Exposing Ethan (Cassidy Kincaid Mystery Book 4) Page 8

  Once in bed, she tried the deep breathing exercises that Jay, her grief counselor, had taught her. She began to feel more settled, but sleep still did not come. She turned to her fallback of creating a to-do list. But the many tasks waiting for her once she left San Francisco kept piling up, creating a tower so big she began to feel it sway under its own weight, and the idea of it falling on her wouldn’t let go. In her dreams, this is actually what happened. She was running and running but the toppling tower never got any farther away, and when it landed on her it broke like a wave and she woke, gasping, expecting to be soaking wet.

  When her alarm woke her at six a.m. she groaned. Her head felt dull and her eye sockets ached. A shower only marginally improved her outlook. Quinn’s door was still ajar, meaning he hadn’t come home. Her phone showed no messages or texts from him.

  Good for him, Emily had said.

  Had Quinn finally met someone he liked for longer than a few days? Though she was careful not to pry, to her knowledge, Quinn had never stayed over at a girl’s.

  Nobody will ever keep me from you, sis.

  The empty kitchen felt lifeless without him. She realized that she wouldn’t see him before Bruce picked her up. Not wanting to disturb him, she scrawled a note on the back of an envelope alerting him of her change in plans and to please, please text her when he got home.

  I won’t let them use him, she thought as she added coffee to his stovetop espresso maker.

  When Bruce’s text alerted his presence thirty minutes later, she dumped her half-finished bowl of cereal in the sink and slipped into her shoes.

  Bruce’s SUV idled just outside the exit, its pale exhaust drifting into the still morning air.

  “Good morning,” he said as she slid into the passenger seat.

  “Morning,” she replied, buckling her seat belt. Only after did she look at him, hoping for reassurance, or some kind of warmth, or for him to tease her, even. But there was only the firm set of his jaw and the quick, dark eyes.

  Cassidy sucked her lower lip between her teeth.

  “I wasn’t sure if you would want more coffee,” he said, nodding to the empty console. “We can stop.”

  “No, that’s okay,” Cassidy said as Bruce pulled away from the curb.

  All of her questions pushed to the surface at once, but she held them back, knowing Bruce would only tell her that Special Agent Harris would explain everything.

  The drive passed in silence, with only the hum of the engine moving through the gears as a distraction.

  “Did I do something wrong?” she finally worked up the courage to ask.

  He eyed her sharply. “No, why would you think that?”

  Because you’re acting weird, she wanted to say. “Because it feels like I’m being punished.”

  Bruce shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He leaned back, his lips tightening. “That’s probably my fault.”

  “Your fault?”

  “I’m kind of fighting a battle inside my head.” He glanced at her. “I want to nail these guys. They are doing horrible, awful things, Cassidy. But I am not okay with putting you in danger to achieve that.”

  “And Special Agent Harris is?”

  “She says she’s evaluated the risks. If you cooperate, this could be a huge break for us.”

  Cassidy tried to coax a breath into her tight throat. “So, I have a choice?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Okay,” Cassidy said with relief.

  Once inside the building, they signed in and Bruce led her down the hall to the same conference room they had used the previous day. Moments later, Special Agent Harris stepped into the room in a yellow blouse and gray suit, her hair slicked back into a power bun and carrying a large three-ring binder. Behind her, Special Agent Santiago followed, dressed in a white dress shirt, no tie, no jacket, his gun holster and weapon on full display and carrying a white paper cup wrapped in a brown sleeve.

  “Good morning, Dr. Kincaid,” Special Agent Harris said as she settled in the chair across from her, setting the binder to her right. “Special Agent Keolani has given you some precursory details of our request, correct?”

  Cassidy glanced at Bruce, then nodded.

  “Bo Min is a person of interest for several reasons.” She paused to clasp her hands together on the table. “His interest in you and your brother’s business makes this an opportunity we are keen to pursue.”

  Her severe blue eyes didn’t flinch. Cassidy shifted in her chair.

  Special Agent Santiago removed the lid of his coffee to add a packet of creamer. He stirred it, then locked eyes with Cassidy. “We think it’s possible, based on what we know about his activities, that he may be looking for prospects to launder money,” he said. “He seems to trust you, so we’d like to let that play out.”

  Cassidy realized she was sitting on her hands, and slowly slid them out, but with nothing for them to do, her anxiety spiked. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “You’ll call him and arrange for a meeting,” Special Agent Harris said. “We’ll be right here to walk you through it,” she added. Although if this was supposed to calm her, it didn’t.

  “Then when you meet, you’ll wear a wire,” Special Agent Santiago said.

  Next to her, she heard Bruce’s soft groan of protest, and risked a glance at him, but his face was a mask of restraint, his eyes barely meeting hers.

  “All we have to do is get him engaged in some kind of illegal activity,” Special Agent Harris said. “Once we have that, we can try to flip him.”

  “What if he won’t?” Cassidy asked. “He’ll know I set him up.” She pictured Bo’s round face tightening with rage. He was big enough to be able to grab her, to hurt her.

  “We will do our part to prevent that from happening.”

  Cassidy tried to draft off of Special Agent Harris’s confidence. “I don’t have to, though,” she said. “Right?”

  “No, Cassidy, you don’t have to do anything,” Bruce said.

  A long silence passed in which Cassidy’s stomach did a slow, nauseating roll.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Special Agent Santiago nod. But Special Agent Harris was a picture of stillness, of focus. It reminded Cassidy of a dog fixating on a threat the moment before attacking.

  “We’ll make sure you’re completely protected,” Special Agent Santiago continued, undeterred. “We’ll be nearby, ready to move if necessary. We have several locations to propose for the meeting, all of them secure.”

  Cassidy clenched the edge of her seat, her pulse tapping painfully into her temples.

  “By agreeing to become a cooperating witness, we have authorization to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” she asked. She was beginning to feel trapped, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  “From additional security all the way to placing you in witness protection.”

  Cassidy’s already tight throat clamped shut. “You’re kidding, right?” she managed. “I’m about to begin my career at the University of Washington. I have graduate students to mentor, lectures to give, a life.” A life I’ve worked very hard for.

  “We understand,” Special Agent Harris said.

  Cassidy stared at her in disbelief. “Sorry, but no,” she finally said. “I will not give up my life, my career, for this.”

  “We doubt very much that it will get to that level,” Special Agent Harris said. “I just want you to know that we have every tool available to keep you safe.”

  Cassidy tried to imagine starting her life somewhere new, completely detached from her work, her plans, her friends.

  From Quinn.

  Knives of fear jabbed at her from all sides. They really want this, she thought. What am I going to do?

  “What if we prioritize Pete’s murder?” Special Agent Harris said.

  Cassidy’s thumping heart dropped down, down, down, all the way into the center of the earth. “What?” she said, her voice a whispe
r.

  “I can assign Bruce a team,” Special Agent Harris said. “We already have some promising leads.”

  She was vaguely aware of Bruce’s conflicted expression, of the soft sound he made from the back of his throat.

  “Dear God,” Cassidy breathed, feeling the walls close in on her. Could they really do this to her? “Are you saying that unless I cooperate, you won’t prioritize it?”

  But Special Agent Harris didn’t reply, and the tension between them sparked like a lit fuse.

  “We’re not saying that at all,” Special Agent Santiago said from the side.

  Cassidy tried to make sense of this, but she needed space, air…

  “We have a preliminary report from an accident in Sacramento, and another in Portland. They have similar qualities to Pete’s and Lars’.”

  “So, you believe me? That they’re related?”

  “It’s definitely something we’re investigating.”

  “But only if I cooperate,” Cassidy said, her fingers clamping so hard on the chair they ached.

  The room filled with a silence so loud it felt pressurized, like her ears might pop.

  One little meeting to bring Pete justice. She closed her eyes, trying to connect to the inner part of her mind that might give her the answer. But everything felt dark and hollow.

  “What about Quinn, will he have to be at the meeting?” she asked as her mind circled back to the practical—her usual default.

  “Yes,” Special Agent Harris said, her tone decisive.

  Cassidy pushed back from her chair. “No!” she said, glaring, her voice shaking. “No way.”

  Special Agent Harris seemed completely unflustered by her sudden outburst. “You both will be completely safe.”

  “How can you possibly promise me that?” Cassidy cried, knowing she sounded hysterical but unable to control the pitch of her voice. “I can’t put Quinn in jeopardy like that! It’s one thing for me, I don’t live here. You’re lying to me if you think you can protect him forever.”

  She wondered if they were about to offer Quinn witness protection, too, and gasped in anguish. No, she thought, I can’t let them do this to us. I can’t live a life separated from Quinn. I can’t live with myself knowing I caused him to lose everything.

  “Turning Bo would be a huge pivot for us,” Special Agent Harris said firmly. “We can bring them all down. Then you and Quinn will be safe forever.”

  Cassidy leaned back against the wall to support her shaky legs. “What if he refuses?”

  “We’ve already asked him,” Special Agent Harris said, her nostrils flaring.

  Cassidy crumpled against the wall. “What? When?”

  “Last night,” Special Agent Santiago said.

  Special Agent Harris steepled her fingers. “He’s agreed.”

  Eleven

  Cassidy fled to the door leading to the back of the building and speed-dialed Quinn.

  “Why would you agree to do this?” Cassidy barked at him. It wasn’t safe! She wouldn’t tolerate him being in danger!

  “Good morning to you, too,” he said, sounding groggy.

  Cassidy paced the length of the building, her fear ramping up with every step.

  “Because I want to get these bastards, okay?” Quinn finally said after a tight breath. “Because I want you to be safe, once and for all.”

  Cassidy pinched her forehead. “What if something goes wrong?”

  “We have to trust them, Cass.”

  The still, warm air seared her lungs. Cassidy squinted through the trees separating the back of the school building from what looked like a strip mall. “I’m not sure who to trust anymore.”

  “You can trust Bruce,” he said. “Can’t you?”

  Cassidy scuffed the gritty pavement with the toe of her shoe. “I don’t think he wants to do this.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “No, but you should have seen the look on his face.”

  “It’s no secret that he feels protective of you.”

  Cassidy shook her head. Thinking about what Bruce may or may not feel was clouding her thoughts, twisting her emotions. Bruce was a good friend who had forgiven her many mistakes. An ally. The idea of him wanting to protect her made her stomach wobble like Jell-O.

  “But he can’t possibly guarantee that something won’t go wrong,” she said, wrapping her free hand around her middle. “I mean…witness protection? There’s no way I can start over, alone, without my career, without you.”

  “That’s just a worst-case scenario. It won’t come to that.”

  Cassidy inhaled a tight gasp but the curtain of darkness closed over her eyes anyway.

  “This time, we’ll be in it together,” he added.

  She saw herself gripping Quinn’s hand while someone from the shadows leveled a gun at them. “Is that supposed to reassure me?” she managed, her voice high and shaky—not her own.

  “C’mon, Cass, let’s do this. Let’s bring Pete the justice he deserves.”

  Her nose stung with the sudden onset of tears. Had Special Agent Harris made Quinn the same promise?

  “The agent picking me up is here,” he said. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  After ending the call, she pressed herself into the shade of the building and closed her eyes. Should she have listened to Bruce after all and never gone into that warehouse? Where would Izzy be now if she hadn’t? What about the girl they rescued that night, the one who hid in a closet? She thought about the other girls in that warehouse, currently living a life of hell.

  If I do this, they can be free.

  The image of her brother Reeve with his arm around Jade in front of that church in Nicaragua floated into her mind. Saving her had cost him his life. Would she do the same for Pete?

  “Cassidy?” Bruce’s voice said.

  She opened her eyes to see him wearing a pained expression. He reached for her and she gave in, stepping into his embrace. Overcome with gratitude for his strength, she let the last of her tears fall.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said some time later.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  Cassidy inhaled a slow breath. “She’s right, though. If I don’t, I won’t be safe.”

  “We have other ways to get these guys. This isn’t the only way.”

  “But it’s faster, right?”

  She felt Bruce’s chest expand with a breath. “Yeah, it’s faster. Sometimes breaks come suddenly, like this.”

  “I’m scared about Quinn,” she said. “He’s all I have. What if something happens to him?”

  “We’ll be right there,” he said, stepping back, his expression steadying her. “We’ll be close by, listening to everything. We won’t take any chances.”

  “Promise?” she asked as a fresh supply of tears spilled onto her cheeks.

  His gaze turned fierce. “I promise.”

  She remembered his decision to flee San Juan del Sur to protect her, and his surprise rescue from Mel. Would he be able to pull off the same heroics this time if things went wrong?

  Back inside the conference room, Special Agent Harris stood with her back against the far wall, with Special Agent Santiago seated, slowly flipping through the giant binder, one hand scrubbing his forehead.

  In the moment before Special Agent Harris noticed Cassidy enter the room, she caught the look of anxiety tightening her features, but then it was gone, replaced by the bulldog look she was so good at.

  “Okay,” Cassidy said, glancing quickly at Bruce, who continued to look grim. “I’ll do it.”

  Special Agent Harris moved forward, her eyes flashing with victory. “All right, Dr. Kincaid. We’ll walk you through everything you need, and then we’ll make the call.”

  “Now?” Cassidy said, her voice cracking.

  Special Agent Harris checked her watch. “By the time we give you a briefing, we should have the D.A.’s approval, so, yes.”

  I have to stay here all mor
ning? Cassidy thought with frustration.

  “We’ll give you a break before we call,” Special Agent Santiago said as he flipped open a laptop and plugged it into the AV cord in the middle of the table.

  A knock on the door accompanied by, “The brother’s here,” from a voice outside.

  “Enter,” Special Agent Harris said.

  The door opened and Quinn stepped through. Cassidy jumped up and he pulled her into a firm hug. She inhaled the scent of his freshly showered skin mixed with his laundry detergent. His presence both calmed and terrified her.

  She stepped back and let the task force agents shake Quinn’s hand. When it came time for Bruce’s turn, he gripped Quinn’s hand and locked eyes with her brother. “It’s great to meet you finally,” he said. “Sorry it’s not under more pleasant circumstances.”

  Quinn gave a quick smile. “Maybe those days are coming,” he replied.

  Bruce’s eyes lightened. “I hope so.”

  Special Agent Santiago pulled up a chair for Quinn next to Cassidy, and everyone settled in.

  Under the table, Cassidy reached for Quinn’s hand. He gave hers a squeeze.

  “Okay, here’s what we know,” Special Agent Santiago said, tapping a key on his laptop. On the far wall, a faded image appeared.

  Bruce stood and turned off the light, then moved his chair from where it would have been in the way of the slide show to Cassidy’s side.

  The image sharpened and she recognized Bo’s face immediately. Only he wasn’t smiling.

  “Bo Min. Works at the port by day but is connected to several businesses we believe are involved in money laundering. Grew up in Chinatown, parents run several restaurants there. His record is peppered with illegal activity. Car theft, street racing, possession of stolen goods. All pretty minor, actually, considering the crew he hangs out with.

  “Two years ago, a red flag came up. He started raking in a lot more money than the average port employee. We think it’s because he was coerced into working for the Organization. He plays several key roles. One is he’s able to use his knowledge at the port to fast-track their shipments through customs, and he uses his restaurant connections to find businesses they can use for money laundering.” He advanced the slide to a new image, this one of Bo exiting an alley, his eyes gazing slyly to the side. “Also, his father has a gambling problem.”