Deadly Undertow Read online

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ryan said.

  Cassidy glanced up. Studied Ryan a moment. He didn’t look like the consummate professional she once knew. No, he wore ratty jeans and a black T-shirt. Even his voice seemed to change from a cultured politician to a street-smart kid. The transformation amazed her, and almost made Cassidy forget her mission here.

  On her other side, another person appeared.

  Ricky Ernest. The PI her parents had hired. Someone she’d briefly dated.

  He no longer looked like the preppy boy who played football for the college team. No, time hadn’t been good to him. He’d probably gained thirty pounds. His hairline was receding. His skin looked looser, baggier.

  What had happened to him in the years since they’d last spoken?

  She didn’t have time to find out now, nor did she care to hear his story. She had no compassion for anyone who worked for Ryan.

  “Et tu, Brute?” she muttered.

  Ricky shrugged. “The paycheck was too good to pass up.”

  Cassidy didn’t have time to argue with him. “People could come through here at any minute. You really didn’t think out this plan, did you?”

  Ryan smiled, and Cassidy knew there was more to this.

  “Actually, we blocked the one and only entrance to this garage with a wayward ice cream truck.” Ryan smiled more broadly. “I thought you might appreciate the sentiment.”

  “So that’s what the noise is.” Clever. Unfortunately clever. “But there’s still the stairway.”

  “You don’t think we thought of that too? We knew you were coming here. This is where you park to get into the building. We did fear that Samuel could drop you off, but we had a plan for that also. We covered all the bases. We jimmied each of the doors in the stairway. No one is getting up or down.”

  The blood left her face. This had been a bad idea.

  She wished for a moment that she could turn back time. That she could talk herself out of this. That she might have just gone into hiding again.

  “Why are you guys doing this?” Her voice shook as she asked the question.

  “Shut up!” Ryan barked, aiming his gun at Samuel. “One wrong move, and your buddy dies. I’m pretty much over you right now, Cady. Actually, I have been for a long time.”

  Hardly able to breathe, she listened to Ryan, not daring to argue. Her heart pounded so loudly, she felt sure everyone could hear it. Why had she ever thought this was a good idea? That she was going to get away with it?

  All she could do right now was try to buy more time.

  Cassidy inched away. “You had all those women killed. The ones who looked like me. You put a bounty on my head.”

  Ryan scowled. “I can’t let you ruin everything.”

  “And you chose me on purpose, didn’t you?” Cassidy continued, still inching backward. “Because you want money from my father. You want revenge.”

  “You know it. And we want more than money and revenge. We want to bend his ear. We need his influence.”

  “All for some stupid drug?”

  “That drug is making us millions. Between money and being elected into office, the world is at my fingertips.” Ryan raised his gun. “And don’t move another inch! You don’t think I see you?”

  She froze, yet her blood seemed to boil.

  “I hope it’s all worth it when your soul burns in hell.” Her voice sounded more biting than she’d intended.

  “Oh, it will be.” Ryan smiled in a way that reminded her of the soulless look Raul always had in his eyes.

  How could Cassidy not have seen this earlier? The clues had been right in front of her face. Yet Ryan had pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, not just Cassidy’s. The people who worked with him in the prosecuting attorney’s office. The public who’d elected him into office. Even Cassidy’s family.

  “You’re not doing that interview,” Ryan continued. “I don’t know what you were thinking, but there’s no way you’re going on air. Besides, no one will believe you.”

  “Because everyone thinks you’re a saint?”

  That evil gleam returned to his eyes. “Everyone knows I’m a saint. The savior to the city—soon the state. I’ll move on from there. You’re going to have an unfortunate confrontation with someone from DH-7. The fall guy is already in place. And I’ve already engineered some emails between you and Samuel that will debunk anything you’ve already told this news anchor.”

  “What are those emails going to say?” Samuel asked through gritted teeth. He still stood, but one hand grasped his shoulder where blood seeped out.

  “It will make it clear that Cady didn’t like living in her dad’s shadow so she covertly joined DH-7 and you discovered it. It will detail how she’s been behind several of the crimes committed. Believe me when I say these emails are convincing.”

  Cassidy’s lip twitched upward in disgust. “You’re sick and twisted, I’ll give you that. I would have never guessed you to be the leader of DH-7. And to think you’re the one who’s supposedly prosecuting them. What a joke.”

  “You’re talking too much. We need to get this over with.” Ryan raised his gun.

  She swallowed hard. “You’re going to shoot me?”

  “It’s the only way to end this. Sorry, babe.”

  “You really think you’re going to get away with this?” Cassidy said. “That there aren’t security cameras?”

  “We’ve already taken care of those. I’ll walk away, and no one will ever know what happened.”

  “You’ve always been clever.”

  He raised his gun. “Now, let’s get this over with.”

  This was a bad idea, she realized. Cassidy should have thought it through more.

  But now it was too late. Entirely too late.

  Ty stared at the tracking program on his laptop as Mac drove down the road. Mac had managed to trace the phone number that Ty had called earlier, and they were able to see in real time where the device was.

  However, the program had gone down last night, leaving Mac and Ty unable to do anything but wait. They’d taken turns, one sleeping while the other watched the computer. Finally, at five a.m., it came back online.

  And it was just as Ty feared.

  Whoever owned that phone was now right outside the TV station where Cassidy was supposed to go on the air.

  “We’re almost there,” Mac said, speeding around cars.

  But traffic was heavy. It was rush hour.

  Ty wanted to climb from the truck and race toward the station himself. But he knew that wouldn’t get him there any faster.

  Finally, they reached the parking garage.

  “It looks like he’s in there,” Ty said, staring at the screen.

  Mac jerked to a stop at the entryway. An ice cream truck was there, music blaring. On the other side was a police car, and a bewildered-looking officer inspected the vehicle.

  Both of them had effectively blocked the entrance.

  “We need to find another way.” Mac pulled over to the side of the road and put his truck in park. “I know I’m not supposed to park here, and I’ll probably get towed and fined. But I’m doing it anyway.”

  Ty didn’t argue. He jumped out and ran toward the parking garage. When he got to a side door and pulled it, the door didn’t budge. “What . . . ?”

  Mac tried also, to no avail. “Someone must have jammed it.”

  Wasting no more time, Ty ran to the cement barrier that separated the first level from the outside world. He hurdled it. Mac climbed over behind him.

  “This body isn’t what it used to be,” he muttered.

  Ty glanced around, looking for a sign of anything suspicious. He saw nothing.

  Mac put a finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?”

  Ty listened. It sounded like someone arguing. Above them.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  He darted to the stairway and pulled the door there. It was also jammed.

  The bad feeling in his gut gre
w stronger.

  Someone had planned this.

  “We’re going to have to run up these levels,” Mac said.

  “Let’s not waste any more time.” Ty darted toward the next level.

  It was empty.

  His muscles tightened, and his pulse pounded as he continued upward.

  The third level was empty also.

  And the fourth.

  But the voices were louder. He had to be almost there.

  Now, let’s get this over with, someone said in the distance.

  Ty’s pulse heightened.

  He paused as he rounded the corner.

  Ryan had a gun to someone’s head. A woman with dark hair.

  He squinted.

  No, that was . . . Cassidy?

  Samuel stood not far from her, holding his bleeding shoulder.

  Ryan’s sidekick heard them and turned his gun toward Ty.

  “One more step and I’ll shoot,” the man yelled.

  Ty stopped and raised his hands.

  His gaze went to Cassidy. Her eyes widened with surprise, just as her face paled.

  She wasn’t expecting to see him.

  And it appeared Ty was too late.

  Mac was just far enough behind him that he wouldn’t be much help.

  “You should have never gone public with this,” Ryan said, venom dripping from his words.

  “You left me no choice,” Cassidy said.

  “No, now I’m leaving you no choice.”

  Cassidy looked over at Ty, and she mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  As her last word slipped out, Ryan pulled the trigger.

  Blood covered her chest near her heart.

  And she fell to the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A sound left Ty’s lips, a noise from deep in his gut like nothing he’d ever heard before. A cry. A scream. A yell. He didn’t know which.

  Nausea pooled in his gut.

  Men in FBI vests flooded the area. Ty had no idea where they’d come from. Right now, he didn’t care.

  “Help me!” Ryan yelled. “That woman tried to kill me. My bodyguard shot her. He had no choice.”

  Ty darted toward the scene, but an FBI agent grabbed him. Held him back.

  Ty couldn’t pull his eyes away from Cassidy’s limp body.

  She laid on the filthy pavement. Blood continued to cover her chest. Growing.

  And she wasn’t moving.

  Two other FBI agents grabbed Ryan and Ricky. Both of them still rambled, trying to sound like victims.

  More commotion sounded behind him. He didn’t even care what it was. From the periphery of his vision, he saw a camera crew bust through a door in the distance and rush inside, filming all of this. They were trailed by Deanna Mars, the anchor of BNN News.

  She screamed when she saw Cassidy, and an FBI agent caught the woman as her legs buckled.

  Samuel knelt beside Cassidy, still holding his bloody shoulder. He put his finger to her neck. Waited. Frowned.

  His gaze met Ty’s, and he shook his head.

  Mac put his arm around him. “I’m sorry, Ty.”

  Ty’s eyes went to Ryan, and he started to lunge for him. Mac and the FBI agent held him back.

  “I need to see her for myself.”

  Samuel rose, grief etched on his face. “There will be time for that later. Right now, we’ve got to preserve this crime scene.”

  “Cassidy . . .”

  Samuel locked gazes with him. “I’m sorry, Ty. There are a few things Cassidy wanted me to explain to you in case this happened. But we’ll need to go somewhere private.”

  As Ty stood there in the garage, the ache remained in his heart. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Cassidy. He heard her muttering that she was sorry.

  All the dreams he had for them . . . they dissipated like the morning fog and left him feeling parched. Lifeless. Empty.

  It didn’t seem real.

  Why would Cassidy have put herself in that situation? She was smarter than that.

  Did she feel like she didn’t have a choice? Like the only way out was to confront this head on?

  None of it made sense.

  Mac’s hand came down on his back. “I’m really sorry, Ty.”

  “It’s going to take a while for me to comprehend this.” His eyes filled with tears as the ache in his chest grew.

  The coroner carried Cassidy away on a gurney.

  The pain in his heart pierced him over and over again.

  This couldn’t have just happened. It couldn’t have. It just wasn’t possible.

  “I’d like to take you somewhere to talk privately,” Samuel said. He’d been bandaged up. Even though there was still blood on his shirt and jacket—and he looked terrible—paramedics had deemed him okay.

  Ty nodded, ready to get out of there and away from this craziness.

  “The news is already reporting what happened,” Samuel said as they walked toward his car.

  “Did they report that Cassidy had died?”

  “They reported a casualty, but they won’t release her name until family has been notified.”

  “What about Ryan?”

  “He’s been arrested,” Samuel said. “Cassidy was wearing a wire. Ryan will be going away for a long time.”

  “Was that her end game?” Ty asked.

  “You could say that.”

  They climbed into Samuel’s car, and another FBI agent slid behind the wheel. Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the local FBI field office. Samuel led them down a maze of hallways and into a small room with a table and several chairs around it.

  “First, I want to let you know how brave Cassidy is—a true hero, even if she never gets the recognition.”

  More images of Ty’s time in the Middle East filled him. He’d given this same talk to the families of his fallen comrades.

  A dull ache spread over his heart.

  “Why would she have done this?” Ty asked. “I just don’t understand. She’s smarter than this. She had to know what she was setting herself up for.”

  Samuel’s lips pulled downward. “You’re right. She did.”

  Ty stared at him. “What does that mean?”

  Samuel nodded toward the door. The next instant, it opened.

  And Cassidy stepped through.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tears welled in Cassidy’s eyes when she saw Ty sitting there at the table, his face ashen with grief.

  He stood, emotions flashing through his gaze. Grief. Confusion. Joy.

  Without wasting any more time, she flew into his arms and held him so tight she could hardly breathe. Her rib cage ached. Her chest hurt from where the bullet had hit her bullet-proof vest.

  And she didn’t care how much pain she was in.

  “You weren’t supposed to be there,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Cassidy . . . you’re alive.” The gut-wrenching relief in his voice made a new round of tears fill her eyes.

  She pulled back so she could look at his face, see his gaze, express with her eyes the things her words could never say.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I had to be certain everyone really believed I was dead.”

  “That’s what you said right before Ryan shot you.” His gaze flickered as he studied her, as he searched for answers.

  “Maybe we should sit down.”

  “I’ll give you two a minute,” Samuel said.

  Cassidy sat down beside Ty—close to him. She never wanted to be far away again. Never wanted to see that kind of trauma in his gaze.

  “Maybe you should start at the beginning,” Ty said. “Because I obviously have a lot to comprehend right now.”

  She swallowed hard and glanced at her hands, trying to find the words. Everything seemed surreal and overwhelming and . . . almost like an out-of-body experience, in some ways.

  “I didn’t want to run for the rest of my life, Ty,” she started. “I knew I needed to do something to put an end to all of this. Otherwise, Ryan was g
oing to kill me before the trial ever started.”

  He nodded and waited for her to continue.

  “I also knew whatever my plan was, I needed it to take place far away from Lantern Beach. I didn’t want to ever lead anyone back there. That’s why I came to Atlanta. It was far enough away.”

  “I can understand that.”

  She grabbed his hand and squeezed, wishing she never had to let go. Maybe after today, she wouldn’t have to.

  She licked her lips and grabbed a remote. She turned the TV on where a report was playing. Deanna reported on Ryan’s arrest. On Cady’s death.

  Which meant her parents had been updated.

  “As far as the world knows, Cady Matthews is dead,” she said.

  Realization spread across his face. “Which means you’re free to live as Cassidy Livingston.”

  She smiled at his words. “That’s right.”

  “On Lantern Beach?”

  “If everything stays according to plan, no one should ever know I was Cady Matthews.”

  “What about the law enforcement who showed up at the scene at the cottage? Where Greg died?”

  “It was limited to a pool of about six FBI agents. Samuel will feed them the story we want them to have and swear them to secrecy on the rest.”

  “What about the trial?”

  “I was wearing a wire, so I recorded everything Ryan said,” she shared. “With the leader of DH-7 behind bars, the information that I stole from the gang’s headquarters now in the right hands, and Raul dead, DH-7 is expected to fracture and disappear.”

  Ty leaned closer. “But Cassidy, I saw you get shot.”

  She rolled her shoulder, still feeling the impact of the bullet. She’d be sore for at least a week. “I was wearing a vest, and I put a fake blood packet beneath my shirt. I knew as soon as it was punctured, it would look like I’d been shot. I figured it would all go down at the news station, which would mean the camera crews would be close by to record everything. They got an anonymous tip.”

  “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

  She shrugged, another ache reminding her of what she’d done. “I didn’t have much time. I only knew that faking my death was the only way out of this. I also knew I had to get the truth out there. That’s why I went to the news station and why I wore the wire.”