “You too. A news anchor, huh? Impressive. I loved that interview you did with the British prime minister several months ago.”

  Deanna beamed. “Thanks. I feel incredibly lucky. I’m married with two kids, and I’m working my dream job.”

  “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.”

  A waitress came and brought them coffee. Deanna explained that she’d ordered for Cassidy and hoped she still liked her coffee with a splash of cream and two sugars.

  She did.

  Deanna’s expression morphed from friendly to serious, and the air around them seemed to change. “You said you had something serious to share with me. What’s going on?”

  Cassidy took a deep breath. This was it. Her plan. Part of it, at least.

  And once she set this in motion, there was no turning back.

  “I need to tell you something that just might be one of the biggest news stories of your career,” Cassidy started.

  And then she told Deanna. About being undercover. About Ryan Samson. About the hit on her life. She left out the information about Lantern Beach and her time there, however.

  There were some things Deanna shouldn’t know.

  “Those are some pretty big accusations,” Deanna said when Cassidy had finished. Her coffee appeared to be forgotten, and her instincts as a reporter were raging—salivating—for a good story. DH-7 was one of the hottest topics in the country.

  “I know.” Cassidy played with the handle of her own coffee mug, praying this risk paid off.

  “You really want to come forward with what you told me?”

  Do I? Cassidy already knew the answer. “I do. I’ve been in hiding for a while. But I’ll only do the interview tomorrow, and I’ll only do it live.”

  Deanna blanched. “That doesn’t give me much time.”

  “I know. But if I don’t do it tomorrow, I might die before I can tell my story.”

  Deana let out a breath. “This is serious, isn’t it? Like life-or-death serious?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Deanna leaned back and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I have to talk to my boss. I wish it was that simple and easy, but there’s a process we have to go through before things go on the air. We have to fact-check.”

  “I totally understand that, and I have evidence that will make it easier for you. But my offer still stands as it is, and you don’t get the information until I get a confirmation. I can only do it tomorrow. After that, I’ll either be dead or I’ll be somewhere off-grid and unreachable. I’m sorry to put you in this position.”

  “I get it. I do. I’ll get back in touch with you later today, okay?”

  Cassidy released the breath that she’d been holding. “That sounds great. Thank you.”

  She was going public with this story. And, if her plan worked, Ryan would be going away for life.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Cassidy got the call that evening. The call from Deanna. Her old friend had called several times before that, begging Cassidy to change her timeline and her terms.

  She’d refused.

  But finally Deanna said her producer had approved the story and the timeline.
>
  From the safety of her hotel room, Cassidy did a pre-interview. She repeated her story to Deanna, but this time it was recorded. She offered the information she knew, and emailed Deanna copies of key documents from the jump drive that Ryan was so desperate to get his hands on.

  Even if Ryan ended up killing her, he’d still be sunk.

  And that was exactly what Cassidy needed to know.

  She hung up after confirming the details for tomorrow’s meeting.

  “It looks like everything is falling into place,” Samuel told her.

  Cassidy leaned back on the couch and nodded. “I guess it is.”

  “It’s still not too late to back out. To run. To hide again. Maybe on a Caribbean island this time.”

  “There’s only one island for me.” The one where Ty was. She’d told him once that anywhere with him felt like home, and she’d meant those words.

  “Okay then. We should go over our plan. I’ve already talked to the FBI. We have four agents who will be working with us to ensure you’re safe.”

  “Got it.”

  “We also need to talk about backup plans. By now, Ryan probably knows where you are. BNN is advertising your upcoming interview. So this is how it’s going to go down tomorrow . . .” Samuel started. “If we miss one of these details, our whole plan could be ruined.”

  Ty had driven most of the way to Atlanta, stopping only for gas, food, and the restroom. Mac had grabbed a few minutes of shut-eye as they traveled. At eleven p.m., they stopped on the outskirts of town.

  Now that they were close, Ty’s adrenaline had surged again.

  He wanted to find Cassidy. He wanted answers. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy.

  Instead, he and Mac were now grabbing some dinner at an overpriced joint attached to the lobby of their hotel.

  Normally, Ty might enjoy the burger and fries. But right now nothing tasted good.

  Mac absently munched on a french fry and stared at his phone. “He’s here. In Atlanta.”

  Ty nodded. Mac had been able to trace the phone number of the man Ty had talked to—the one who said he was going to kill Cassidy. The phone number itself was associated with a track phone, so they didn’t know who was on the other end of the line. No doubt it was someone Ryan had hired to do his dirty work.

  “At least we’re still on track,” Ty said. “However, that doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “We know Cassidy is here. We just don’t know where. You’re right—I can’t track her number, which means she was smart enough to take the battery out.”

  “The question is: have Ryan and his sidekick found her?”

  “That is the question of the hour,” Mac said. “We have no way of knowing that yet. I’d say you could call this guy back, but by now he’s got to know that wasn’t Ryan he talked to.”

  “And if he was smart, he didn’t mention that fact to Ryan.”

  A bad feeling loomed in Ty’s gut.

  He didn’t like this. Not at all.

  Mac nudged him and nodded toward a TV playing in the corner of the restaurant. “Listen.”

  The newscaster’s voice sounded across the room. “And stay tuned tomorrow for an exclusive interview with Cady Matthews, a woman who went undercover with one of the world’s most dangerous gangs.”

  Ty sucked in a breath and stood, moving closer so he could hear better.

  “Matthews claims to have evidence that can bring the whole organization down—and she has surprising information on who is calling the shots,” the female anchor said. “Tune in tomorrow morning at ten to hear her story.”

  “What are you thinking, Cassidy?” Ty muttered.

  Was that her plan? To go live with her story? Did she think that would keep her alive?

  No, it would just expose her.

  They didn’t have time to eat, Ty realized. They needed to find Cassidy.

  Now.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  23 Weeks Earlier

  Back up in the room she shared with three other women, Cady stared at the space she’d called home for the past two months.

  She wouldn’t miss this one bit.

  She only had a brief window in which she could leave. Raul was gone on whatever trip he was taking out of town. His core group of minions were brokering some kind of deal twenty minutes away. Everyone else was either high or partying.

  Now was the time to do this.

  She’d even called Samuel and told him about her plan. He was going to send someone to pick her up at the end of the street. At this point, it didn’t matter anymore if someone saw her get into the police car. No, all that mattered was that she got away.

  Because when they discovered she was the narc, she’d be dead.

  It would be her heart that Raul was showing people as an example next time.

  She shuddered at the thought of it.

  Cady didn’t have any more time to waste.

  The good news was that she knew, no matter what happened, she’d done the right thing. Her life might never be normal again. No, this had irreversibly changed her. It showed her a side of life she never wanted to experience again.

  And now it was time to go.

  She shut the door behind her.

  The hallway was empty.

  Good.

  She left everything behind—even her purse. There was nothing from this life that she wanted to take with her. Nothing at all.

  Keeping her steps even, she started down the corridor.

  Still no one.

  She went into the stairway.

  Empty.

  And hurried down three flights.

  At the bottom, she paused.

  She was almost home free now. Almost to the point of walking away and never looking back. Just a few more steps, and she’d be there.

  A burst of joy exploded in her heart.

  She stepped from the stairwell.

  The building seemed eerily quiet.

  Which made this the perfect time.

  Without looking back, she pushed through the squeaky doorway and stepped into the alley outside.

  She was done with this assignment, once and for all.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Today’s Goals: Finish this. Make sure Ryan gets what he deserves. Put this all behind me.

  Cassidy stared at herself in the mirror again and adjusted the business suit she wore.

  She was going to do this interview with Deanna. It was the only way out.

  “It’s not too late to turn back,” Samuel said.

  “I know. But I’m in this. All the way.”

  Samuel offered a curt nod, as if he knew he wouldn’t change her mind and had resigned himself to that fact. “Then let’s go. We’ll review things on the way.”

  That was right. It was a live interview. Well-advertised.

  Ryan should be crawling out of his skin right about now.

  Good.

  Before they reached the door of the hotel room, Cassidy grabbed Samuel’s arm. There was something she needed to say to him before they left. Before the first domino was tapped, sending the rest into an unstoppable cascade.

  “Samuel, if this goes wrong, there are things I need you to tell Ty.”

  “Things won’t go wrong.”

  She pressed her lips together, knowing he was being optimistic, but that the situation was serious. “Please, Samuel. I need you to promise me.”

  He stared at her a moment before nodding. “Okay. I promise. I’ll tell him what our plan was. But we’ve got to believe this is going to work.”

  “Thank you.” She felt better knowing that if things went terribly wrong, at least Ty would have some closure.

  Samuel drove her to the station, and they pulled into the parking garage beside a high-rise building in downtown Atlanta.

  Cassidy’s hands trembled as she got out of the car.

  Please, Lord. I need Your grace right now. More than ever. Your favor. Your courage. And anything else You can give me.

  As she
closed her door, she heard a sound in the distance and paused.

  It sounded like an . . . ice cream truck.

  And it was playing “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

  Hearing it made her think of Elsa, and she smiled.

  “Probably just a food truck,” Samuel muttered.

  Of course. Cassidy’s ice cream truck hadn’t followed her here to Atlanta. Cassidy didn’t share any kind of intrinsic connection with the truck, even if it sometimes felt like she did.

  Samuel put a hand on her elbow, jarring her back to reality. Cassidy glanced around, trying not to show her nerves, even though she felt like they were screaming for all to see and hear.

  This was it.

  The moment it all boiled down to. The moment that would make or break her.

  “We’re a little early,” Cassidy muttered.

  “I know. Traffic wasn’t as heavy as I anticipated.”

  “I hope it doesn’t mess anything up.”

  “Let’s get to the stairway and get you over to the station,” Samuel said. “You should have let me drop you off.”

  She couldn’t risk being alone. Not even for a moment. Even if the FBI agents were on backup.

  They hurried across the cement floor, their footsteps echoing in the hollow space.

  She felt jumpier than a tick as she walked. Her head pounded in anticipation of what was about to happen.

  She only hoped her plan worked.

  Please, Lord . . .

  “You should have let him drop you off, Cady,” someone said in the distance. “I thought you’d be smarter than this.”

  She froze, and the hair on her arms rose.

  Before she could react, Samuel reached for his gun.

  It was too late.

  A bullet rushed through the air, hitting Samuel in the arm. His gun flew out of his hands.

  Cassidy gasped. “Samuel! Are you okay?”

  His face squeezed with pain.

  Cassidy’s gaze traveled across the pavement. Samuel’s gun. Just as she lunged toward the weapon, Ryan stepped forward. His foot covered it.