“Why? Why would he get involved?”
Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know the answers, Cassidy.”
“And why would he get himself involved with a group like DH-7? He had a good career, a good life, a good family.”
“Money, power, greed—once you have some, you only want more. It can infect the unlikeliest of people.”
“I agree—the lure of those things is strong. I just never saw that as important to Samuel.”
“I’m sorry, Cassidy.” Ryan started to reach for her hand but stopped himself. “I know this has to be hard on you.”
Her stomach clenched at the compassion in his voice. She didn’t want Ryan’s compassion. She wanted answers. She wanted understanding. She didn’t want sympathy.
Just then, her phone buzzed. She glanced at her screen and saw that it was a text from Mac.
“Excuse me a minute,” Cassidy muttered before clicking on the message.
Mac had taken a screenshot of the security footage showing the man who’d come in earlier today. Cassidy studied the image. The man was just as Quinton had described him. Medium height. Light brown hair.
It definitely wasn’t Samuel or Ricky. The man looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
After a second of hesitation, she showed the picture to Ryan. “Do you recognize this man?”
Recognition spread across his features. “As a matter of fact, I do. That’s Greg Marks. He and Samuel worked together.”
Chapter Five
After they ate, everyone stood. Ty had been quiet—he’d been mostly listening. Every so often, Cassidy had noticed him scanning the windows, looking for any sign of trouble.
Ryan paused by the door before leaving, something obviously on his mind. “It’s more urgent than ever that you make a choice. Especially if Greg is on the island. That means that Samuel could be here also. Until we know if he’s been captured, you’re not safe.”
Ty stepped closer. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Ryan’s gaze flickered with annoyance, as if he didn’t appreciate Ty’s intrusion. “You’re not supposed to know any of this. And I don’t know what Cassidy told you, but I’m not sure you really realize how ruthless these men are.”
“I’ve faced terrorists.” Ty said the words casually, like there was nothing unusual about what he’d done in his past. In truth, he was a hero, and he’d risked his life to preserve the freedoms of strangers and for his country.
Ryan said nothing, but the agitation in his eyes grew. His gaze flickered back to Cassidy, dismissing Ty’s statement with the one action. “Tomorrow morning?”
Cassidy nodded, still feeling dazed and a little irritated. “I’ll let you know then.”
But she already knew what her choice was. She was staying on Lantern Beach with Ty and Kujo.
Before Ryan stepped out the door, she had another question for him. “Ryan, does the expression Tango Mango mean anything to you?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that military jargon or something?”
She didn’t want him to know that Samuel had sent her information—top secret documents—that included memos between the leaders of DH-7. The gang had operated as more of a business than she’d ever guessed.
One of the code names they’d used for a scientist they’d hired was Tango Mango.
“I thought I heard Raul use that phrase once,” she finally said, leaving out part of the details.
“You never mentioned that when you were debriefed.” Ryan studied her expression, almost like he wanted to jump into trial mode and put her on the witness stand under oath. “I’ve reread those interviews with you many times.”
“Maybe I blocked it out. I’m not sure. It just came back to me, though.”
His shoulders softened, and he rolled his neck—all in a few seconds—and then he snapped back to professional mode. “If I come across anything about it, I can let you know. But I don’t understand why you’d want to know that information or what you think this has to do with this case.”
The response was on the tip of Cassidy’s tongue. But she didn’t speak it out loud. Not to Ryan. Not until she knew if she was crazy or not.
“It’s just been bugging me,” she finally said. “That’s all.”
Ryan’s gaze lingered on her another moment until he finally nodded. “I wish you’d leave. Now. You’re no good to us dead.”
This wasn’t really about Cassidy. No, it was about what she could do for the prosecution. It had become clear to her that she was just a pawn in this whole investigation. Then again, Cassidy had felt like a pawn for most of her life, a figurehead for her parents and family.
Being in Lantern Beach was the first time she’d felt like a person. Like a friend. A girlfriend.
“Bye, Ryan,” she muttered.
He gave her a nod and then stepped out.
As soon as the door closed and Ryan’s steps descended the stairs, Ty turned toward Cassidy. His expression looked hard. “I don’t like him.”
Cassidy hadn’t expected them to be best friends, so his words were no surprise. “Is it because I used to be engaged to him?”
His jaw flexed, and he drew in a deep breath. “Because he seems like the type who likes trophies.”
Cassidy couldn’t argue, but it brought her a strange comfort to know that Ty had seen that in Ryan. If only Cassidy had seen it earlier. “Ryan is out of my life. Mostly. After the trial he will be.”
“You didn’t tell him your theory.” Ty paused. “About Tango Mango. Do you think he’s involved?”
“Sometimes I think it’s just better to keep information close until I’m sure it’s the right time to expose it,” Cassidy said. “I’m not sure today is that day.”
“If your theory is true, then this is even bigger than you anticipated.”
Cassidy crossed her arms, wishing they could talk about something else. But there wasn’t time to spare. And Ty’s words were true. With every new detail she uncovered, she realized just how huge this whole web of crime was.
“I know. The truth is, I think Lucy’s dad was involved in DH-7, and that involvement somehow got my friend killed.” She paused. “I don’t think it was a coincidence I was chosen for this undercover assignment, either. I think someone was pulling the strings from the start.”
“Why do you think that?”
There was only one theory that stood out in her mind. “Maybe because my father is one of the richest men in the United States.”
“Could be true. The lengths people will go to for money are mind blowing.”
Cassidy’s phone buzzed again, and again it was Mac.
Can you meet me out on the boardwalk? I can’t leave, but we need to talk. Face to face.
She glanced up at Ty. “What do you think? Is it safe?”
“I don’t think anywhere is safe. But I’ve got your back.”
Cassidy and Ty easily found Mac on the boardwalk. He stood near the railing separating the sidewalk from the sand, staring at the beach, and eating . . . popcorn.
Cassidy smiled. She loved the man’s gumption. On some people, his attitude might be irritating. But his humor fit Mac, making him charming and entertaining.
As they approached, she noted how nice it was to see him in his police uniform—where he belonged. He lived for stuff like this and would be excellent as a permanent police chief, even though he didn’t want the job. He claimed that, at sixty, he was too old.
In the background, near the shore, a row of fishermen cast their lines into the water, hoping for a prize for the best fish. The surf was rough today, and forecasters had promised a storm later tonight. Rip current advisories had already been posted up and down the shore.
It was busier on the boardwalk than Cassidy would have guessed, but she supposed the fishermen had brought their families. Some carried cotton candy, others carried cups of peel-and-eat shrimp or paper boats of boardwalk fries. It seemed like the quintessential beach day.
Mac glanced over, saw them
approaching, and tossed the rest of his popcorn in a nearby garbage bin. “Already broke up three fights, and lifeguards have rescued four people from this surf. I’d say it doesn’t get much more exciting around here.”
Cassidy frowned. “Those things might not be your biggest problems of the day, unfortunately.”
His smile dipped, and his joking disappeared. “Who’s that man on the video?”
Ty squeezed in closer to her, and Cassidy knew he was watching everything around them. It was good to have another set of eyes on the situation—and on her.
Cassidy explained today’s events, and, as she did, Mac’s expression grew darker and darker.
“Something doesn’t sound right,” he said.
“I’m torn between staying and leaving,” Cassidy admitted. “I want to stay, but I don’t want to be stupid.”
“At least here the environment is controlled—for the most part. We know this island and can keep an eye on who comes and goes. If you leave and trouble follows you . . .”
“I’ll be on my own.” As the words hit her ears, Cassidy cringed. She hated the sound of that.
“Exactly.” Mac glanced around. “I’ll keep my eyes open for the man from the video. At least Quinton didn’t show that he had no common sense when the man asked about you. Sometimes, I think that was Bozoman’s prerequisite for hiring anyone. Are you competent? What’s that mean? Perfect—you’re hired!”
Cassidy smiled. Bozoman—better known as Alan Bozeman—had been the police chief, but he’d stepped down to deal with some family issues. It was probably better that way since the man had not only been inexperienced, but also clueless.
“But I don’t like the idea that this man is in town,” Mac continued.
“Believe me—I don’t either. It’s like the trouble doesn’t stop coming.”
In a split second, the air changed around them. Cassidy felt it, felt the goosebumps pop up on her skin and her hairs rise.
“Cassidy, get down!” Ty shouted.
Before Cassidy could react, Ty threw himself over her.
A gunshot filled the air, followed by screams from the people around her.
Chapter Six
Still using his own body to shield Cassidy, Ty glanced back up to the rooftop where he’d spotted the shooter. He’d seen the glint of the gun’s scope—just a split second before the man had fired.
But now the shooter was gone.
That didn’t mean he was going to get away. Not if Ty had anything to do with it.
First, he looked down at Cassidy beneath him. She’d hit the boardwalk—but at least she hadn’t taken a bullet. “Are you okay?”
She pushed herself up on her elbows, looking slightly dazed. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Stay here,” Ty said. “Mac, can you stay with her?”
“For a few minutes while I call in backup.” Mac knelt beside her, ready to help her to her feet.
Ty took off toward the yellow building housing a candy shop on the first floor. The second floor was probably an apartment, if he had to guess, and the whole thing had a flat roof—perfect for a wannabe sniper.
He needed to cut the shooter off before he got away.
He dodged tourists and fishermen and a young couple from church who were strolling and eating ice cream. Some people stopped to stare. Some had run for cover. Some simply thought the noise signaled the start of a new round in the fishing tournament—based on a conversation Ty overheard.
He had to catch this guy. If he did, Cassidy would be one step closer to freedom. Not to mention that he and Cassidy would be one step closer to being able to get married.
Vendors made the area even tighter—people selling homemade soap and spice rubs and other things Ty didn’t have time to look at. They lined the edges of the quaint walkway.
As he rounded the edge of a line of shops, he spotted someone jumping from a ladder on the side of the building. That had to be the shooter.
The man wore a baseball cap pulled down low, so Ty couldn’t see his face. He just knew he was a white man of average height and weight. He could be the man from the police station—Greg, Ryan had told them.
The crowds still scattered all around him, obstacles in his way of catching the man. He skirted around people as fast as he could, trying to reach the shooter.
His legs burned as he chased after the man. The shooter had too much of a head start.
That meant Ty needed to push himself harder.
The man glanced back—a potentially fatal mistake because he lost time.
Ty watched as he turned into an alley. If the man was hoping to cut through to the beach, he was sadly mistaken. This alley ended at a fence.
And it was Ty’s chance to catch him and find out what was going on here.
Ty turned the corner. Just as he did, something hard smashed into his head.
Cassidy stood and rubbed her elbow. She was going to have a bruise there—maybe even a small scrape. But those were the least of her concerns right now.
She swung her head around, searching for any destruction the bullet had caused. Anyone hurt. Anything destroyed.
She spotted a bullet hole in the wooden railing within arm’s distance of her. This situation could have turned out so much differently. Someone could have been killed or seriously injured.
Thank goodness the man had missed.
But her heart pounded so hard she could hear it, half expected even to see it pulsing at her chest cavity just like in those old cartoons.
Mac still had one hand on her arm, but the other hand gripped his phone. He hung up and slid the device back into his pocket. “Backup is on the way—if you consider Quinton and Wheezer backup. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Really. Go. Go help Ty. You can’t stay here and babysit me.”
“But—”
“I have my gun.” She sounded more breathless than she’d like. “I’ll be okay.”
Mac hesitated one more moment before taking off. They needed to catch whoever had done this.
Cassidy didn’t plan on sitting back while everyone else did the dangerous work either.
After catching her breath, she rushed toward the scene, desperate to see something. To help. To find Ty.
As she sprinted, she scanned everything around her. People ran for cover or huddled together. A sense of panic fell around her.
“Someone is shooting!” a woman yelled.
More chaos broke out. People ran. Hid. Looked for loved ones.
Cassidy didn’t know where the man had gone or what he even looked like. But she felt certain she’d know who he was when she saw him. That she’d sense the adrenaline that must be coming off him like heat waves off asphalt after pulling that trigger.
She reached the end of the block but saw no one.
Stopping, Cassidy let out a sigh.
Where had the man gone? Where was Ty? Had he caught the shooter?
She looped back around, trying to catch up with Mac and Ty before they got worried. As she reached the other end of the row of shops, Ty appeared from around the corner. He rubbed his head, his eyes narrowed and maybe even disoriented.
Cassidy rushed toward him, a surge of worry rising in her. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I thought I had him.” He glanced around like he might find the man. “But when I rounded the corner, he slammed a broken four-by-four into my head.”
“Oh, Ty.” She studied his face. A small bump had already formed near his temple, and a red mark blotched his skin.
He dropped his hand, and his gaze came back into focus. “I’m fine. Just my pride is injured.”
“I guess he got away?” Cassidy had allowed hope to momentarily enter her thoughts—hope that they’d catch this guy and put all of this behind them. The thought had been foolish.
Ty frowned and looked off in the distance, as if remembering the moment. “That’s right. Unfortunately.”
“Did you get a glimpse of him?”
“Nothing definite. He w
ore a hat. But it could have been Greg.”
“Maybe we should have you checked out.” Worst-case scenarios rushed through her mind. Head injuries were nothing to play with.
“I’m really fine.” Ty squeezed Cassidy’s arm now, his gaze firm and leaving no room for questions.
Cassidy stared beyond Ty a moment, her thoughts racing to review what had happened. “Why would someone open fire in public?”
It was such a risky move. Bystanders could have been injured or killed.
“Someone wanted to send a message,” Ty said.
“You’re right. Maybe someone saw something. Mac’s out there now investigating. The good news is that no one was hurt.”
“Maybe we should get you home.” Ty put his arm around her.
“That’s a good idea.” Cassidy took the keys from his hands. “But I’m driving.”
Chapter Seven
Back at Cassidy’s house, Kujo greeted them as soon as they opened the door. Cassidy patted his head but didn’t step inside.
She had to be overly careful here and to live like her life was on the line.
Because it was.
As if Ty could read her thoughts, he strode down the hallway, beating her to the task of checking the space for intruders.
“It’s clear,” he announced, joining her again at the entryway.
“Thank goodness.” Cassidy studied the knot on his forehead, worry twisting inside her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I promise. I’m fine. If I’m not, I’ll go to the clinic. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
That was Ty for you. Always thinking of her.
Cassidy knew he wouldn’t change his mind about going to be checked out, so she moved on. She’d call him out on it later if the injury still seemed to be bothering him.
“I studied the area on the boardwalk where the bullet hit,” Cassidy said, grabbing bottles of water for both of them. “It was only a foot away from where I was standing. If I was the target, either the guy has bad aim, or he missed on purpose.”
“Maybe he was trying to scare you.”
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