Cassidy knew it then. Something was wrong.
“This dead-ends,” she said, as they continued down a curving road lined with trees, sculpted hedges, and increasingly opulent homes. Was he just confused? She had been in this area only a few times but knew the road didn’t go through. To connect to Outer Sunset, they should have continued West on Geary, then turned south on the 101, or if he really wanted the scenic route, he could have followed El Camino then looped west on Clement.
“I know,” Officer Nash replied.
Panic filled her mind. “Where are you taking me?”
Twenty-Three
Cassidy lunged for the door, but her fingertips met smooth plastic. She banged on the mesh, but it didn’t even flex.
“Let me out!” she screamed, trying to unbuckle her seat belt.
Officer Nash turned into a gated driveway that swung open to let him pass.
“Where are we? What’s going on?” Cassidy said, taking in the tall, rectangular mansion that would have looked at home on a hillside in Tuscany. A flagstone driveway followed the side of the giant house that was accented by a lush, green lawn, green plants, and flanked on the far side of the entryway by tall, windblown trees.
“Answer me!” Cassidy cried as Officer Nash parked facing a stone wall inset with a nearly invisible garage door.
Officer Nash stepped out of the car, then opened her door. “You have an appointment, Dr. Kincaid.” He paused there, one hand resting on his weapon. She got the impression he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.
“The hell I do!” she said, scrambling away from him.
With one meaty hand he reached in and grabbed her arm. Though her rational brain knew there was no use in resisting, her legs and arms went wild anyway.
“Quit it or I’ll get out the cuffs,” he said, easily dragging her from the back of the car.
On her feet now, with his hand wrapped around her bicep, she quickly assessed her escape options. The ten-foot-high gate they had driven through had closed and the house was surrounded by an equally high wall.
“You’ll be free to go once it’s over,” Officer Nash said, as if reading her intentions.
“Once what’s over?” she replied, trying to loosen his grip on her.
“You wouldn’t want me to ruin the surprise, now, would you?” Officer Nash frisked her with his free hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked, jerking away from his touch.
“Precaution,” he grunted, then escorted her around the giant house to an arched entryway made of glass and metal so ornate and stylish it could have been stolen from a museum. She briefly wondered if it had.
Officer Nash released her arm to usher her inside. Her feet reacted before her brain could process and she took off running, aiming for a tree at the edge of the property. If she could climb it, it was a simple drop over the side of the fence.
But Officer Nash was on her. “You’re not gonna get what you want by acting like that,” he said, hauling her back to the door.
“I don’t want anything from you!” she shouted, ignoring his stoic expression.
“Keep an open mind,” Officer Nash said as they entered the building.
What did they have that she wanted? A prickle erupted at the back of her neck.
Officer Nash led her through the door to what would have been an impressive entrance if she cared: bright red Italian tiled floor, sweeping staircase arcing up and out of sight, an antique vase on a stand. The house smelled of the sea air and fresh pine. Dread pooled in her stomach as Officer Nash led her to the right, through a sitting room with a white leather couch, floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, giant TV, and a grand piano to a sunroom, the wall made entirely of glass. For half a second, she let herself be impressed by what was likely San Francisco’s most stunning view of the ocean. They were well west of the Golden Gate Bridge, so the near-180-degree panorama included the black cliffs across the channel and the westernmost point extending into the gray-blue Pacific.
Directly below her, a square of green lawn ended at a wall that separated the property from a steep drop to a crescent of caramel-colored sand. A guard glanced up at her from the corner of the yard, then looked away, his eyes scanning the grounds for threats.
Cassidy worked a breath into her lungs while her mind tried to come to terms with her situation. Officer Nash seemed to sense this shift, and let go of her arm. She heard him retreat.
Cassidy watched the waves pulse against the corner of the shoreline visible from this angle, noticing that the swell Bo predicted had arrived. She sifted through everything that had happened in the past few days, wondering what she had missed. Who was behind this? What did they have that she wanted?
Footsteps tapped the shiny wood floor and Cassidy spun to see a tall man in a white linen suit, his pale blue eyes dancing.
“Dr. Kincaid,” Preston Ford said, grinning. “So glad you could make it.”
All of the gears grinding in her mind came to a halt.
“Can I offer you anything? Tea? Whiskey?” He said this last word with a wink that ignited a sudden anger. If he knew she liked whiskey, what else did he know about her?
“No, thank you,” she said, her voice thick.
He turned to face the windows. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” He clasped his hands behind him and rocked forward on his feet.
“What’s going on?” she asked. Was he just one of those freaky rich people who were obsessed with security? “Why did you bring me here? I would have come on my own if you had just asked.” She looked for Officer Nash and found him lurking twenty feet away, his eyes sharp.
“Because the situation was deteriorating.”
Cassidy shook her head, but it brought no clarity. “Is this about Izzy? Is she okay?”
Mr. Ford pursed his lips, as if thinking. “No, Dr. Kincaid, this is about you and the mess you
