“What the hell is going on?” His lips twisted into a grimace, as if steeling from some kind of pain.
Cassidy took a step back from his angry stance. “I can’t tell you,” she managed. The image of Quinn’s terrified face flooded her mind.
His sharp eyes turned furious.
“I have to go, Bruce,” she said, sounding desperate. “I can explain later.”
“You’re going to explain now.”
Cassidy glanced at the door. Could she outrun him? “Please,” she begged.
His features transformed to a mask of resolve, and the moment he moved, so did Cassidy, but he grabbed her before she made it to the door. “You leave me no choice, Cassidy.” He spun her around and jerked back her wrists. “You’re under arrest.”
“No! You can’t!” she cried, struggling against him. “Bruce! Please!”
Bruce had already shackled one wrist, the sound of the tightening cuffs blaring in her ears.
Cassidy clenched her eyes shut. “They have Quinn.”
Bruce froze behind her. “What did you say?”
Her forehead tapped against the wall. “They want the notebook. It’s the only way.”
Bruce exhaled a hard breath behind her. They stood there for a long moment, Bruce’s hands still pinning her arms back. “Cassidy,” he groaned.
Slowly, he spun her to face him. “You are going to tell me exactly what the hell this is all about. Now.”
Her lips quivered with the emotion she was keeping deep down inside her. She rubbed the place where the one handcuff was still attached, the cold metal too tight. “I have to bring them the notebook by eight o’clock, or…” she couldn’t finish.
“Who, Cassidy?” Bruce said, gripping her shoulders.
Everything was falling apart, her plan, her confidence. By telling Bruce, she would lose control of the rest of it. But she couldn’t save Quinn from a jail cell. She inhaled a steadying breath. “Preston Ford.”
Bruce’s face went blank with shock. “Whoa. That guy?”
“An officer picked me up from that apartment this morning, but instead of taking me home, he took me to Preston Ford’s house.”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of officer?”
“He was dressed like a police officer.” She remembered his name tag. “Officer Nash.”
Bruce ran a hand through his hair and exhaled hard, his cheeks puffing out. “Preston Ford told you he had Quinn?”
“He showed me.” Cassidy shuddered at the memory of Quinn’s scared eyes.
“And you believe him?”
“There was a date and time stamp. It could have been fake, but I don’t know…it’s not like I can take the chance that he’s lying.”
Bruce let his hands fall to his sides. “This is my fault. I was in charge of him. Of both of you.”
“You couldn’t have known there were cops working for Preston Ford.”
“Brad warned us, didn’t he?” Bruce said, his voice tight. “Goddamn.”
“I’m going to Preston’s house. I have a plan.”
“No fucking way,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get through to you, Cassidy? You are not putting yourself in danger like this anymore!”
“I don’t have a choice!”
“There’s always a choice.”
“So, I’m just supposed to turn this over to you so you can screw it up?” she cried. “Don’t you think he’ll be ready to pull the trigger the minute I don’t show up with the notebook?”
“Cassidy,” he barked. “We have the most highly trained professionals in the world. Let us handle this.”
“No,” she said. “I have to go in there. It has to be me.”
Bruce rubbed his forehead.
“I can’t lose him, Bruce.”
“I know,” he said. “But I can’t lose you, either.”
Cassidy wrapped her arms around her middle, the single handcuff crashing into her thighs.
“I have to notify the team,” he said finally.
“No!” she said, imagining a swarm of agents rushing into Preston Ford’s mansion. “Nobody else can know about this. He’s probably watching me right now, Bruce! If he thinks we’re organizing some kind of raid he’ll kill Quinn. I won’t take that risk.”
Bruce sighed hard and stared at the ceiling. “Then we’ll find him first.”
“I already tried that,” she said. “I got his last known cell tower and the radius. But nothing fit.”
“Show me,” Bruce said.
“We don’t have time,” Cassidy said, her voice desperate. “I have to go!”
“This is not a plan, Cassidy!” he said, pacing. “This is a disaster waiting to happen.”
“There’s no time to come up with anything else. I need to do this!”
Bruce checked his watch, then grimaced. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.”
Cassidy stepped from the taxi in front of the imposing house and its matching wall and passed through an ornate metal gate, which opened silently as she approached. Jitters rattled through her stomach and she clenched and unclenched her fists.
Inside the courtyard, ground lights illuminated the white flagstone pathway to the grand entrance. In the far corner of the yard, against the fence, stood a security guard, barely visible in the darkness. She felt his gaze on her as she stepped up to the front door, which was opened by Officer Nash. Cassidy’s heart rammed against her ribs so hard she felt short of breath.
She stepped inside, his thick frame towering over her.
“Arms out,” he said gruffly.
Cassidy grimaced as he quickly frisked her.
He shut the door behind her, then melted into the shadows. Cautiously, her senses on high alert, Cassidy moved through the living room, passing the blank TV screen and silent piano to the sunroom. She stood at the edge of the window, gazing down at the manicured grounds lit up by small lights. Beyond the grounds, the cliff dropped away to reveal the restless Pacific, the lines of swell etched in moonlight. From this vantage, she couldn’t hear the crash of the waves but imagined them smashing into the rocks, sending spray high into the air.
“Dr. Kincaid,” called a voice behind her.
Cassidy spun to see Preston Ford in a dark suit, his salt-and-pepper gray hair slicked back, and his keen eyes taking her in. How long had he been standing there?
“I trust you’ve brought what I asked for?”
Deep breath. “Yes.”
“No trouble from the FBI?”
She shook her head. “But I’m not
