“Then it was that tease sister of his.”
Cassidy held in a gasp as they passed by her door.
“Go ahead and talk smack about whoever you want, but you did this to yourself,” Special Agent Santiago said in a surprisingly calm voice, but the authority behind it seemed to have the desired effect because Bo said nothing more. Moments later, a door closed.
Cassidy released a trembling sigh and slumped against the wall.
The wait for information went on for what felt like hours, with Cassidy starting to think she was going to need to carve a hole in the wall with one of the chair legs so she could escape.
She imagined Special Agent Harris turning up the heat in Bo’s room to make him uncomfortable and more eager to talk. Did they have a room with two-way glass installed so they could observe him like the cops on TV?
She forced slow, measured breaths into her lungs, her sanity being sucked from her drop by drop.
A knock, then Bruce slipped into the room, his face tense.
“What’s wrong?” she said as her heart slammed into her ribs so hard she felt it reverberate up her throat. “Is it Quinn? Is he okay?”
Bruce nodded. “Quinn’s okay. He did great.”
She folded forward in relief. “Do you know how hard it’s been just sitting here?” she asked, powerless to stop her anger.
“You know we wouldn’t have asked you to stay if we didn’t think it was necessary,” he said.
Cassidy ignored this attempt to placate her. “Where is he?”
“Being briefed downtown.”
“Can I go there?” she asked, her voice reaching an octave she didn’t know it could.
Bruce shook his head. “He’ll be released in the morning, probably. It has to look legit.”
“Something’s wrong, though, isn’t it?” she asked as her stomach swung free, taking her breath with it.
He scrubbed his forehead, his face still tense. “Yes,” he said, finally looking at her, his intelligent eyes sharp with concern. “Brad Sawyer is dead.”
Twenty-One
Cassidy blinked away her sudden tears. “How?”
“Drowned.”
Cassidy tried to breathe but the air was suddenly too thick. She saw Brad floating face down…
“Coast Guard found his boat two days ago, and a couple of guys out fishing found him this morning.”
Her mind did somersaults. “Do you think he was killed?”
Bruce’s mouth twitched. “It’s possible.”
Cassidy’s knees buckled. “It’s my fault!”
Bruce covered the distance between them. “We don’t know that.”
“It’s obvious,” Cassidy said, squeezing her eyes shut. “I got him killed, didn’t I?”
“It’s possible that he fell overboard,” Bruce said.
“You don’t believe that.”
“I’m waiting on the autopsy, and for the forensics from the boat, but we may never really know for sure.”
“If they killed him, Bruce, that means they know we were there.” The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.
“Maybe, maybe not. Brad could have published something that drew attention to himself, gave him away. Or maybe his past caught up with him and his death has nothing to do with our meeting.”
“Or maybe they know what he told us.”
Bruce cursed softly, rubbing his forehead. “That’s why we have to take precautions, Cassidy, starting now.”
Cassidy realized that this was the source of his real worry. “What does that mean?”
“We’re going to move you to a safe place. You’ll have protection.” He must have seen the way Cassidy’s eyes widened because he quickly added, “Only until we have the situation under control.”
“How long will that take?” she cried.
Bruce scolded her with his eyes. Cassidy realized she had forgotten about Bo and the interrogation going on down the hall.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Cassidy groaned.
“Cassidy, it’s for your protection. We don’t know if this presents a threat for you or not.”
“So, I get locked away while these assholes run free? How is that fair?”
“It’s not, but it’s what I need to do to keep you safe.” His firm voice might have been a brick wall.
“What about Quinn? Do you think he’s in danger, too?”
“He’ll be in custody all night, so he’s safe for now. After that, we may assign him a protection unit.”
“Like bodyguards?” she asked, suddenly awed by the swiftness and power by which the task force operated.
“In a way, yes, but in the background. They’ll keep watch on his place, and Drift.”
“Whereas I get the safe room with locks on all the doors?”
Bruce huffed out a sigh. “First of all, we need to separate you two, so yeah, that’s partly why, but Quinn isn’t directly connected to Brad, at least that’s what we’ve concluded. Having him go about his normal routine might be the best thing, with the support of our team.”
“Will I at least get to see him before I’m shut away?”
“No,” he said, his eyes looking pained. “I’m sorry.”
Her thoughts glided back in time to the meeting in Birch Bay and the sound of Brad’s boat accelerating from the dock. Had he fallen overboard, or had someone pushed him? If he was murdered, it was because of me. Why couldn’t she have left it alone?
Bruce took hold of her shoulders. “Once we get Bo to cooperate, the case is going to open up.”
Cassidy tried to invite the warmth of his touch into her body, but it refused, and she looked away.
A knock at the door startled them both. Bruce released her just as the door opened and Special Agent Harris leaned into the room. “Keolani,” she said in a brisk voice, her eyes sharp as diamonds. “We’re conferencing in room A. We have an urgent situation at the port.”
“What’s happened?” Bruce asked. “Did he break?”
Special Agent Harris’s expression revealed nothing, but she flicked a warning glance in Cassidy’s direction.
Cassidy watched the transformation in Bruce; his spine straightened, and he practically snapped his heels together in obedience.
“Be right there,” he said.
Special Agent Harris slipped from the room, her heels drumming the hallway.
“Someone will be here soon to take you,” Bruce said, turning back to her. “I’ll arrange to get your laptop, some clothes. Anything else?”
“My contacts solution and glasses,” Cassidy said, thinking fast.
Bruce hesitated, as if unsure how
