Exposing Ethan (Cassidy Kincaid Mystery Book 4)

get to make new ones,” Emily said.
Cassidy imagined herself inspecting rows of shiny new vehicles while a salesman in a brown suit yammered on about the qualities of each model. But behind the dread of such an encounter, Cassidy felt a tiny thrill. A new car to match her new life as a professor, as an expert TV anchors sought to interview. She saw herself lifting a surfboard from the roof or sliding a set of skis into the rack. And then she remembered Bruce’s bare torso framed in the space between the SUV doors while he tied down the surfboards.
Cassidy realized that Emily had been talking. “Sorry, what?”
“Are we still on for seven-thirty?” Emily repeated.
“Yeah, though Quinn won’t be there. I think he has a girlfriend.”
“No way,” Emily said.
“Okay, maybe not a girlfriend, but someone steady. I’ve barely seen him, and he’s been out late a lot.”
“Good for him,” Emily said. “We all deserve to have someone, right?”
Cassidy said goodbye, then settled into the drive.
After she filled up Quinn’s gas tank, parked the car in the garage, and carried the card and her wildflower guide upstairs, she showered and dressed. She shot Quinn a text as she was dashing down the stairs.
Cassidy typed: Do I at least get to meet her?
Meet who?
Whoever is keeping you from me.
Nobody will ever keep you from me, sis.
Will you at least stop by tonight? She typed. You can bring her.
Maybe.
A ten-minute walk later she arrived at the local fish taco hangout, the refreshing evening breeze cooling her skin. Emily sat at one of the coveted outdoor tables, scrolling her phone, but jumped up to hug Cassidy.
Cassidy squeezed her back. “Am I late?”
“No, I was able to catch the earlier train.”
“I could have at least picked you up downtown.”
“Nah,” Emily said, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. “I had a good book to read.”
They went inside the tiny eatery and ordered, then returned to the outside table nestled between two flowering shrubs. With the sun so close to the horizon, a soft, hazy light lingered, though soon they would be eating by streetlight.
Cassidy asked about her work at the Lab and life in Pleasanton, reading from Emily’s body language and word choice that she was proud of her accomplishments yet maybe a little bit lonely.
“How about that mountain biking club you joined?” Cassidy asked as their food arrived.
“It’s been too hot to ride lately, but I joined their fall trip to the Canyonlands,” Emily said, popping a French fry into her mouth and reaching for the ketchup.
“Didn’t you go out with one of the organizers?” Cassidy asked, trying to remember the name: Steven, or Stuart.
Emily rolled her eyes. “Turns out he’s married.”
Cassidy’s mouth hung open.
“To a lesbian. They don’t want to get divorced because of the kids, so just see other people.”
Cassidy shot her friend a look. “That’s messed up.”
“I know, right?” Emily bit off the end of another French fry. “Oh my god these are good. Totally worth the hour-and-a-half train ride.”
Cassidy took another bite of her taco.
“Okay, girl, enough about me. You’re the one leading the exciting life these days. You doing okay?”
Cassidy hadn’t given her friend a full account of the warehouse. Even when she replayed the events in her head, they didn’t seem real.
“I got to surf today,” she said instead.
Emily’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, fun. How were the waves?”
Cassidy shared the highlights from Fort Point, including the tricky paddle out and the steep drop. She avoided describing the weird vibe she’d felt from Bruce, and the way seeing him half-dressed created a strange feeling in her stomach.
“Bruce was there?” she asked, sipping her beer. “I thought you said he was going to disown you.”
“He was definitely mad,” Cassidy said, remembering the many tense voicemail messages she had played in her Hawaii hotel room. “But I don’t know, once I agreed to testify, he was okay. He said he knew I was just doing what I thought was right. And that I was lucky.”
“I’ll say,” Emily said, her eyes narrowing.
“Well, not just that I didn’t end up hurt, but that I didn’t compromise their investigation. They’re building a case.”
“Do you think you helped them, with your interview?”
“We’ll see,” Cassidy said with a shrug, remembering Bruce’s explanation of how federal cases were different from the ones tried by local law enforcement. “The FBI has to present their case first to the federal prosecutor before they can move forward with arrests. I get the feeling they still have a long way to go.”
From her pocket, Cassidy’s phone buzzed. Thinking it was Quinn, she slid it out to answer, hoping he was going to stop by after all.
“You okay?” Emily said, frowning.
Cassidy realized she must have frowned. “Yeah, it’s Bruce.”
“Answer it. It’s okay,” Emily said.
Her stomach did that weird jolt again as she swiped the screen.
“Have you bought your flight yet?” Bruce asked, his voice tense.
Emily’s eyes filled with concern.
Cassidy avoided Emily’s concerned look by focusing on dipping a French fry in sauce. “Yeah. Tomorrow at noon. Why?”
“Because Special Agent Harris wants you to come in.”
“Oh,” Cassidy replied, shifting her position to face the street.
“And Cassidy, you may want to keep that return ticket date open, because I’m afraid what she wants you to do might keep you here for a few more days.”
“Bruce,” Cassidy said sharply, dropping her French fry. “I have a life to get back to, remember? I start teaching in three weeks. I don’t have my lab ready. I’m not even moved into my office. I have graduate students coming, a syllabus to create, supplies to order.”
“I know,” Bruce said. “And I’m sorry. I don’t like it, either, but I was overruled.”
Cassidy nearly screamed in frustration—great, someone else who fails to protect me. “I’ve told you all I know, okay? I don’t see what a few more days of talking is going to accomplish.”
“She doesn’t want to talk, Cass,” he said, sounding anguished. “She wants to send you in.”
Her frustration boiled over. “Bruce, this is making no sense!