Daring Deception Page 21

  "I don't believe he was lying about the blackmail or what Wyatt and Lauren did to draw me away from the event. It makes a lot of sense as to why no one was willing to speak up against Donovan."

  "Well, I still want to interrogate each and every one of them."

  He gave her a small smile. "I'm sure you'll get your chance."

  "Oh, I will," she vowed. "But you're right. Allison is a priority. She was closely tied to Kevin and now he's dead. She's either dead, too, or she had a hand in it." She blew out a breath. "Thanks for getting all of that out of Justin."

  "I had no idea when I contacted him that he had such significant information."

  "It was a good call."

  He gave her a searching look. "I'm sure that wasn't easy for you to hear."

  "That Wyatt and Lauren saved you but gave no thought to me? I don't feel great about it, but I don't know why I'm even a little surprised. I always thought there was something suspect about Lauren's story. Now, I know it for sure. She will pay for her involvement. I can guarantee you that."

  "I do not doubt you at all."

  She put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, a new surge of anger fueling her determination. She might have a few more answers about the past, but she still needed the complete story, the whole truth. Her payback would come later. She needed to catch whoever had taken up Donovan's plan and made it even worse. She couldn't allow anyone else to die.

  Allison lived in a studio in the Seaview Apartments that consisted of two buildings, each one housing four apartments: two units on the first floor, two on the second.

  As Caitlyn pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine, she said, "It looks like we'll be taking another walk down memory lane." She'd lived at Seaview her senior year, and it was where she and Quinn had spent much of their time together. "I always knew we would have to go back in order to go forward. I knew it the instant that second bomb went off." She let out a sigh. "It looks just the same."

  "When was the last time you were here?"

  "The morning before the first bomb went off."

  "You never returned to the apartment?"

  "No. My parents took me straight home after I got out of the hospital. They sent someone to the apartment to clean out my things. There's actually a box in my old bedroom at my parents' house that has a few of your belongings in it."

  "Like what?"

  "Your Coldplay T-shirt."

  He gave her a faint smile. "I gave that to you. It was your favorite shirt to sleep in."

  She remembered that all too well. "Your cologne is in there, too, some of your books, a couple of CDs—I should get it for you sometime."

  "Don't bother. Just throw it away." He gave her a quizzical look. "I'm surprised you haven't done that already."

  "I moved out of my parents' house about a year after you left, and I didn't take much with me." She paused, her gaze moving back to the Seaview Apartments. "We had a lot of good times in this building." It was where they had fallen in love, where they had made love for the first time, and then spent every single night after that wrapped in each other's arms. "I didn't think we'd ever end." She cleared her throat. "This isn't getting us anywhere. We should go inside."

  "For what it's worth, Caitlyn…"

  "Yes?"

  "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I know it wasn't the same for you. But that's the truth."

  She couldn't say the same. She was touched by the sincerity in his eyes, but she didn't want to get into another emotional discussion now. "Let's go find Allison."

  He nodded, and they got out of the car. Allison lived on the first floor of building A, and since the front door was ajar, they had no problem getting inside. Her apartment was at the end of the hall. Caitlyn knocked on the door, hearing nothing but silence. In fact, the entire floor felt very quiet for a Saturday afternoon, but then a lot of students had left for the weekend, eager to get away from the fear of another bomb going off.

  "I don't think she's here," Quinn said.

  She opened her bag and took out a small lock-picking device. It took her less than thirty seconds to open the door.

  "I guess we're going in," Quinn said dryly.

  "We are."

  Allison's apartment reminded her of the one she'd lived in on the second floor, although it was smaller and had no view. There was a living room and kitchen with a small café table and then a short hallway leading to a bedroom and bath.

  "Being here feels weird," Quinn commented, as he wandered around. "It feels like your apartment, yet it isn't."

  She moved over to the table where there were stacks of flyers for an upcoming protest in Monterey at a pesticide company. "It looks like they're scheduled to protest at this company on Tuesday morning." She grabbed a flyer, folded it, and stuck it in her pocket to review later. On the desk, she found a calculus textbook and a loose-leaf notebook. She rifled through a few pages, but they were blank. A sticky note pad had a couple of numbers written on the top. One looked like a phone number. She ripped it off and stuck it in her pocket as well. Then she pulled open the top drawer. There were pens and pencils, paper clips, and random other items but nothing noteworthy.

  "I found something," Quinn said, picking up a strip of photos that were on the coffee table. "Holy shit!"

  "What?" she asked, surprised by his reaction.

  "This is Allison, and…I can't believe it."

  She took the photo out of his hand, staring at the guy Allison was with. He was a blond, good-looking man in his early twenties, who reminded her very much of Donovan. "Who is this? How does he look like Donovan?"

  Quinn stared back at her. "That has to be Donovan's brother, Tim Coulson."

  His answer stunned her. "I didn't know Donovan had a brother. How did I not know that?"

  "A half-brother," he corrected. "Donovan and Tim didn't grow up together. They just shared the same mother. Tim had to be at least eleven years younger than Donovan. I think he was the product of the affair Donovan's mother had, and he was born shortly after Donovan's parents divorced."

  "I can't believe I didn't know this," she said, wondering why that information had not been in the FBI file. The investigation had been incredibly sloppy.

  "Donovan didn't see Tim very often, because Donovan and his mother were estranged. But Donovan would take Tim on hiking trips in the summer. I met him on one of those. Tim was about eight. He seemed like a good kid, and he was thrilled to be spending time with his brother." Quinn paused. "I haven't thought about him in years. He didn't even cross my mind when Donovan died. I had a random thought for Donovan's parents at the time, but they really weren't part of his life. Neither was Tim."

  She gazed back at the photo. "It can't be a coincidence that Tim is with Allison."

  "Maybe Lauren introduced them," he said slowly.

  "Maybe she did. And it makes sense that these two siblings of former LNF members might have wanted to follow in their footsteps. They could be working with Lauren. She could be the mastermind. Some of the other former LNF members might be involved as well."

  "I'm going to knock on some doors, see if anyone in the building knows about their relationship."

  "Good idea."

  As Quinn left the apartment, she moved into the bedroom. The bed was unmade. There was trash on the floor. Some of the drawers were empty. When she opened the closet, she saw no sign of clothes, just more evidence that someone had left in a hurry. There were hangers on the floor, a discarded garment bag, and one worn tennis shoe.

  Allison and Tim…she thought with disbelief. Lauren's sister, Donovan's brother, together. And in the photo, they'd looked like boyfriend and girlfriend. But how had Kevin factored into that equation? Maybe they'd been using him all along.

  Her head ached as she searched for answers that felt so close and yet so far away at the same time. She sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted. But she should be feeling energized. She finally had some real clue
s. Allison and Tim had left a lot of things behind. She needed to call Emi, get a forensics team to the apartment. They also needed to start looking for both of them.

  She tried to get her phone out of her pocket, but her vision blurred.

  "Caitlyn?" Quinn's sharp voice rang through her head, and it made the pain worse.

  "Why are you yelling?"

  "I'm not. What's wrong with you?"

  "You have two faces."

  "What the hell?"

  "Now you have three. They're all so handsome."

  Quinn suddenly stood up and moved away.

  "Where did you go?" she slurred. "Now you have zero faces." She fell back on the bed. She was so tired. "I need to take a nap." She felt a hard hand on her shoulder. She wanted to swat it away so she could sleep, but she couldn't seem to move.

  "Caitlyn, wake up. Look at me."

  She blinked her eyes open. "You're back. Why are you spinning?"

  He grabbed her arms and pulled them around his neck. Then he picked her up.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "Out of here. There's some kind of toxic bleach mess in the bathroom."

  "What?" she asked sleepily, her eyes feeling too heavy to keep open. "I am so tired."

  "You have to stay awake. Fight it, babe."

  "Your chest feels so good," she murmured. She'd always loved his chest. So strong and muscular. "I want to feel your skin against mine. Don't you want to feel that, too?"

  "More than anything."

  She frowned as his face spun in front of her once more. She hung on as he seemed to be running somewhere. "Are we in a hurry?"

  "We are."

  "I don't know if it's going to happen, us being together again."

  "Oh, it will happen," he promised her.

  "I want it to, but I don't want it to, you know?"

  "I know."

  "God, your eyes are so blue. I love your eyes. I like the way they darken when we're together." A rush of air hit her face. It pricked at her skin like tiny little knives. "It's freezing," she slurred. "I'm cold."

  "Good. That will help you wake up. It's going to be okay, babe. You'll be all right." Quinn juggled her in his arms as he opened the car door and put her in the front seat.

  "You're so close." She wanted to taste his sexy mouth. "You could kiss me. I could kiss you. It would be so good."

  "It would be, but I have to leave you for a minute."

  "I don't want you to go. I want you to stay forever."

  "I wish you meant that," he said huskily. "I'll be right back. I have to warn people, get them out of the building. Don't go anywhere."

  The door slammed shut. She thought she saw him running. Why was he always running away from her? She couldn't seem to hold on to him. But she shouldn't want to hold on to him. He'd hurt her.

  He'd also made her really, really happy. She'd never been her whole self with anyone but him. She'd always been trying to be someone else. But with Quinn, it had been so real, so intimate, so honest.

  She groaned against that thought. Not honest. He'd left her. He'd lied to her. He'd kept secrets from her. That's what she needed to be thinking about, not all the good stuff. Just the bad stuff.

  But the bad stuff seemed like a long time ago. Quinn was back now. He was a good man. She liked who he'd become. She trusted him again. Was she being stupid?

  No. She wasn't wrong. She couldn't be wrong. She just wished she didn't feel so sleepy.

  Why was she so tired? The question wouldn't let her rest. A chilling cold began to seep into her bones. She blinked a few times, the view in front of her blurry. Where was she?

  More clues began to emerge—the console in front of her, the seat belt around her body. She was in the car.

  She forced her eyes all the way open. Her vision began to clear. She saw Quinn running toward the vehicle. Four people came out of the building after him. They were also running.

  He opened the door and jumped in behind the wheel. "Let's get you to the hospital."

  "What's going on?"

  He gave her a sharp look. "Do you know where you are?"

  "I'm in the car. Why am I not driving? I like to be the driver," she protested.

  "Your head would have to be clear for that, and it's not."

  "Why is everyone running?"

  "There was poisonous gas in Allison's apartment. It made you feel the way you're feeling."

  She suddenly became very aware of the way she was feeling; her head pounding like a jackhammer, and her stomach rolling with waves of nauseousness. She felt like she was awakening from a deep sleep, and the fog was lifting from her brain.

  They'd gone into Allison's apartment. They'd found the photo of Allison and Tim, but she couldn't remember anything else.

  Quinn rolled down the windows in the car as he drove out of the lot. "You need to breathe, Caitlyn. Fresh air. Suck it in."

  "Tell me again what happened."

  "There was a spill in the bathroom—bleach and ammonia…I don't know what else. It looked like someone had been mixing something. The fumes got to you."

  "Why were you all right?"

  "I was across the hall while you were in the bedroom. You inhaled more than I did." He shot her a quick look. "I want to get you checked out."

  "I'm okay. I'm feeling better." While her head was pounding, her other symptoms were starting to recede. "I don't need to go to the hospital."

  "That stuff could have damaged your lungs."

  "My breathing is okay, and the hospital will take too long. Plus, I can't stand being in the hospital. It reminds me of all the weeks I was there before."

  Quinn frowned. "It won't take that long, Caitlyn."

  "I'm fine now. I just need to breathe." She saw the doubt in his eyes. "Really, Quinn. Let's go somewhere else and regroup. I have to call the team."

  "The residents are already calling 911. I got everyone out of the building. The police will be responding soon. There's nothing you need to do right now."

  "That's good. But I don't want to go to the hospital. Please, take me somewhere else."

  His lips tightened as he gave her a hard look. "I should not listen to you. You were out of it a few minutes ago."

  "I'm fine now. Or I will be soon," she amended. "If I feel worse, you can take me in."

  "All right, but if you start to feel sick, you have to tell me, Caitlyn. I mean it."

  "I'll tell you, but the nausea is going away, and so is the headache." Even though she was cold, she was happy to breathe in the crisp, fresh air.

  As Quinn left the Bolton area, he got on the highway heading north away from the city. "I don't want to go to your house," she said. "Or the boat. Nothing tied to you. It's too risky."

  "I know. We'll get a hotel room. At the very least, you should lie down for a bit."

  "All right." Quinn took the next exit, heading toward a nice hotel.

  "Rest and then food," he said, as he pulled into the parking lot. "I don't want you to get hangry on top of everything else."

  She gave him a weak smile. "I have been known to do that."

  "Oh, I know, trust me."

  "I wouldn't mind eating something later. But not quite yet."

  "Got it. You stay here; I'm going to check us in."

  She sat back as Quinn headed for the office. She should probably call Emi, but she wasn't feeling on top of her game yet.

  As she tried to remember everything that had happened, she started hearing words in her head. Had she said those words out loud? Or had she just thought them?

  A wave of embarrassing heat ran through her. Had she told Quinn she wanted to kiss him?

  But she wouldn't have done that. Would she?

  She drew in several more breaths. There was nothing she could do now except hope her thoughts had only been in her head.

  Quinn returned to the car a moment later and opened her door, offering her a hand.

  "I'm okay. I can get out on my own." She felt wobbly, but she was happy that she m
anaged to stay on her feet and not fall into his arms. "See, I'm fine," she said with determination.

  "I can see how hard you're fighting to prove that you're all right," he said dryly. "You just inhaled poisonous air. It's not surprising you feel weak. I'll get the bags."

  He retrieved her roller bag and his duffel out of the trunk and then they walked into the building. She felt a little seasick as the elevator lurched upward but walking down the fourth-floor hallway brought her legs back under her.

  He opened the door and waved her inside. The room was comfortable and clean. There were two queen-sized beds, a TV, and a small table with two chairs. She walked over to the window and saw they had a view of the bay. The sun had set, and a quick look at her watch told her it was almost five. She didn't know where the day had gone.

  "We got a view," Quinn said, as he joined her.

  "Did you request it?"

  "I didn't. Lucky break."

  "Well, we were due for some good luck." She looked into his gaze. "Thanks for getting me out of the apartment. You saved my life and possibly the lives of everyone in that building." She paused. "Did you get any information from the other tenants?"

  "I had an interesting conversation with Marc and Jana, who live across the hall. They told me that Allison changed a few months ago when her roommate moved out, and Tim moved in. They didn't care for Tim. Jana said he was creepy, and there were weird smells and noises coming from their apartment. She saw Tim come in one day with a carton of bleach. She joked that he must have a big spill to clean up, and he just glared at her and said, 'someone will have a lot to clean up.' His reply gave her chills. Marc didn't seem quite as convinced that Tim was evil, but said Tim was an intense guy and that the only conversation they'd had was about protests and disruption being the only way to stop what was happening in the world. He knew they were in an environmental group, but that was it."

  "I wonder if Tim was building bombs in that apartment."

  "It's possible. He was definitely doing something with the bleach. Jana also said she ran into Allison with Kevin one weekend a few weeks ago. Apparently, Tim was out of town at the time. Jana asked Allison if Kevin was her new boyfriend. She was hoping that Allison had replaced Tim. But Allison said no. Kevin wasn't her boyfriend. He was just someone who was helping her get something she needed."