Deadly Undertow Page 12

  Mac fired at him, but Ryan ducked.

  Cassidy dove for the gun on the floor. Her fingers wrapped around the barrel. Before she could grab it, Ryan swooped down also.

  She was too late.

  In one move, Ryan grabbed the gun and Cassidy’s arm. The next thing she knew, the barrel was to her head, and Ryan faced everyone else. Danger pulsated in the room.

  “One move, and I’ll shoot her. You know I mean it.” Even Ryan’s voice sounded different as he said the words. Less cultured, more street smart.

  “Don’t do anything rash,” Ty said. “Let her go, and let’s talk this through.”

  “There’s nothing to talk through. This is it. The end. Put your guns down.”

  No one moved.

  “I said put your guns down!” Ryan fired at the ceiling, his nostrils flaring.

  The sound of the gun rang in Cassidy’s ears until she could hardly hear anything else.

  Samuel, Mac, and Ty lowered their weapons.

  “Now tie them up, Cassidy,” Ryan ordered. “And don’t try anything funny. Start with your boyfriend.”

  Her hands were shaking as she grabbed the very ropes that had bound her earlier. She mouthed “I’m sorry” to Ty as she wrapped the ropes around him.

  “I love you, Cassidy,” he whispered.

  “I love you too.” She tied the rope as hard as she could, knowing Ryan would check it. But she’d also pressed her fingers into Ty’s spine, indicating he should arch his back. That way, when no one was looking, he could slip the ropes off more easily.

  “Move faster!” Ryan ordered.

  “I’m trying to do it right,” Cassidy muttered. “I thought you’d be happy about that.”

  “I won’t be happy until you’re dead and buried. And taking the blame for all of this.”

  Cassidy’s steps slowed. “You think people are going to buy the idea that I was behind all of this?”

  Thunder cracked outside. The storm was getting closer.

  “You even have the tattoo to prove it.” Ryan smiled.

  “You told them to do this?” She touched the lightning bolt behind her ear. Members of DH-7 had drugged her, and when she’d awoken this tattoo had been there.

  “Keep walking!” Ryan growled. “And, yes, of course I did. All of this was planned—including your involvement. We picked you as a pawn.”

  Under the gun, she tied up Samuel and Mac, mouthing sorry to them as well.

  As soon as she was done, Ryan grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Ryan, why would you do this?” Cassidy asked, desperate to get through to him as he dragged her through the woods.

  Water waited on the other side of the tree line. She could hear it. Smell it. Almost taste it.

  It was like the seawater was becoming part of her blood.

  What would Ryan do with her once they hit the water? She’d essentially be trapped with nowhere to go unless she wanted to face stormy waters again.

  Did she really want to know what Ryan had planned?

  “Why would I do this?” Ryan barked. “It’s called a legacy. It’s called justice.”

  “You’re going to leave a legacy as prosecuting attorney. Why this?” More branches hit her in the face. The forest was thick. Damp. And very much alive.

  “There’s no money in that job,” he said, not slowing down. “Overseeing the operations of DH-7? I have more money than I could ever dream about.”

  “And that’s it? Seems like a pretty shallow motive.”

  He scowled. “My uncle was sent to prison, and he was killed there by a member of an opposing gang. People shouldn’t go to prison for drugs. They should have the freedom to do what they want to their own bodies. They aren’t hurting anyone else.”

  The air felt sweltering around them, and sweat covered Cassidy’s skin. In the distance, she could see glowing eyes.

  Frogs.

  They silenced their songs as Ryan and Cassidy got closer.

  “You know drugs are the gateway to other crimes,” Cassidy continued, her lungs still rattling from her near-death experience in the ocean earlier. “People lose their inhibitions. Half the people police pick up are high or drunk. That’s why most drugs are illegal because people are a danger to others while under the influence.”

  “You grew up with everything. You have no room to talk about any of this.”

  “Is that why I was chosen for this assignment?” she asked. “Is it because of my parents?”

  “You have no idea, do you?”

  “No idea about what?”

  He scoffed. “It was your dad who put my uncle away for life—and that fact ultimately cost my uncle his life since he was killed by a rival gang in prison.”

  “My dad? What did he have to do with any of this?”

  “Your dad provided funding for some special forensic tests that proved my uncle was involved in three shootings.”

  “He did?” Why hadn’t she ever heard about this?

  “He did. I guess when your friend Lucy died, your dad wanted to do something to bring her justice. He began giving a good portion of money to the police—money that helped fund things they otherwise couldn’t afford.”

  A surge of pride welled in her. “I see.”

  “I’m still planning on milking the fact that your parents are filthy rich as much as I can. I should be able to get several million out of your folks. I’ll feed that money back into the organization, so we can produce more drugs and make more money. It will be the ultimate irony—and true justice.”

  “You’re deplorable.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “How is taking me going to help you?”

  “You’re my leverage.”

  The trees cleared and, just as Cassidy suspected, dark water lurked on the other side. Around the water were marsh grasses on one side and old, weather-worn stumps on the other.

  And a boat floated just beyond that. A motorboat. One that would be perfect for escape. Except for the incoming storm.

  “What are you doing with me?” Cassidy’s voice cracked.

  For the first time, Cassidy realized that Ryan just might get away with this. He might put her on that boat and get out of town before anyone could stop him.

  If the storm didn’t take them.

  She could feel the incoming front in the air. The leaves clattered. The seagrass whispered. The waves roared their warning across the seascape. The tip of the island was narrow here, and the water on either side connected during storms, leaving a marshy, swamp-like environment.

  Cassidy could not get on that boat with Ryan.

  Using her last ounce of strength, she turned around and jammed her elbow into Ryan’s throat. The distraction was just enough to make him lose focus. The two wrestled with his gun.

  Footsteps sounded behind them.

  Ryan heard them.

  Shoved her.

  Cassidy lost her balance and stumbled toward the ground. Her rib cage hit one of the old stumps sticking out from murky water.

  Pain throbbed through her. The breath left her lungs, and stars spun in her head.

  “Ryan . . .” she muttered.

  She glanced over and saw him running for his boat. There was too much distance between him and Samuel and Ty. He might actually get away.

  She heard water sloshing. A motor starting.

  She tried to sit up. To chase him. But her rib cage pulsated with pain.

  Samuel appeared in her vision, going after Ryan. He’d be too late.

  Another set of footsteps stopped near her.

  Ty appeared. “Cassidy . . .”

  Lightning struck in the distance, and a brisk wind swept over the landscape. The first smattering of rain felt like bullets on her skin.

  “I need to get you out of here,” Ty muttered.

  She didn’t have the strength to argue.

  She was safe now, she realized.

  For the moment, at least.

>   And she’d take whatever moments she could get.

  Ty stared down at Cassidy, his heart beating out of control as he saw the agony on her face. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but her eyes weren’t focused. Pain invaded their depths, and a haze consumed her features. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Did Ryan get away?”

  Ty glanced behind him and saw Samuel stop at the waterline. He heard the motor of a boat speeding away, just as lightning lit the sky above them. “It looks like it.”

  “He had a backup plan,” Cassidy muttered.

  “You’re probably not surprised, are you?”

  “No. Not at all. Where’s Mac?”

  “Keeping an eye on Greg,” Ty said. “We didn’t want him to get away, in case he regains consciousness.”

  “Smart thinking.”

  Ty studied her face, frowning. “I’m going to have to pick you up, Cassidy. It’s going to hurt.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  Bracing himself, he scooped his arms under Cassidy and slowly stood. Cassidy’s face scrunched with pain. She probably had a bruised rib. Maybe a cracked one. He wasn’t sure.

  From the looks of it, she could hardly catch her breath.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Ty promised her.

  “Thanks for finding me, Ty.” Her voice sounded stretched thin as she rested her head against his chest.”

  “I was going to find you or die trying.”

  Samuel joined them as Ty carried Cassidy through the forest. Leaves still slapped them—the landscape was too thick to avoid it. Bugs still swarmed around them. Rain still fell.

  But it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that Ty and Cassidy were together.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you, Samuel,” Cassidy muttered.

  “I’m sure Ryan was convincing,” Samuel said. “I’m just sorry it all played out like this.”

  They reached the cabin, and Samuel opened the door. As soon as they stepped inside, Ty knew something was wrong.

  Mac stood in the room, scowling and rubbing the back of his head.

  “What happened?” Samuel asked.

  “I looked away from Greg—but only for a second,” Mac explained. “He must have grabbed the scalpel from that tray and shoved it into his own neck.”

  “Is he . . .” Cassidy’s voice cracked.

  “He’s dead.” Mac frowned again.

  Greg had been their only way of getting information. Of course, the man would rather die than live with the consequences of his choices.

  Samuel shook his head, a mixture of sadness and dull realization spreading over his features. “Greg, Greg, Greg. What did you get yourself into?”

  That was the question of the hour.

  Ty gently lowered Cassidy onto the couch. Her face twisted with discomfort. But she was alive, and, with some TLC, she should be okay.

  Samuel let out a long breath and turned toward her. “We have a lot to talk about, Cassidy.”

  “I know we do.”

  Ty nodded. “First, we need to get our story together. We’ve got to keep parts of this quiet if we want to protect Cassidy’s identity—which we do. Authorities will ask a lot of questions.”

  “Then let’s talk,” Mac said. “Because the FBI is on their way. We’ve got a dead body, an abduction, and a killer on the loose. We’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Five hours later—five long hours—Samuel and Cassidy slipped away from the swarms of law enforcement officials to talk. It was still raining outside. Thundering. Lightning. Blowing. But the sun was coming up, and the promise of a new day—albeit a gray, soggy one—lingered on the horizon.

  Her ribs still hurt—like crazy. Doc Clemson had come, and, when Cassidy had refused to go to the clinic, he’d preliminarily diagnosed her with a bruised rib. He’d bandaged her midsection and told her to take pain meds for the next few days. He’d also checked her lungs, since she was still coughing after inhaling the water in the ocean, and gave her a list of symptoms to watch out for—symptoms that should send her straight to the hospital.

  Ty waited inside with Mac while the FBI questioned them. They’d taken jurisdiction over the scene—and it was just as well. Samuel could control more of the narrative this way.

  The scent of fresh rain rose around them. The mugginess of the air mingled with the cool breeze of the storm.

  If circumstances were different, Cassidy might enjoy this moment. But, while she rejoiced that Samuel was actually who he claimed to be, the fact remained that Ryan was still out there.

  Cassidy’s adrenaline had long since worn off, and all she wanted to do was take a long shower and climb into bed.

  But as she realized she was about to learn the truth, her blood pumped harder.

  Wasn’t this what she wanted? What she needed to know?

  On the other hand, certainly there would be talk about what came next. Would Samuel tell her to leave Lantern Beach? To start over with a new identity? Cassidy wasn’t ready to face that possibility.

  “What happened, Samuel?” Cassidy started, unable to wait any longer.

  He ran a hand over his aging face. He was in his early fifties, but life had worn him down. Gave him more wrinkles than necessary. More gray hairs. More world weariness.

  At least he still had a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair, a fit build, and a sharp mind.

  “Last time we talked, you mentioned that there was probably a puppet master, correct?” he started.

  “Right.”

  “I started looking into it. About that time, someone approached me. That PI that your parents hired. Ricky Ernest.”

  “Okay.”

  “He’d traced you back to DH-7 and figured out you went undercover. He also said he talked to Ryan, and Ryan had hinted he was worried about you and desperate to find you. That didn’t ring true to me because Ryan knew exactly what happened.”

  “Right.”

  “I began to trace Ryan’s history—specifically his uncle. He was heavy into the drug and gang scene. The further I kept on going back, the more connections I began to see with DH-7. So I went to talk to Ryan.”

  “That couldn’t have gone well.”

  “It didn’t. But before I talked to him, I talked to another county attorney about the case. He said the information obtained by you while undercover was unreliable. Apparently, that’s what Ryan had told him. But it was the first I’d heard about.”

  “Ryan was going to sink this case, wasn’t he?” Cassidy pulled the blanket around her closer, not necessarily cold but chilled nonetheless. Another agent pulled up and handed them both cups of coffee. Greedily, Cassidy drank hers, desperate for a boost.

  “You know it. The only other copy of the evidence was the one I had—and the one I sent to you.” Samuel shook his head, his eyes distant as if remembering that day. “Anyway, I went to have a talk with him. He tried to kill me, but I got away. That’s when he made up the story about me being an insider for DH-7.”

  “What about Greg?”

  “Greg was working undercover for the DEA. But I knew he was the only one who could have told Ryan some of the details I knew. I had no idea he was secretly working off the books for Ryan.”

  Cassidy stared into the distance, trying to let everything sink in. It was going to take a while.

  “Ryan’s not going to disappear and let this go,” Cassidy muttered.

  Samuel narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean? There’s nowhere for him to go. I’ll send out a bulletin to the FBI, and there will be a manhunt for him.”

  “He has resources, Samuel. And he has to kill me in order to move forward. He’s not finished. And, by that account, everyone I care about is going to be a target.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance. “What do you suggest we do?”

  Cassidy looked into the distance. Felt the wind against her face. Tried to breathe deeply—but her lungs hurt too badly.

  Greatness is measured by the oppos
ition you’ve overcome.

  Lucy’s Day-at-a-Glance.

  Cassidy had overcome a lot. But she wasn’t done yet. Perhaps her greatest opposition was yet to come.

  “I have an idea I want to run past you,” Cassidy started. “It’s risky, but I think it just might work and end this once and for all.”

  For the next thirty minutes, Cassidy and Samuel talked on the rickety porch as the storm raged around them. They’d hashed out the details of what they needed to do next.

  With the plan in place, Cassidy now had to break the news to Ty. She knew he wouldn’t take the update well. But she had to let him know anyway.

  By the time the FBI had finally released Ty from questioning, the sun had come out but was well hidden behind the storm clouds still around them. There in the same spot where she and Samuel had talked, Cassidy turned to Ty. She nursed a new cup of coffee. Her hair, tangled from seawater, was plastered to her neck and face.

  Every time she took a breath, she inhaled the scent of swamp water. The puddles she’d fallen into smelled so strong and pungent she feared flies would start swarming around her.

  She still wanted that shower. Maybe even a nap and a warm breakfast and a good dose of quiet time with Jesus.

  Mostly, she wanted to stay with Ty forever.

  He reached for her but stopped. As much as she’d like to rest in his arms, she couldn’t.

  Her ribs hurt way too much.

  The good news was that Ty didn’t seem to care how she looked.

  Or smelled.

  Ty squeezed her arm instead. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Cassidy. But what’s going on? You look like you have something to say.”

  Dread grew in Cassidy’s gut with each minute. “I wish I could say this was over, but it’s not.”

  “What’s your next plan of action?”

  She pleaded with him with her gaze. “I can’t tell you the details. But I need you to trust me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that Samuel and I figured out a way to end this once and for all.”

  He stared at her. Blinked. Waited. “What can I do?”

  And this was the hard part. “I have to do this alone.”