Chapter Nineteen
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F or the first time in almost a week, Cassie slept straight through until morning. She woke when her phone alarm went off, slightly disoriented until her brain clicked into gear as the hotel room came into focus.
Then she thought of having to face Schumacher again. The way she’d left things with Tristan last night. She groaned, closing her eyes and burying her face in her pillow.
The only other man who’d really stood up for her before had been her ex-patrol partner, Dane. And her old chief, to some extent, during the subsequent IA investigation. Aside from that, she’d always had to defend herself and fight her own battles, and she’d learned to be okay with that.
With Tristan, it was different. The way he’d defended her last night, unafraid to get physical with their client to protect her even though it would likely have repercussions with management at CPS, had touched her deeply in that secret place she kept locked away from everyone but Bristol.
It was getting harder and harder to keep her walls up around him.
She got in the shower, stood there letting the hot water pound down on her head and shoulders for a while before washing her hair and the rest of her.
Putting on her dress pants and blazer felt a little like putting on armor.
When she was in professional mode, it was easier not to let things bother her.
She texted Tristan. I’m up and at ’em. You ready to roll?
I’ll bring him down. Meet you at elevator bank.
His response bordered on abrupt. For a moment she considered asking if he was angry about last night, then rolled her eyes at herself. She didn’t do that kind of shit anymore. Because she wasn’t responsible for other people’s actions or emotions, let alone a grown-ass man’s.
She was, however, responsible for her own. That was on her.
So she had to ignore—or preferably stop—these intensifying feelings for Tristan.
Yeah, good luck with that , a little voice whispered in her head.
She packed her overnight bag and made her way down to the underground parking to bring the SUV around to the elevators. I’m in position , she texted Tristan, and received a thumbs up.
On our way down.
How is he? she asked. He’d consumed at least a bottle of vodka last night. She was surprised he was even awake.
Rough.
Good, she thought with a smirk she wasn’t entirely proud of. Maybe Schumacher’s well-deserved hangover would save her from more of his innuendos and advances.
The elevator doors opened minutes later, and Tristan stepped out with Schumacher. Their client had sunglasses on even though they were underground, as if the lights were too much for him. Tristan opened the back and they both got in.
“Morning,” she said cheerfully. “Ready to head to the airport?”
“Yeah,” Schumacher said, slumping back against the seat. “That was a helluva good time last night.” His smug smirk and pointed tone sent a streak of unease through her.
She knew that tone well, had years of experience with it. And it never boded well.
Cassie shared a questioning look with Tristan but didn’t say anything and put the vehicle into drive.
Nobody talked on the forty-minute trip to the airfield.
Schumacher seemed to be asleep, which was a relief.
And he didn’t so much as look in her direction as he boarded the jet and slumped in a seat near the back.
She took it as a win.
She and Tristan spent the short flight back answering messages and emails. The vibe coming from him was a bit cool, but she refused to get all up in her head about it. If he was mad, he could talk to her about it later like an adult.
Almost as soon as they landed, Cassie received a call from Ryder. “You back yet?” he asked.
“Just landed in Portland. Once we hand the client off to his driver, we’ll head back to the coast.”
“Come see me when you get in.”
She frowned. “Something wrong?”
“Need to show you something.”
That sounded...ominous. Something to do with the investigation into the shooting? The dead guy who had planted drugs in her car? Or had Schumacher actually filed an official complaint about last night?
“Okay,” she answered, not wanting to dig for more in front of Schumacher. She looked back at him. He had managed to rouse himself and was getting up. “See you in a few hours.”
“What is it?” Tristan asked from across the narrow aisle when she slid her phone into her pocket.
“Ryder wants to see me in person when we get back.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know.” If it was about Schumacher, Tristan should have been called in too.
He kept watching her. “Want me to come with you?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She didn’t like the feel of this. Schumacher’s smirk was still fresh in her mind. And Tristan had been there for her through everything else the past few days.
A black luxury sedan was waiting for them. As soon as the jet parked and the pilot opened the door, Cassie hurried down the stairs and went to retrieve the company SUV, leaving Tristan to hand Schumacher off to his own driver.
She passed the sedan on her way to get Tristan. He got in beside her and she headed out. Seeing the back of Schumacher should have been more of a relief, but the upcoming meeting with Ryder overshadowed it.
“Is the meeting about what happened last night?” Tristan asked.
“Not sure. But if it is, between the texts he sent me and the security footage from the hallway, he won’t have a leg to stand on. He deserved what he got and then some.”
The drive back to the coast was quiet. She didn’t feel much like talking. There was too much on her mind. After dropping the vehicle off in CPS’s underground bay where it would be taken for detailing, she and Tristan made their way up to Ryder’s office.
“You made good time,” he said, waving them in and pausing to close whatever was open on his desktop.
“I asked Tristan to come if that’s okay,” she said.
“Sure. I needed to talk to him anyway.” Ryder typed something on his keyboard, then swiveled the monitor to face them. “Before I show you this, anything you want to bring up about Seattle?”
“No,” she said, and they both shook their heads. She’d dealt with men like Schumacher plenty of times and didn’t feel the need to make a big deal out of this incident.
“I got this footage from the hotel this morning.” Ryder started the video. It was from a camera in a hallway. “This was recorded at just before midnight.”
Cassie watched blankly as a woman walked into view. Tall, slender, short black hair, wearing black dress pants and a black leather jacket. It looked like her, but she’d gone to her room at ten-thirty and hadn’t come out until morning.
The woman knocked on a door. Schumacher answered, still in his underwear. He leered and smirked in the direction of the camera, then let her in. The door shut.
Oh, fuck...
Ryder paused the video. “She was recorded leaving forty-five minutes later.”
“That’s not me,” Cassie blurted, her heartrate jacking up. “You can get the key log to my room, I was in there alone—”
“It wasn’t her,” Tristan bit out, raw anger in his tone. “I saw her go into her room ninety minutes before that.”
She wanted to hug him.
Ryder held up a hand and leaned back in his chair. “I know it’s not you,” he said to her, allowing her to breathe again. “Never once did I think it was you, and I don’t need to check your key log to verify that.”
From the back, that woman could have been her twin. It was eerie. “What the hell is going on? Who was she?” For Schumacher to be so petty to go to this length to get back at her? It didn’t make any sense.
“I’ve got Ivy looking into that right now.”
Ivy. That made her feel a little bit better. She was an incredible hacker and rumored to be a former government agent. Maybe even an assassin. Cassie could see it. CPS often hired her for off-the-books consultant work.
“Whoever that was, she looked eerily like me.” It was beyond creepy that someone would go to that length.
“I know.”
“Did Schumacher set this up?” Tristan demanded, saying what she’d been thinking.
“We’re going to find out.” Ryder looked between the two of them. “Anything else out of the ordinary happen last night?”
“Just a minor incident with the client,” she said after a loaded pause.
Ryder raised an inky eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”
“He was drunk,” Tristan said before she could. “So drunk I had to take him up to his room and get him into bed. He’d been making inappropriate comments and passes at Cassie all day, but it was worse after he left the bar last night. We should ask the hotel for footage from earlier that night.”
Ryder’s gaze swung to her. “What happened?”
“He kept texting me while I was driving his friend back to another hotel. Asking me to come see him in his room when I got back. Saying he wanted to apologize in person, get to know me better. He threw in some flattery and innuendos, and when I didn’t answer, told me he was waiting with champagne. ” She shrugged. “Things like that.”
Ryder nodded, jaw bunching. “Send me screenshots of that chain for our records. How did you respond?”
“I ignored him. Never answered.”
“And that was the end of it?”
She opened her mouth to answer but Tristan broke in. “When Cassie got back, he was waiting and came out of his room in his underwear. So I shut him down.”
“Shut him down how?” Ryder asked, anger in his gaze that she was positive wasn’t directed at Tristan.
“I told him enough and pushed him back into his room. He argued. I insisted. He threatened to file an official report with you but finally did as he was told, and Cassie and I both went to our own rooms for the night. Neither of us came out until morning. The key logs and any security footage of the hallway will prove it.”
Ryder nodded. “He didn’t file a complaint with us, but I’ll be removing him from our client list, effective immediately.
And Cassie, I’m more sorry than I can say that you had to deal with that level of inappropriate behavior from a client.
I thought this job would be a break for you.
I wouldn’t have assigned you to his detail if I’d thought he would behave in that manner. ”
“I know you wouldn’t have.” It was a huge reason why she loved her job here so much. The people and the management were amazing and truly cared about their employees.
“But that explains why he didn’t seem surprised to see your look-alike show up at his room,” Ryder continued. “If someone else set this whole thing up, he might have believed it was you if he was drunk enough.”
“He was,” Tristan said darkly.
Ryder nodded and looked at her. “You okay?”
What if it wasn’t Schumacher? What if it was whoever had set up the drug plant, and maybe the shooting too? She felt ill suddenly. Someone had gone to this length to smear her reputation, sabotage her career, or maybe CPS’s reputation. All three?
“No, actually. I don’t think I am.” This was too much. The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.
“I’d be surprised if you were.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Take a few more days off. I’ll talk to Schumacher personally about this and then work with Ivy. We’re going to get you answers. In the meantime, go home and try to...”
“Relax and take care of myself?” She stifled the urge to laugh.
“Yeah.” He looked at Tristan. “Take her home. Make sure she’s looked after.”
“Will do.” Tristan stood and put a hand on her back when she rose, and she didn’t argue.
She really needed a friend right now.