"You think that was tied to Kevin?"
"Yes. There's a very good chance Kevin was used and killed because he knew too much." She didn't bother to share Kevin's crazy story about Spencer with her dad. It wasn't true, and she didn't want to give more life to it.
"What do you think they want—money?"
"Maybe." But she was terrified they wanted more than that. "We need to figure out how to get out of here. Do you have any idea where we are?"
"It's hard to see, but it feels familiar. There's a scent."
"Lavender," she said. "Oh, my God! I know where we are. We're in the basement of your house."
"How can that be? It's the first place they'd look."
"No, Dad. It would be the last."
Quinn paced around a conference room in the Vanguard Hotel, where he'd spent sixty agonizingly slow minutes reiterating what he'd seen to Agent Sakato and several others. One senior agent seemed more interested in calling into question his relationship to the previous case than in hearing what he had to say about Caitlyn's kidnapping. But that agent was called away, and Agent Sakato took that opportunity to cut him loose.
She gave him her phone number, suggesting that it was possible he might hear from someone from his past, someone who could help them. He doubted anyone would call him now, but he promised to let her know if that happened.
When he finally walked back to the hall outside the ballroom, he encountered a vastly different scene than the one he'd left. All of the guests who had fallen ill had been taken to the hospital. There were about a dozen people still milling around, as well as a couple of security guards at the top of the escalators. Two of those people he recognized: Rebecca Carlson and Caitlyn's brother, Spencer Carlson. Spencer was not in a suit. He had not been planning to attend the gala, but clearly, his mother had called him to come over. They were sitting on a bench outside the ballroom, an older couple hovering nearby, concern etched across their faces.
When Spencer saw him, he jumped to his feet and strode toward him, worry tightening his pale face. Spencer was one of those golden boys, good-looking and rich, who had been born with everything but still seemed to have trouble making something out of their lives. At least, that had been his impression ten years ago. He didn't know how true it was now, but it didn't matter. Caitlyn loved and believed in her brother. He was going to trust her instincts.
"Quinn. My mom said you were back. What's going on? Do you know what's happened to Caitlyn and my dad?"
"I know they were taken away by someone in a van at the loading dock. One of your father's security guards apparently lured them out there. He's now dead."
Spencer blanched. "Oh, my God! Who was it?"
"I heard one of the agents say his name was Kent. I don't have any more details."
"Kent Wisemore has been with my dad for ten years." Spencer shook his head in bewilderment. "Why would he betray him?"
"I'm sure he had incentive. The FBI is trying to figure that out. But I'm more concerned about where Caitlyn and your father are. Do you have any idea where they might be taken?"
"How the hell would I know?" Spencer rocked back on his heels, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm not involved in any of this, Quinn, even though everyone keeps trying to pin the bombs on me, which is completely unbelievable. How did I get to be a target?" Spencer asked in bewilderment.
He wondered about that, too. Why had Spencer become a target? Why had it been so important for Tim and Allison to make Caitlyn think her own brother had been responsible for the bombs? He suddenly knew the answer. "You're being set up."
Spencer's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"You're going to be framed for whatever is about to happen." It all made sense now.
"How is that possible?" Spencer asked.
"Caitlyn said your company had a security breach. If Kevin was behind that, could he have accessed information about you? Could he have gained insight into proprietary information beyond Lexitech, like the other companies under the Carlson umbrella? Could he have learned about the security plans for this event or for the tower?"
"That's possible," Spencer said. "Do you think there's something else coming, Quinn? My mom is waiting for a ransom request. Is that the big play?"
His blood started to race. He shook his head. "I don't believe they're holding your father and sister for ransom." There was only one answer that made sense. "There's going to be another explosion."
"Where?"
"Maybe the Carlson Tower. The gala could have been the decoy."
"The tower has a ton of security, levels upon levels. And everything was increased several days ago. It's impenetrable."
"Even for someone with access to your security system information?"
"Damn!"
"And if Kevin planted information to make it look like you have had problems with your father or with the company or both, you could be the prime suspect for anything that happens tonight. We know they were already trying to make it look like you were responsible for the first explosion ten years ago, that you did it to get back at your father. This could be more of the same."
"It's so twisted and unbelievable. The FBI would see right through that, wouldn't they?"
"Maybe not right away, which would give the terrorists more opportunities. You need to tell the FBI what we just talked about and suggest they get over to the tower immediately. They'll be more likely to follow your direction than mine."
"All right. What are you going to do?"
"I'm heading there now. There's not a minute to waste."
"You have to save her," Spencer said, giving him a hard, desperate look. "This time you have to save her, Quinn. She can't live through that again. It almost destroyed her the first time."
"I know." He ran for the elevator. He needed a vehicle and Caitlyn had left the keys to her car in their room.
When he entered the room and saw Caitlyn's clothes on the bed, the stakes became even higher. Smelling the scent of her perfume in the air just about killed him. He could not let her die. He also could not let fear take over. He had to find her. He had to stop what was going to happen before it happened.
He grabbed the car keys from the dresser and headed back out, taking the elevator to the parking garage. He used the keys to find the car, and then he hopped inside and sped out of the garage. It had been over ninety minutes since Caitlyn and her father had disappeared. That was a long time. He hoped he wasn't too late.
As he headed toward the Carlson Tower, which loomed fifty stories high in the San Francisco skyline, he couldn't help thinking again that it was the perfect target, especially if Chuck Carlson was now inside, and Caitlyn was a bonus.
Had she even been part of the plan? Or had she just gone along with her dad to see what was going on?
The light turned green, and he pressed down hard on the gas, but there was doubt tugging at the back of his brain.
Was he on the right track?
The Carlson Tower would make for a glorious explosion. It would cause maximum damage.
But it wasn't as personal as it could be.
There were other companies in the tower; not all of them belonged to Carlson Industries. Not that he believed the terrorists cared about collateral damage. But as he thought about Donovan, about the grand plan Tim was now carrying out, he didn't believe the tower would have been on the plan.
Donovan had wanted to cut off the head of the snake. In this case, that had to be Chuck Carlson, which made the tower a good target if Chuck was there.
But then the image of the beheaded snake in his head brought forth the quote in Donovan's notebook: Corporate greed lives like a viper in its nest. You must kill it before it kills you.
His heart jumped. They weren't going to be at the tower. That wasn’t the nest.
They were going to be at the last place anyone would expect—the Carlson home.
Who would kidnap someone and just take them home?
Maybe a very evil genius.
> Chapter Twenty-Six
Caitlyn's wrists were burning from the relentless scrape of the metal cuffs against her skin as she tried to get free. The only potential benefit to the fact that her hands were elevated above her head was that the blood was draining from her fingers. Was it possible with a few twists she might be able to release her hands? She tried to stay positive, but it was getting more difficult with each passing minute.
Her father was also struggling, grunting as he rolled back and forth, trying to loosen his ties. But he was having no more luck than she was. A few minutes ago, she'd heard footsteps upstairs, the muffled sound of voices implying at least two people.
What were they waiting for? Was someone else supposed to show up?
Whoever had grabbed them probably wasn't the boss. That would be Tim, she'd bet. But who else was helping him? Allison? Lauren? Wyatt? Hank? The names rolled around in her head. It disgusted her to think they might all be involved. She felt another wave of fury at herself. She shouldn't have let this happen. She'd been distracted talking to her dad. Now, they were in a terrible situation.
"It's no use," her father said, despair in his voice.
"Don't give up. We have to keep fighting. Is your phone in your pocket?"
"I can't feel it. Why?"
"I was thinking the FBI could track your phone, but the kidnappers probably tossed it as soon as they grabbed us. If you could get closer to me, maybe we could get each other free." While her hands were cuffed with metal, her ankles were zip-tied, and there could be something in the basement they could use to cut through the tie.
"I can't do it, Caitlyn."
Her dad rolled over onto his side, a good six feet from her. She could see him better now that she'd gotten used to the darkness.
"You're close," he added. "But you might as well be in the next state. I'm sorry, honey."
"It's okay. We'll figure something else out." She tugged once more at the pipe holding her captive, and to her amazement, she heard it crack. "Wait, I think something might have just broken." She pulled down hard and felt the pipe yield ever so slightly. It hadn't come loose from the wall, but there was progress. She just had to keep at it.
But then the door to the basement opened. A light went on. She blinked at the sudden brightness and stilled as two people walked down the stairs. The man who appeared first stole the breath out of her chest. Dressed in jeans and a black jacket, he looked exactly like Donovan, with his blond hair and green eyes. Tim Coulson was about the same age now that Donovan had been when she'd known him. It felt surreal to see the resemblance. But Tim's gaze differed from Donovan's. It was cold, ruthless, and evil.
"The infamous Caitlyn," he drawled. "Do you know who I am?"
"Tim Coulson. You look like your brother."
"Only I'm very much alive."
"Probably not for long," she snapped, lifting her chin in defiance despite her vulnerable position.
"I'm not worried. I have you and your father exactly where I want you. You played into my game so perfectly. In fact, you made it even easier than I thought it would be."
As he spoke, she turned her attention to the young woman hovering by the steps. Allison Sullivan was a thin brunette dressed in jeans and a gray hoodie. She didn't look exactly like Lauren, but she shared similar features. She also seemed a bit less certain of what was about to happen. Maybe the truth of what was about to occur had come too late for her.
"What do you want from us?" she asked, moving her gaze back to Tim.
"Want from you?" he echoed with a laugh. "You're not in a position to give me anything—either of you." He gazed at her father. "You look like such a small man now. How does it feel?"
Her father didn't reply.
"Answer me, old man," Tim said, taking a few steps toward her father, close enough to kick him in the gut.
Her dad moaned at the action, but he still didn't talk, and she could see Tim getting more riled up. He lifted the gun in his hand, pointing at her dad's head.
"What is this about?" she asked, wanting to distract him. "What do you want the world to know?"
Tim's gaze moved to her. "Don't you know?"
"I know what Donovan wanted. He wanted to protect the environment."
"He wanted more than that. I have his words. I know his dreams, and I've been waiting for the right time to finish what my brother started. The world will soon realize that we will not be ignored. We will not continue to let capitalists destroy our planet. We will take the power back. We will kill the greedy viper in his nest."
His words reminded her of the quote in Donovan's notebook. "Didn't Donovan write that?" she challenged. "Don't you have any thoughts of your own?"
Tim's lips tightened, and she almost regretted the taunt.
"I have far more plans than Donovan ever had," he retorted. "My brother didn't think big enough. He was afraid to go too far. But when you are fighting for a righteous cause, you must go all the way. You must hold the guilty accountable." Tim looked back at her father once more. "You had many opportunities to do better, but you were unwilling to change. Even when your daughter almost died, you continued to pollute our world."
"I've made a tremendous number of changes—"
"Shut up," Tim said, waving his gun in the air. "I have no interest in what you have to say."
"That's because you're a coward, a punk with a gun."
Her heart jolted as her dad's words incited more anger. "Dad," she pleaded. "Don't say anything else."
"Are you worried about him?" Tim asked her. "You should be. The things he has done are horrific. You've always known that, Caitlyn. You've always looked the other way."
"What's the grand plan? Where's the rest of your group?" she challenged, wanting to keep Tim talking so there was time for someone to find them. But ever since she'd realized where they were, she'd thought it was doubtful anyone would come to their rescue. The FBI would never assume that they'd be taken home by the kidnappers. She just hoped her mom hadn't come back to the house after the gala. Hopefully, the agents were keeping her safe at the hotel.
"You and your father are going to understand what it's like to suffer," Tim continued, fervor growing in his gaze. "You will know you're going to die, just like all the people who have died from the air you've polluted, the water you've poisoned."
"That's what you did this week. You poisoned the air and the water," she said. "You made innocent people sick. You're not a good person, Tim. You're a terrorist."
"I fight fire with fire."
"Who's helping you? Where's everyone else?"
"I find people to use when I need them. And then they're gone. Keeping the circle of trust small is important. Donovan didn't understand that. He built an army that was more interested in parties than in revolution."
Since he seemed interested in telling her how he was better than Donovan, she egged him on. "Why now?" she challenged. "Why did you decide to do all this now?"
"Because I had the means."
"Your father's money."
He seemed surprised that she knew about that.
"Here you are, acting like this rebel when you're a rich kid, just like me," she said. "Your father worked for a gas company. The money you're using is dirty money."
"I'm making it clean."
"You used that money to hire someone to kill Kevin. Murder isn't clean."
"Kevin was going to betray us. Traitors need to be dealt with, something else Donovan didn't understand. If he had, he would have killed Quinn."
"Tim," Allison spoke for the first time. "We need to go."
"When I'm ready," he snapped. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He turned back to her. "I don't care that you're a rich kid, Caitlyn. I care that you're the reason Donovan is dead."
"How am I responsible for your brother's suicide?"
"It wasn't suicide. Quinn killed him. He killed Donovan for you. And my only regret is that your boyfriend isn't here with you. But I'll get to him. No one can stop me. I'm u
nbeatable. I will save the planet the way Donovan wanted. I will turn his legacy into something incredible. I will make us both gods."
The crazy was becoming more obvious. "Donovan didn't want to kill people."
"He wanted to kill you. He tried to blow you up."
"Donovan didn't want to kill me," she said. "He only wanted to destroy the building. He sent a message to Lauren to get me and Quinn out of the building, but she only got Quinn out. That wasn't what Donovan wanted. When Donovan realized he'd almost killed his best friend's girlfriend, he couldn't live with himself. Lauren is the real reason Donovan is dead."
"That's not true," Allison cut in. "Lauren told me that Donovan only wanted her to save Quinn."
"She lied to you. I have proof. I saw the message he sent her." She delivered the lies as forcefully as she could, wanting to divide them, wanting Lauren to become the wedge.
"You're the one who is lying," Allison said heatedly.
"You know I'm not." She turned back to Tim. "Lauren killed Donovan. She killed your brother, and she's making a fool of you now. Is she the one who gave you Donovan's so-called plan? Did you ever consider that it's actually her plan? That Donovan had nothing to do with it at all?"
"Shut up!" Tim shouted. "You're making this shit up. You know nothing."
"I know more than you. Quinn told me everything about Yosemite. Donovan confessed to setting the bomb. He said Lauren and Wyatt were in on it," she added, wanting to make it sound believable. "Donovan said he got lost, he listened to the wrong people. You're not following your brother's plan, Tim; you're following the plan of his so-called friends."
"Quinn is a liar, too," Tim said. "And I have very special plans for him. He will pay for what he did."
Her heart sank, but she took solace in the fact that Quinn wasn't here now.
"I should thank you, Caitlyn. I didn't know where Quinn was until he showed up with you. But now he can be a part of this," Tim added.
"Tim," Allison said. "Come here."
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