She remembered Dutch confessing to being a past member of Saxon’s motorcycle club, the Voyagers, a one-percent club engaging in activities they felt allowed them to be above the law.
Meaning that Dutch couldn’t be an agent. Did that make him some kind of informant, like the cop shows she’d seen on TV? So, what did the FBI want him to do? Could they force him to do it?
“…and if you refuse, we’ll be forced to subpoena your phone records,” Special Agent Harris added, pulling Cassidy back to the room.
Cassidy glanced at Bruce, trying to get her bearings. She wondered if she had the right to get up and storm off like Dutch, leaving a trail of curses.
“What about Izzy’s father?”
Special Agent Harris frowned.
“Preston Ford?” she added.
To her left, she heard Special Agent Santiago curse softly.
For an instant, Cassidy saw Special Agent Harris’s stern mask falter. “I don’t care who her father is, we need her testimony. Wouldn’t you like to see Saxon behind bars, Dr. Kincaid? Before he tries something like this again?”
“Of course,” Cassidy replied. “It’s just…she’s been through so much.” She thought of the X-rated video she had made with Cody and William, who would get dragged into this, too. “Her mom is dying,” she continued.
“That’s very unfortunate, but I’m afraid it won’t stop us.”
Cassidy closed her eyes.
“It’s for your safety, too,” Bruce said. “Let’s get him off the streets before he crawls out of whatever hole he’s hiding in right now.”
A shiver shot down her spine. This exact fear had kept her from answering Bruce’s calls for the past week and had driven her to Hawaii; the disbelief regarding Pete’s death propelling her forward like rocket fuel. Acting on instinct, the only thing that had made sense was to continue her plans: fly to Hawaii, conduct her research, then carry on with her life. But she knew she would spend the rest of her days watching over her shoulder.
This isn’t over, Saxon had said.
As soon as Saxon came out of hiding, would he come for her, too?
“Okay,” Cassidy said. “I’ll tell you what I can.”
Hours later, Cassidy followed Bruce to his car, the early afternoon sunlight baking the top of her head. Her armpits felt clammy with sweat and her knotted stomach ached.
“You okay?” Bruce asked as he unlocked the doors.
Cassidy paused, taking in the gray concrete and dry, brown grass. Above her, a California flag flapped lazily. “I don’t know,” she said. “That was…intense.”
Bruce shot her a look of kindness. “Harris is a hardass, but she’s good.”
“I believe it,” she replied, sinking into the passenger seat.
Bruce got in and closed his door. Moments later they were accelerating down the residential street, passing tall trees and grand but tightly packed homes.
“What did they want Dutch to do?”
Bruce shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m a recent addition to this case, remember? But even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you.”
“Right,” Cassidy said. They passed a playground packed with children, their shrieks and chatter filling the air. She watched legs pump and arms swing. Three girls played a game of jump rope.
“What is going to happen to Brad’s information?” she asked. The idea that even one of these children could end up in the hands of someone like Saxon or a demented doctor made her feel sick.
“I’ll enter it into the log, and someone will follow up.”
“Do you think there’s any truth to it?” she asked as the playground faded into the background.
“It’s possible. But it’s also messy,” he said with a grimace. “Dirty cops?” He shook his head. “It’s always a possibility.”
“You mean someone tipped them off?”
Bruce nodded.
Cassidy thought again to Pete’s notebook on the conference room table. Did one of the unfamiliar names in it identify a dirty cop? She stayed silent, afraid Bruce would only chastise her for meddling.
“So, big plans tonight?” Bruce asked, giving her a sideways look.
Reluctantly, she shifted gears, putting her endless questions aside, for now. “Probably drag Quinn out for a surf, then grab fish tacos before he has to go in to work.” She also needed to deal with her car. If she decided to scrap it, she would need to go to Shasta to gather the items she had left inside. She spent a few moments running through her options—from flying to Shasta, to renting a car and driving there, to putting the project off until some later date.
“Am I safe here?” she asked him.
She watched Bruce’s eyes tighten behind his sunglasses. “What do you mean, exactly?”
“Saxon,” she said in a shaky breath. “I mean, he’s gone underground, but will he come back?”
“We have alerts set up,” he said. “Meanwhile we’re going to bust this case open.”
“How? It feels huge, like one discovery just leads to another.”
“I’ll probably catch hell for telling you this, but we have someone inside who we think can be flipped.”
Cassidy felt the word echo through her mind.
“Turned,” Bruce explained. “We provide protection from prosecution in exchange for information.”
“Is that how they got Dutch?”
“Probably.”
“So, he was involved somehow?” She could easily picture Dutch as a criminal, but not if it meant forcing kids into the sex trade.
“No idea, and again, I couldn’t tell you if I knew.”
Cassidy bit back her groan.
“You need to let us handle this from now on, okay?” he said, his eyes narrowing. “We have a dozen highly trained agents working on this. We have undercover agents, informants like Dutch, plus some solid leads.”
“Like Izzy,” Cassidy said sadly.
“Hopefully,” Bruce replied as they reached the edge of Golden Gate Park.
“I’m worried about Cody and William. They didn’t sign up to be FBI witnesses.”
“They should have thought about that a little sooner.”
Cassidy wondered if all of this would somehow come back to the University and the geology program. “What about Preston Ford? He’s a pretty powerful guy. Could he stop Special Agent Harris?”
“No,” Bruce snorted.
