Secure Desire Page 32

  “I want to talk to you about Cassie.” Ian flipped his sunglasses onto his head.

  Garett sat on the curb. “She’s dead, but you know that. There’s nothing to say.”

  “I was helping her figure out what happened six years ago. I think you know.” Garett started to get up, but Ian continued, “I know about the baby.”

  Garett sat down again. “What does it matter now? She’s gone.”

  “He mattered to Cassie,” Ian said.

  “It was a shame. I hoped she’d be happy.”

  “Happy? You and your mother tortured her. You called her a whore. Made her feel dirtier than the attack. You demonized her. And your two friends Robby and Sebastian raped and sodomized her. You think that would make her happy?” Ian yelled.

  Garett wiped sweat from his brow. “Robby and Seb? Is that why he stabbed her?”

  “Garett, this is your chance to come clean. You couldn’t look at Ames at the dinner. Damn it. What happened before they got to her?”

  “I don’t know?”

  Ian shook his head in disgust. “You have a chance to fix this in her memory. Call me when you’re ready to tell the truth.” Ian tossed his business card at Garett and started to walk away.

  “Did she suffer?”

  “Yeah, for the last six years.”

  The Bynum family accepted guests in their home after the burial of their only child. Senator Bynum stood speaking with Adrienne and Braford Whitman. “Monte called me. The baby is gone.”

  “That’s what we wanted.” Adrienne placed a consoling hand on his.

  The senator said, “You don’t understand. We don’t know where he is.”

  After the foursome separated, Monique approached Betty. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Monique, thank you for coming. I know we just met, but that meal was quite a bonding experience. Have you heard anything about poor little Cassie? Bob and I feel somewhat responsible since we brought Mr. Ames to the dinner.”

  Monique let tears fill her eyes. “I guess you didn’t hear the news with everything going on. Cassie was killed two nights ago during the storm.”

  Betty looked horrified, and something else—Monique couldn’t put her finger on it. “Oh my, what happened?”

  Monique reached for her handkerchief and patted her eyes. “She was staying at the house with us. Ian offered her a safe place to recover. Instead… home invasion. There was a horrific explosion, and Ian couldn’t get to her in time. The police are still investigating. And he is destroyed. They loved each other.”

  Betty Bynum patted her arm. “I don’t know if she told you, I met her years ago at Ade and Bradford’s. She was engaged to their son. Such a lovely young lady. Robby always said she was too good for him. She was smart and independent. Not that I like to say mean things about a dear friend’s child, but Garett is such a weak-willed young man. Ade runs the roost. Cheyenne is perfect for him—not an intelligent or independent thought in her head. I used to criticize Ade’s parenting skills, but now with Robby gone, maybe her way was right.” Betty wiped away a tear of her own.

  A couple approached to extend their sympathy, and Betty greeted them with a wan smile. “I’m sorry, Monique. You don’t need to hear about my loss. You have your own to deal with. Please tell Mr. Chase we are sorry.”

  Monique sniffed. “He wanted me to convey his condolences. He’s just not ready to be out in public. We have no idea when we can even bury her. The technicians are sifting through the rubble.” Monique turned to walk away.

  Betty grabbed her elbow. “It was nice to see her at the dinner. We weren’t that surprised when she broke her engagement with Garett. That boy never knew what a good thing he had. And at the dinner, acting all lovesick over her again, especially with his wife there, pregnant like that? I was embarrassed for Ade and Bradford. Bob and I were so happy to see her with Mr. Chase; no man was going to break that attraction. I tried to get Bob to discourage Sebastian once we realized about Ian. Poor kid—she was out of his league.”

  Monique mingled, keeping a close eye on the Bynums and Whitmans. The electricity in the room changed suddenly. Feeling secure that she set the waves in motion, all Monique wanted was to put her head down.

  Adrienne Whitman blocked her escape. “We meet again, Mrs. Chase. Betty just told me the terrible news. Bullets and oxygen just don’t mix. I’m sure she never knew what hit her—perhaps that’s for the best. She’s with her family now.”

  Monique seethed. Even in death, Adrienne Whitman would not give Cassie the respect she deserved.

  Outside, the hot, humid air blasted her face. Colby helped her into the luxury sedan and took the wheel, cranking the air conditioning. “Are you okay? You look pale. Did you eat today?” He reached into a small cooler in the back seat and handed her a bottle of water and a granola bar.

  “He told you?” Monique groaned.

  “It’s important for your safety that I know about this, Momma. You know I’ll keep your secret. How did it go?”

  “It was interesting. There was something odd about Betty Bynum, more than losing her son. The look on her face when I told her that Cassie was dead. I just can’t figure it out.” She drank from the water bottle. “Oh, God, it was relief. She seemed relieved to hear about the death. And then I bumped into the dragon lady. Adrienne Whitman was saying she was sorry Cassie was dead, but her words—she enjoyed the fact she’s gone.” Monique played the conversation back in her head. “Colby, we need to call Kieran. Adrianne Whitman said, ‘Bullets and oxygen don’t mix.’ That was never released to the media. There’s another leak.”

  Colby immediately hit the Bluetooth. “Kieran, it’s Cowboy. Monique’s with me. Everything’s okay.” Monique taught him to preface every conversation with that statement.

  “Darling, Adrienne Whitman told me that oxygen and bullets don’t mix. Who’s got that story? There’s another leak. How did she know?”

  “I’ll call analysis and start running it through the channels. Got a lot of people involved. Cops, fire, FBI. Time for you to come home, doll face. Cowboy, I don’t care what she says, bring her to the house. Make sure she eats and drinks something.”

  “Roger that, boss.”

  Monique shook her head. “He’s a caveman.”

  Mia Donnelly stared at the report in front of her. William Thomas Ensworth, male, blood type A negative. In a detailed chart was Cassie’s DNA profile, the baby’s profile, and the father’s profile, confirming what they already knew. “Daddy has to be A negative or AB negative.”

  Mia read further down on the report. “And, Daddy, you have a gene mutation. Harmless, but it certainly narrows the pool.” All she had to do was find the man responsible. The profile was running through CODIS—the combined DNA index system. While that was running, she filled out the Armed Forces DNA Investigation Lab’s work request. Even expedited, it would be weeks for results and no guarantee of a match. She called Kieran with the news.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  During the three weeks after the explosion, evidence came together but with minimal results. Ian and Kieran sat in their office, Kieran staring down at the final police report. “We pulled it off. The report states a bullet from one of the intruder’s weapons struck Cassie’s oxygen supply and caused the first blast. The second explosion occurred when a leak from one of the OR tanks came in contact with the fire. The third explosion came from a boat’s malfunctioning motor, which the police concluded had no connection to the explosions that resulted in Cassie’s horrific death.”

  “Great, they believe Cassie died in a home invasion,” Ian said, frustrated.

  “We know that building inspector who died was the leak.”

  “And we have no actionable evidence. Even though Christian figured out the man leaked the story to Adrienne Whitman, there’s no direct line of proof for the $25,000 deposit from an offshore account made to his checking account the day after the explosion—the same day he condemned the pool house.” Ian tossed the file across h
is desk.

  “She’s remembering more. Her walls are going up again.” He sifted through the photographs of Cassie found in the Russian invaders’ hotel. Some of the images were from the tabloids after the Helping Hearts dinner; one was an old stock photo. Another was a picture of Cassie in the outfit she wore at the Mellon 21 exhibition. The file also held disturbing candid photographs of Cassie, including stills of her from the hospital and the lounge chair on the patio. That photo had to come from someone on the water. Ian blew out a harsh breath. “I can’t keep Cassie in a bubble much longer.”

  “You’re beating yourself up. Go take a run; you’ll feel better,” Kieran suggested.

  More bad news followed in the next few days. Garett vanished after Ian spoke with him on the roadside. “Without Garett, we’re still in the dark about what happened to Cassie that night—and who William’s father was.”

  The morning after the explosion, Ian ordered a forensic accounting of Ellis Art Finds. He pored over the files that came in. “These animals are all tied together. Arkady Sabitov runs a gallery linked to Ellis Art Finds. On the side, he runs criminal and legitimate enterprises in Moscow. His brother, Viktor, is his partner. Victor’s wife, Irina, Vera Liukin’s sister, is the stay-at-home mom of a five-year-old boy. Our murderous radiologist, Vera, was spotted shopping in Moscow the day after the bombing at the Chase Group. Sabitov has not legally entered the United States in the past seven years.

  “Their gallery manager, David Sucov, handles the United States transactions. Records show he hasn’t traveled to the United States in the past five years. Instead, representatives of each company met in Switzerland to handle the EAF transactions. Kier, tell me Mark Devereaux is not involved.”

  “I wish I could.” Kieran frowned.

  Under the watchful eyes of her medics, Cassie worked out beside her family, Sophie, Martin, or Ian. Her strength and stamina grew daily. “I gained another pound,” she said gleefully.

  After family dinners, Ian spent the evenings with her. They spent hours talking about everything and nothing. They watched movies and made love.

  During week two, Cassie was cleared to take a bath. He filled the tub with lavender-scented water and lit candles in a beautiful, romantic gesture. “Sweetheart, I want you to enjoy your soak.” He kissed her softly.

  Cassie sighed and climbed into the water. Her body relaxed; her eyes grew heavy, and she slipped beneath the water. “Screeeech.”

  Ian took off at a run. “Cassie?” He searched their master suite. She was curled in a corner of the dark second bedroom. “I’ve got you.” He held her until her shivering stopped and she calmed.

  Stephanie was brought in for therapy. “I agree, Ian. Cassie is hiding something—you need to be hyper-aware of her actions.”

  “Boss, to protect her, I need her to trust me,” Martin said, explaining his plan.

  Recovering from his second concussion, he played up a slow recovery. They worked out, watched her reality TV favorites, and played video games. He realized she was cataloging the house security.

  “I’m so out of touch with what’s happening in the world.” She told him, trying to get computer access.

  “I’ll speak to IT. We’ll get you one, Gator.”

  “Why do they call you Farmer?”

  “Ian didn’t tell you?”

  “No. I get that you guys call yourselves nicknames so the enemy can’t identify you. I don’t know Ian or Kieran’s nicknames either.”

  Martin chuckled. “Well, I grew up on a farm in Iowa. That’s where my folks believe I got the name. I was initially called Iowa. The truth is that we were in Iraq for nine miserable months—it’s like living in a giant sandbox. My brother sent me some seeds, said the green would make me feel better. He said the university swore they were drought resistant. Outside our housing, I built a little garden. Because we were Special Ops, we were able to break some of the rules—like having beards and better housing. The damn things grew. The crop turned out to be very unconventional. My brother thought he was cute; the idiot sent me pot seeds. As you can imagine, that went over well with command. That rule was a hard one, but Ian went to bat for me. I lost some pay, but I wasn’t discharged.”

  Cassie tried not to laugh. “I’m sorry, but that’s funny.”

  Martin smiled. “It is now. I was facing the end of my career before it started.”

  “What did they call Ian?”

  “Ian’s nickname is Hornet. Kieran’s is Genius.”

  “Green Hornet for his favorite color? And Genius because he’s super smart?”

  “Right on the money, Gator. Can you figure out the reason behind Mike’s?”

  Cassie thought for a minute. “You guys call him Raptor. Raptors have huge claws.” She shifted her jaw. “He flew the F-22?”

  “How did you guess that?” Martin asked.

  “There is a tiny set of wings on the arm of his sunglasses,” Cassie recalled.

  Her observation skills were keen. Martin needed to watch her with increased caution.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  After mourning both their lost staff members in the previous weeks, Kieran and Ian went forward with the memorial for Dr. Cassiopeia Ellis. The first day was uneventful.

  Cassie was very quiet when Ian returned home. “I hate this. I’m deceiving my division friends and everyone in my neighborhood. I’m making Sophie and my family go along with the lies,” she lamented. Ian did his best to console her, but he knew he didn’t lessen her distress.

  On the second day, Kieran’s team maintained the perimeter security for the estate, and Pete relaxed in the den in case Cassie needed anything.

  Martin checked his watch. “Let’s hit the office while everyone is gone. Ian asked me to put together your security team. I want you to help me make the final decisions. And maybe I can get you some computer time.”

  Cassie was confused. “Isn’t that a lot of work? This should be over soon.”

  Martin inhaled. “Cassie, when this issue is closed, you’re still going to need security.”

  Cassie frowned. “Martin, I’m an FBI agent. Why would I need security?”

  “Ian is a very wealthy man. He also runs a company that has made enemies. The surest way to hurt him—”

  “Is through me. I’m his weak link.” Cassie’s voice was a whisper.

  Martin shook his head. “No, I was about to say his family—all his family. You saw him after he lost two of our people. Cassie, Chase Group is part of his heart. He can’t bear it if something happens to anyone in his circle.”

  “Martin, I know Jason is more than his driver. Do Declan and Lillian have security?” Martin nodded. “And Monique has Colby. Does she have a team?”

  “Yes, when she travels. And those needs will tighten when the baby comes.”

  “C’mon, let’s look at people,” Cassie huffed as she surveyed the office.

  Ian stepped into the receiving room at the funeral home. A simple oak casket sat at the head of the room, and flowers covered almost every available space. Three dozen long-stemmed black roses were arranged with baby’s breath in a crystal vase near the casket. The card read Rest in peace. The envelope was blank. He carefully placed it in his suit pocket.

  He rehearsed specific roles with his family, the Paulsen family, and Sophie. They needed to appear in mourning for their beloved, but they were also there to flush whoever was behind Cassie’s first attack into the open.

  Sophie, with Monique’s help, applied her mascara to run when she sniffled. “I can’t believe after all she went through; she’s gone. She finally had her chance at love. Ian treated her like she deserved, and she’d put all that vileness behind her. Dammit, she was moving on.” Her voice was loud enough for many to hear. The first seed was planted.

  Luke pressed his hand to Sophie’s back when the Marshalls approached. Claudia Marshall hugged Rachel. “We just needed to come. Cassiopeia was a lovely young woman. In fact, I wished she had a chance to speak with our son again, but we
all saw her feelings for Ian. How’s he doing?”

  Rachel dabbed her face with a tissue. “Look at him. That poor man…he sleeps with her journal. It’s all he has left of her. It was pure luck that she left it by the pool the day of the explosion. Even the storm didn’t damage it too severely.”

  “That’s so sad.” Claudia turned to her husband. “Alex, let’s go pay our respects.”

  The stoic Paulsen sons, dressed in their uniforms, stood in the lobby. It was surreal to Ian that all these people cared about Cassie and her family enough to share their pain. He hoped people would understand the deception when the truth was revealed.

  Frank gasped when Greg Wilds walked in, and Christian approached him. “What are you doing here? You lost that privilege with the way you treated her.”

  Wilds held up his hands. “I don’t want any trouble, Christian. I just want to say goodbye. I regretted little in my life, but I never wanted to hurt Cassie.”

  Christian wanted to swing at him, but Caleb and Sean stood by Christian’s side.

  Noah stepped in front of Wilds. “There’s not going to be a scene. Say goodbye and get out of here.”

  Ian and Kieran stood together in front of the casket, Ian maintaining a protective hand on the wood. “I miss her so much. We only had a short time together. Cassie was so sick, but all she wanted was a fresh start. She had some answers, and we were together. In five seconds, she was gone.”

  Kieran placed a stabilizing hand across his brother’s back. Anger spilled all week while the news speculated that he was working on a hostile takeover. The news networks refused to give up their source.

  Ian noted Wilds from across the room. “Let’s see where this goes.”

  Wilds waited his turn to approach the casket. Ignoring Kieran and Ian, he knelt before her. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I was a giant ass. I resented your presence on my team, but please hear me. I never wanted you to get hurt. I know I said terrible things to you, and I was a jealous fool, especially when I saw you that night with Ian. Well, none of it matters now. Be at peace, Princess. I called you that because you were one—a true regal beauty.”