"You look handsome," she said. "Nice suit."
"Thanks. You look exhausted. What's going on? I've been going crazy here."
"I'm sorry I didn't get back to you before now. There was a lot to do. We went through the co-op, and then I just did a sweep of the ballroom and reviewed security plans for tonight."
"What did you find at the co-op?" he asked, more interested in that than the gala.
"Evidence of poisons and bomb-making materials. It looked like at least one or more of them had slept there the night before."
"Any leads on possible targets?"
"There were blueprints for this hotel and security information for the Carlson Tower. There was a list of twelve other companies that seemed like potential targets. Across the top was written: The Dirty Dozen."
"You did get a lot of information."
"I'm just not sure it wasn't a setup. It almost seemed purposeful in the way they'd been left out. They could have been trying to steer us in the wrong direction or just pointing us to targets that are already obvious." She paused, tucking her hair behind her ear. "There was also a really weird photo album."
His stomach twisted. "Vinnie mentioned a photo album that Lauren put together right as they were divorcing. He said she seemed to have a sick fascination with me and Donovan."
"That's what it looked like. There were photos where she literally cut herself out of a picture and then pasted herself into one that included you or Donovan. It was all very odd and unsettling. She was definitely thinking about the two of you and her relationship to both of you."
"She and I had no relationship."
"Do you think she was sleeping with Donovan?"
"No. I don't believe that. I don't think he liked her that much."
"Maybe that was it. She couldn't stand that neither of you ever wanted her."
"We need to find her and get our questions answered."
"That would be nice, but I have no idea where she is or where any of them are." Caitlyn paused. "I did some digging into Tim Coulson while I was in the office. Tim's mother, the one he shared with Donovan, died three years ago, and his father passed away three months ago. Tim inherited assets of about eight million dollars."
He let out a whistle. "I had no idea the Coulsons were that rich. I also didn’t know Donovan's mother had passed away."
"She died of leukemia. She was in and out of the hospital for a couple of years. Steve Coulson died in an automobile accident. He ran his car off Highway 1 just south of Big Sur. Apparently, he was on his way to a golf tournament at Pebble Beach. The investigators speculated that he'd fallen asleep at the wheel as the accident occurred late at night. There were no witnesses."
"There never are," he said cynically, wondering if the crash had really been an accident. "Interesting that Tim inherited everything."
"He made some huge withdrawals over the past month, adding up to hundreds of thousands of dollars."
"Terrorism is expensive."
"The kind he's doing certainly is. It would explain why he was able to hire a sniper to kill Kevin."
"That adds up. When did Tim get to Bolton?"
"Three months ago. He wasn't enrolled, but he did have an apartment off campus before he moved in with Allison. We also found a storage unit in his name in LA, rented after the father died and the family home was sold. That will be gone through in great detail, but it will take time. It appears that Tim went to Bolton for the purpose of launching his terrorist attacks. Clearly, that has some connection to Donovan, but how did he get Donovan's grand plan? How did he even know about it? He was twelve when Donovan died."
"I'm sure Donovan talked about the LNF. Tim could have easily found more information as he got older. There was a lot of news coverage about the bombing. When he got rich enough, he decided to follow in his brother's footsteps."
"That makes sense." She gave him an apologetic look. "I know you were angry at me for not taking you to the co-op."
He shrugged. "I wasn't thrilled, but I'm over it. I know you have to do your job."
"I'm glad you understand."
"But don't try to leave me out of the gala," he warned. "Because I'm not staying in this room while you go downstairs."
"It would be safer if you didn't go."
"Caitlyn—"
"Fine." She put up a hand. "I won't waste my breath."
"Good. Because if two hundred other people can be there, so can I."
"You do know my parents will be there, too."
"I'm actually looking forward to that. The look on your dad's face could be priceless," he said dryly.
She gave him a warning look. "I really don't need you to get into anything with him tonight."
"I won't start anything, but I can't say I won't finish what he starts." He paused as a knock came at the door.
Caitlyn immediately pulled out her weapon.
"It's room service," he reassured her.
"Are you sure?"
"I ordered some pre-gala snacks." He checked the door to make sure there was a room service waiter in the hall, noting that Caitlyn still had her gun at the ready.
"Thanks," he said, as the man asked him if he could set it up. "I'll take it from here." He signed the sheet and handed the waiter a ten-dollar bill. Then he wheeled the cart into the room.
Caitlyn put away her gun and looked at the cart in delight. "This looks good." She picked up the bottle of champagne. "Really? Champagne?"
"Hoping we have something to celebrate later."
"That would be nice. Did you get me a dress? Or do I need to run out to a store?"
"I got you two dresses. They're in the closet."
She walked over to the closet, pulling out the dresses. "Red and black?"
"Your choice. I wasn't sure which one you'd like. I figured we could return the other one tomorrow."
"They're both beautiful. I should go with the black." She gave him a reckless smile. "But I do love red. Which one do you like?"
"You already know."
She gave him a knowing smile. "I do. Let's eat and then I'll change."
"What do you think?" Caitlyn asked an hour later as she stepped out of the bathroom in the clingy, short red dress that showed off her legs and hugged her curves.
Quinn's breath caught in his chest. She really was the most beautiful woman he'd ever been with. And it wasn't just her pretty features—it was everything about her, including the sparkle in her eyes, and the smiling confidence on her lips.
"You look spectacular," he said.
"It's the dress."
"It's you."
"You sound like a man who wants to sleep with me."
"What I have in mind doesn't involve sleeping."
She flushed. "Save that thought for later. We need to get downstairs."
"I'm ready. But first—one for the road." He pulled her in for a kiss that was meant to be brief, but one taste of her mouth had him hungering for more. He slid his tongue between her lips, needing to take it deeper, needing to tighten the connection between them.
When they broke apart, she gave him a breathless smile. "You have always been a really good kisser."
"It was never just me; it was always us together—that's where the magic comes from."
And it was magic. He was completely caught up in her spell, but he was painfully aware that the spell might not last that much longer. There would come a time when they didn't need to stay together, when this was all over, when she would go back to her life, and he would go back to his.
He couldn't imagine that life anymore. A future without her seemed too bleak to consider. Was there really any other possible outcome? They'd been torn apart by a bomb and brought back together by a bomb. Would the truth, would the closure they both desperately wanted, bring an end to everything else between them?
"Quinn?" She gave him a questioning look. "Something wrong?"
"No. Let's go."
She picked up her gun and put it in her clutch. They took the elevator down
to the lobby and went through a security line for VIP guests and private law enforcement. Then they rode the escalator to the second-floor ballroom and grand hall. There were a dozen people in line at two bars set up in the hall. The silent auction was going on in a room next to the ballroom. There were a lot of pretty people in pretty clothes, and he felt very much out of place. This definitely was not his scene, not his world, but it was Caitlyn's, a reminder of their very different backgrounds.
He'd almost forgotten about the wealth and social circle she'd grown up in. When they were together, none of that had mattered. Caitlyn had not lived a big life at Bolton. She hadn't wanted to stand out. She'd wanted to live like everyone else, even if it had meant living at the Seaview Apartments with kids who'd grown up with much less than she'd had. Not that most of the students at Bolton were poor. A lot of them had come from money. He had been the one on scholarship, the one who worked extra jobs to pay the rent. And while he considered his success a freaking miracle considering where he'd come from, her parents had not been impressed with him at all.
"There they are," Caitlyn said, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you ready to face my parents?"
He followed her gaze to the very sophisticated man and woman holding court with a small circle of friends. He couldn't help the small sigh that escaped his lips. Seeing them again brought back a lot of bad memories.
Caitlyn gave him a questioning look. "I can speak to them alone."
"No." He straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. "I'm going to enjoy seeing your father's reaction to my presence."
"I'm not sure that will be so enjoyable for me," she said dryly. "But I can give you that."
He wished she could give him a lot more than that.
As they walked over to the group, he impulsively took Caitlyn's hand in his. She stiffened for a moment, but she didn't pull away. Whether that meant as much as he wanted it to, he didn't really know, but he'd take what he could get.
Chuck Carlson's gaze changed from happy and welcoming to angry and alarmed in less than a second, especially when his gaze took in their joined hands.
Rebecca Carlson, Caitlyn's mother, appeared shocked and speechless.
The others in the group seemed to sense the tension and made muttered replies as they left them alone.
"What are you doing with him?" Chuck Carlson demanded. "Are you out of your mind?"
"Quinn is helping me with the case," Caitlyn replied evenly.
"You told me the other night you hadn't seen Quinn," Rebecca said, finally finding her voice.
"That changed, Mom."
"His name wasn't on the list. I would have noticed his name," Chuck said. "I thought you were worried about this gala putting hundreds of people in danger, Caitlyn. The last person you should be with is the man who set the bomb that almost killed you."
"I'm worried about this event but not about Quinn," she said firmly. "He had nothing to do with that bomb, and you shouldn't have any doubt about that, because you did everything you could to get the FBI to find him guilty. But they couldn't, because he was innocent. So, you need to let go of this theory you've been holding onto for so long."
It was the first time he had heard Caitlyn speak with conviction about his innocence. Her father appeared taken aback as well, and her mother looked like she wished she was anywhere else.
Caitlyn gave him a tense smile. "Would you mind getting me a drink, Quinn? I'm thirsty."
He didn't think she was thirsty; he thought she wanted to talk to her parents alone. He was fine with that. He'd made his presence known. He didn't need to spend more time with the Carlsons. In fact, shocking them hadn't been all that satisfying, because he didn't really want to come between Caitlyn and her parents. He had never wanted that. They would never believe that, but it was the truth. He'd always known how much Caitlyn loved her parents, and having lost his own parents, the last thing he would have ever wanted to do was break up her family.
"What would you like?" he asked.
"Just mineral water for me," she said, "I'm working."
"I'll be back." As he let go of her hand, he fought off a feeling of foreboding. But Caitlyn was fine. She was with her parents, and she could take care of herself.
But as he got in line for the bar, he kept his eyes on them. The three of them were now having an intense conversation. Chuck was doing most of the talking, as usual. He was probably warning Caitlyn about him once more.
A woman came up to Rebecca and pulled her away, leaving Chuck and Caitlyn to continue their conversation alone. Then one of the security agents wearing a dark-gray suit approached them.
He stiffened, hoping there wasn't a problem. No one else appeared concerned. There were two security guards standing by the top of the escalator who were completely calm.
The man spoke quietly to Chuck, and then a moment later, Caitlyn and her dad followed the agent down a side hallway.
He frowned, thinking he should get out of line and see what was going on.
Before he could move, his attention was drawn to a woman who seemed very inebriated. She was stumbling toward a nearby restroom, clutching her stomach. She didn't make it to the restroom door, heaving her guts into a potted plant.
Alarmed chatter broke out. One of the security guards went over to assist her.
And then a man suddenly started vomiting all over the cocktail table he was standing at.
More people ran toward the bathrooms. Drinks were being dropped, glasses shattering on tabletops.
What the hell was going on?
He looked toward the bar, but the bartender had disappeared. People were muttering in confusion. As a nearby woman lifted her mixed drink to her lips, he knocked it out of her hand. "Don't drink that. Don't anyone drink anything," he yelled.
Security guards and FBI agents came running up the escalators, but he couldn't wait for them. Something bad was happening, and it wasn't just in the drinks. Caitlyn had not come back. Neither had her father.
He jogged down the hall where he'd last seen them go. It led into the kitchen. He dodged past servers and cooks, seeing an open door. When he ran through it, he saw a van speeding away. The security guard who had been talking to Caitlyn and her dad was lying facedown on the ground, blood pooling under his head.
His heart stopped when he saw Caitlyn's purse a few feet away.
The truth almost knocked him off his feet.
Someone had taken Caitlyn and her father!
Agents ran up behind him. They asked him to identify himself. They forced him to his knees, hands in the air. He yelled at them that Caitlyn and her father had been kidnapped. But no one was listening. Then a female FBI agent came over. "Quinn Kelly?" she asked.
"Yes. Someone took Caitlyn and her dad. A gray van. That's all I saw."
"Get up." She waved the other security personnel away. "I'm Agent Emi Sakato."
"You're Caitlyn's friend. Help me find her." He ran his hand through his hair, feeling terrified and desperate.
Why had he left her alone with her dad?
Why had he let go of her hand?
What if he never saw her again?
"I will find her," Agent Sakato promised. "Tell me exactly what you saw."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Caitlyn woke up to a searing pain in her head and a deep ache in her back and her hips. She was cold, and it was very, very dark. She blinked, trying to figure out where she was and what had happened.
She'd been talking to her dad.
One of the guys on his security team had told them there was a problem.
They'd followed him through the kitchen.
When they walked onto the loading dock, she'd felt a force behind her and then everything had gone black.
How long ago was that?
She heard someone moan. She tried to move, but her hands were in metal cuffs and locked around a pipe above her head. She squinted, trying to see where she was. As her vision cleared, she could see shapes in the darkness. It felt like they were
in a storage room.
Another moan came, louder this time.
"Dad?"
"Cait…"
His voice sounded weak. Fear ran through her. "I'm here, Dad. Are you all right?"
"I—I don't know."
"Can you move?"
"No. My hands are tied behind my back. My feet are tied too. I can't get up."
"Does anything hurt?"
"My head. Someone hit me."
"Me, too. They got us when we walked onto the loading dock."
"But Kent took us out there. He's been with me for ten years." Outrage rang through his voice. "He betrayed me."
"Maybe he didn't know," she suggested, but deep in her heart she knew she was wrong. Someone had gotten to Kent. Someone had forced him to change his loyalty. But what now? What did they want? They weren't dead yet. What was coming?
Whatever it was, it was going to be big and bold. The gala had been a decoy. The real target had been her father. He'd been too arrogant, too confident in his ability to protect himself. He'd thought he had unquestionable loyalty from the people surrounding him, but that had been a false assumption.
"I'm sorry, Caitlyn," he said, regret in his voice. "I didn't think they could touch me. I bet Quinn is involved."
"No, he's not. Aren't you ever going to tire of trying to turn him into the villain you think he is? You did everything you could to get the FBI to arrest him, but there was never any evidence. What will it take for you to believe that he's innocent?"
"A lot more than your word. You were blinded by love then, and apparently now, too. I can't believe you care anything about him after the way he left you."
"You forced him to leave."
"I gave him incentive. If he'd been a better man, he would have stayed and fought for you."
She wasn't going to let him get to her. She knew now exactly why Quinn had left and it wasn't just because her father had ordered him to do so; it was because he'd wanted to disappear and then go after Donovan. "I don't want to discuss Quinn," she said. "As I told you at the hotel, I believe the perpetrators to be two younger terrorists, siblings of people who were in the LNF. One of them dated Kevin, probably to get access to information. Spencer told me there was a security breach last week."
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