28. CARSON

I’ve never been one to believe in anything I couldn’t see. I’m a scientist through and through: you better be able to prove anything you expect me to believe, or you run the risk of having your argument systematically dismantled.

Needless to say, I don’t believe in any New Age nonsense. Nothing drives me up the wall like people who talk about how everything is connected, claiming that “quantum physics proves it.” Just don’t get me started.

But I just can’t ignore this anymore: it’s happened too many times. Something extraordinary is definitely going on here. I mean, it’s almost enough to make a die-hard skeptic believe in the concept of fate.

Cassie is obviously getting used to it, too. We’re at Holeo’s, a little donut place on the waterfront. It’s the fifth time this week that we’ve randomly run into each other while I was tracking the quarry.

“You still love chocolate, I see.”

Cassie turns and smiles sheepishly at me through the rim of dark brown around her lips.

“Please tell me I don’t have donut icing all over my face,” she says. “Even if I do, please tell me that I don’t.”

“You don’t have donut icing all over your face,” I lie, handing her a napkin. She wipes her lips and tosses the smeared paper into the trash.

I’m here because I managed to come up with three likely suspects via my computer program. One is an FBI agent currently on a sabbatical from teaching at Quantico, one is a retired Army intelligence major, and the third is an analyst with a defense contractor in Iraq, home for six weeks vacation. Any of those would be a perfect cover for a black ops agent.

All of them are from the south, though I haven’t been able to determine whether they graduated from any of the military colleges. Those records aren’t easily accessible to the public, and I’m not about to hack them. That would be cheating. And, more to the point, illegal.

None of them are here right now, unfortunately. This is turning out to be more frustrating that I would have thought possible. The upside, of course, is that none of my competitors is any further ahead than me.

I hope.

“It’s almost eerie,” Cassie says, shaking her head. “You know me – peer-reviewed evidence to the core. But I mean, come on. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stalking me.”

I’m stalking someone, but it’s not her. Although of course I’m not about to tell Cassie that. This situation is already fucked up enough as it is.

“Hey,” I say. “I could say the same thing. Anybody who knows me knows Dino’s coconut caramel is my only weakness.” I frown. “Don’t tell Matthias.”

Her laughter at our running joke is like a wind chime on the soft breeze coming off the river. It’s a welcome respite from the heat of the day. Summer has been a scorcher so far this year, and there’s no relief in sight. Especially when I’m sitting across from Cassie.

Our eyes meet for a moment and suddenly I’m locked there like a magnet. Everything about her is perfection: the curves under her halter and shorts threaten to make me hard right here in the middle of the street. My mind flashes back to our encounter in the coatroom, just like it has every night since as I lie awake in my bed, trying to make the tent under my sheets go down.

There’s only one way to do that solo, unfortunately.

“Do you have time to sit?” I ask, waving at a small metal table and chairs. It’s the best way to hide my erection.

“A few minutes, yes.”

Her shorts follow the curve of her buttocks perfectly, allowing just a hint of ivory skin to peek out underneath the fabric. Not that I’m looking.

I take a bite of my cone and try to act casual.

“How’s the capital raise going?”

“Good,” she says. “Another few days and I should have all my ducks in a row.”

“That’s great. What kind of timeline are you looking at for construction on the new place?”

“As soon as possible. I’ve got a company out of Long Island lined up. They just need the green light on funding.”

“And Tricia is ready with the recipes?”

“She will be. She says hi, by the way. She totally thinks you hung the moon.”

I smile. “She seemed like a nice girl.”

“She’s the best friend I ever had,” she says. Her eyes lock on mine again. “Except you.”

That’s it, I have to say it. I’ve avoided it every other time, but not anymore.

“What’s going on with us, Cassie?”

She looks away, her cheeks suddenly pink.

“I’m sorry about the other day with your friend,” she says. “I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have said we were dating. That was presumptuous.”

“Things have been pretty weird since that night at the museum.”

“My life is just really complicated right now. I – I want us to get to know each other again. But it’s going to take some time.”

I nod. Every time we talk like this, it’s like the Chase just flies out the window and Cassie is all I care about.

“I get that this deal is very important to you,” I say. “Maybe I could get in on – ”

“No!” she says, eyes wide. “This is something I have to do on my own. I have to prove that I can, to myself and my father.”

That doesn’t surprise me. To call Cassie’s dad overbearing would be like calling Justin Bieber a singer. It gets the basics right, but it misses the magnitude. Besides, I don’t blame her for not wanting to take the easy route – my money. Hell, it only makes me respect this amazing girl even more.

But still, I want to help.

“What about this,” I say. “You come over to my place for dinner and we can go over your business plan. I’ve got some experience in that department. I might have some insight that you and Miranda haven’t considered.”

“I – I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

There’s that uncomfortable look again. This is so frustrating! What isn’t she telling me?

“Why not?” I ask. “It’s just dinner. That’s not unusual for people who are supposedly dating, is it?”

My voice comes off snider than I want it to, and suddenly Cassie is getting up from the table.

“I have to go,” she says, throwing her purse over her shoulder.

She won’t look me in the eye.

“Cassie, I’m sorry, let’s – ”

“I can’t. I have to go.”

She strides off toward the piers, disappearing into the crowds wandering by to take advantage of the breeze on a hot afternoon. In less than a minute, I’ve lost sight of her entirely.