Shakes took over her body as her mind flashed like a camera: a floral bed, Robby forcing himself on her, Sebastian sticking a needle in her arm. “Oh God—it was them.” She flailed her arms as more vivid snapshots of that night bombarded her. Cassie tried to flee, but her legs were rubber and her lips tinged blue with exertion.
Pete’s color reddened, and he lifted his chin in Ian’s direction. “Okay, Detective. We’re done for now.” Ian scooped Cassie into his arms and, with Pete, rushed her to her room.
Ian backed up to let his mom and Pete perform an assessment. Her blood pressure had fallen dangerously low, and she was hyperventilating. “I’m fine. I need a few minutes to catch my breath,” she protested.
“You’re not fine, Cassie; you have no reserves. Every stressor sets you back. You’re only ninety-two pounds,” Pete worried.
Cassie caught her own gaunt appearance in the mirror. “Leave me alone. I hate the feeding tube. It nauseates me.”
Pete’s lips formed a hard line. “We can try a homemade recipe. It’s just until you gain back some of what you lost. Your body needs the energy.”
Ian and Lillian pleaded their case too. When her heart rate started to rise to a dangerous level, Lillian grabbed Ian. “Come with me.” Pete ended the discussion and stayed with Cassie, hoping she would settle down before he needed to drug her.
* * *
Declan entered the pool house as Ian was coming down the stairs. The older man embraced his son. “I’m here to see my future daughter-in-law. I enjoyed our walk. I was hoping she would want to do it again.”
“We aren’t engaged, Dad. We only had one real date,” he sounded upset.
“Ask her out. Son, look at this place. Take her here on a date. No doctor stuff, just spend time together.” Ian looked a million miles away. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s so frail. Detective Blake questioned her again, and I think she had a flashback—the fright in her eyes. She remembered Bynum was the second attacker, but again, why? Bynum grew up with Whitman. She was Whitman’s fiancée.”
They walked into the kitchen, and Lillian poured three cups of coffee. “We’ll keep trying to get more calories into her. It’s slow going. I'll make sure Stephanie and Hunt are notified about the flashbacks. Maybe Cassie will bring them up with you.”
“Are you getting anywhere on anything else?” Declan pulled up a stool.
“Yes. Just not fast enough. The DNA can’t come back any sooner. The more we look at it, the more convoluted it becomes. Dad, what do you know about Mark Devereaux and EAF?”
Declan pulled on his chin. “You remember, Lil. It was ‘poor little rich girl loses family.’ Rachel Paulsen and Devereaux were the public faces for the media.”
“Remember the speculation about whether the stock value would drop? He was a little too haughty for me. I also remember that horrible picture of Christian and Caleb shoving media away from a little girl in agony, with tears pouring down her cheeks as they carried her off a medevac plane.”
Ian looked at his parents in disbelief. “Who leaked her location?”
Declan sipped from the mug. “What’s your gut tell you?”
“I think her ex and his family are neck-deep. If the press ambushed that arrival, it makes me think, more than ever, Devereaux is involved. Did my people speak with you?”
“Smart kids. Dr. Liukin has some legal wiggle room. She put an order through the system. I checked the time, and it was after Martin crashed. If she had a hand in the accident, she didn’t make contact through the system. Have you checked her call log? You need to know who she called after the second order,” Declan said.
“There’s nothing in her logs. She probably has a burner phone. We’re trying to get eyes on her, but she hasn’t been back to work since the bombing. We can’t find her.
“They think Cassie knows something that’s worth killing her over. I also think she remembers what happened to her. When it’s time to execute a plan, we have one shot at them. Cassie needs us to do this by the book.”
Lillian wrapped an arm around her son’s shoulders. “She’s safe here. You have the time to find the answers.”
“I hope you’re right, Mom. There’s an awful lot of money out there trying to prove you otherwise.”
* * *
Declan Chase knocked on her door. “Hi, Cassie.”
“Admiral Chase,” Cassie said from her bed.
His dimples showed as he smiled. “Declan. I thought we put that to rest.” He handed her a mug of her favorite tea.
“Thank you, Declan.”
