Daring Deception (Off The Grid - FBI #9)- Barbara Freethy Page 0,2
she knew nothing about them. Marian was more than capable of handling the ceremony. But it still felt wrong for no one from the family to be there.
Still debating, she kept on walking. When she got to the front of the new building, which sat on a hilly rise with a perfect view of the sea, she paused, feeling proud of the new center. It would house four classrooms, three labs, a study lounge, and a small auditorium. The center wouldn't make up for the questionable business choices her family had made in the past, but it was a good move in the right direction.
She walked up the steps and opened the front door, stepping into the foyer. There was a table set with empty champagne glasses for the reception. Everything felt new: the floors polished, the walls artfully decorated, and the air clean and crisp. There was a distant murmur of conversation, probably coming from a floor up, but there was no one in sight. She stepped into the study lounge, which was also a library. It was impressively filled with an array of books.
Walking over to the nearest shelf, she ran her fingers down the spine of a new textbook. She'd always loved to read and to write, which was why she planned on being a journalist. She had a lot of questions, and that seemed to be the best way to get them answered.
The sound of ticking drew her attention to the wall, but she didn't see a clock.
She just heard a tick, tick, tick. An eerie feeling shot down her spine.
It suddenly felt too quiet.
She turned toward the door, but before she could take a step, a thunderous blast lifted her off her feet and threw her against the shelves behind her. The ceiling and walls collapsed around her.
She screamed as she put a protective hand against her stomach, in one last desperate attempt to save herself and her baby…
Chapter One
Present day…
* * *
Dark storm clouds rolled in off the ocean and an icy chill followed Special Agent Caitlyn Carlson through her four-mile run from her LA apartment to the Santa Monica pier and then home again. She couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding shadowing her steps, and that annoyed her. She and her team had just wrapped up a three-month investigation that had taken down a dangerous cult leader and saved the lives of dozens of young women. She should be happy and relaxed.
But it was late March, and that had never been her favorite month. It reminded her of the terrible memories from the weeks she'd spent in the hospital one spring a long time ago, and the pain that had stayed with her for years after that.
Ten years, she thought, as she headed into her apartment for a hot shower.
It wasn't an anniversary she wanted to celebrate. Sometimes it felt like a long time ago; other times it felt like yesterday. But she was no longer a twenty-one-year-old college student; she was a thirty-one-year-old FBI agent. She was living a completely different life, one that was extremely satisfying. She needed to keep the past in the past.
She showered and dressed, then jumped into her car and headed to work, wondering where her next assignment would take her. They were having a team meeting at nine to discuss their ongoing cases and which investigations needed more manpower. She was looking forward to digging into something new.
She had just pulled into the underground garage when her phone buzzed with an incoming call from her mother. Frowning, she sent the call to voicemail. She rarely spoke on the phone with her mom. Occasional texts were her preferred method of communication. A text gave her the opportunity to learn what her mother wanted so she could figure out the best way to say no.
She was fairly certain that this morning's call was regarding the Carlson Foundation Gala to be held Sunday night in San Francisco. It was an event that had always meant a great deal to her family and raised vital money for many nonprofit organizations. She'd gone every year except for one when she was in London on a case, but she didn't want to go this year. They'd moved the event from its traditional May date to March, and this was the time of year when she preferred to hunker down and not socialize with anyone, especially those people who would remind her of the past.