“Your work takes you to some remote places, Dr. Kincaid,” Steve said. “Is your life ever in danger?”
Cassidy’s mind flashed to her escape from Mel’s treehouse during her pursuit for Reeve. “Most of my work doesn’t put me in direct contact with active eruptions. So no, it’s not dangerous.”
“But there are certainly dangerous people in some of these locations. Costa Rica, for example.” Steve’s expression remained open, calm.
A blast of heat seared right up her face. Did he know about Mel and what happened? The news media had hounded her only weeks ago. Were they going to expose her involvement on national television? “I always have a team with me,” Cassidy replied, forcing her voice to keep steady. It was lame but better than saying she knew how to shoot a gun, or how to set off fire alarms.
And then the interview was over, and she was thanking her hosts and they were signing off and a tech was unclipping her microphone. Her two hosts disappeared as if she’d never been there.
“Wonderful to have you on the show, Dr. Kincaid,” a voice said.
Cassidy stood and peered into the shadows outside of the bright light. “Thank you for having me.”
The figure stepped forward, his expensive shoes flashing in the bright lights. His dark suit was tailored perfectly over his trim build. Finally, she saw his face, and although he was still a stranger, she recognized who he was. She knew it from his Nordic features and sharp blue eyes. Izzy’s eyes.
“Pleased to meet you, Dr. Kincaid,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Preston Ford.”
Three
“Mr. Ford,” Cassidy stammered while a million questions bloomed in her brain. “It’s…nice to finally meet you.”
“I heard you were here. I wanted to introduce myself, thank you for your efforts.”
Cassidy wasn’t sure which efforts he meant—educating his viewers on volcano hazards or finding his daughter. She remembered Bruce’s pledge to interview Izzy and wondered if somehow Preston Ford was about to ask her to help him prevent it.
“Your father would be very proud, Dr. Kincaid.”
Cassidy blinked while her mind took a left turn. “Excuse me?”
Mr. Ford’s face brightened, as if he enjoyed unsettling people. “Ethan was in advertising; don’t you think our paths would have crossed?” he said in an almost teasing tone.
“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.” Cassidy’s toes throbbed inside her tight shoes. She could almost feel her flip flops calling to her.
“He’s actually the reason I’m here tonight.”
Cassidy mentally shook her head to clear the incoming fog of sadness this idea brought on. She pictured herself and her father tucked into a cozy booth at a restaurant and his steady eyes lighting up the space while she spent the evening describing her latest projects and goals.
“Take care, Dr. Kincaid,” Mr. Ford said, and stepped to the door on the side of the room, the same one that had swallowed her hosts earlier.
“Nice job, Ace,” Mark said, exiting the production booth. Once at her side, he followed Cassidy’s eyes to where the door was just closing behind Mr. Ford.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“Preston Ford.”
Mark’s eyes widened. “As in network owner, Preston Ford?”
Cassidy started to rub her eyes but remembered that she was wearing mascara.
“And you didn’t introduce me?” Mark teased. “What did he want? I mean, I know you’re a famous geologist and everything, but…”
Cassidy replayed the conversation. “I’m not really sure.”
“Well, let me walk you out,” Mark said.
Cassidy hurried after him, eager to get out of this strange world with its bright lights and people who knew too much.
She picked up her purse from the makeup room, then Mark led her into a hallway. “I’ll send you the link to the show so you can watch it later.”
“Please don’t,” she said. “It was scary enough the first time.”
“You were scared? Well, it didn’t show. And think of the exposure you have now for your work. That seismic scream you recorded before Mount Redoubt blew is freaking cool.”
Cassidy thought back to Steve’s question about dangerous people. Had he been about to unearth her experience in front of millions of people?
At the entry, Mark stooped down to give her a long hug, his beard catching in her hair. “I’ve missed you,” he said, before releasing her.
Cassidy put on a brave smile.
“You around for a while?” he continued, undeterred by her silence. “Let’s get together for beers soon. We still haven’t celebrated your new job yet.”
Cassidy’s gut rolled upside down. Spending time with Mark always made her feel closer to Pete, but it also made her feel like holding onto him and never letting go. “Okay,” she said.
Mark embraced her one last time. Cassidy tried to relax against him while her heartbeat thumped loudly in her ears. Since Costa Rica, she hadn’t let anyone get this close to her.
With a wink, Mark took a step back. Cassidy turned away and pushed through the glass doors as a question bloomed in her mind: would she ever be able to let someone get close to her again, or was the flashback in the Mission District a week ago proof that she would never heal?
She pulled up a rideshare app to request a ride, reminding herself to call the garage in Shasta, California to find out the status of her broken-down car while she waited, noticing a missed call from a number she didn’t recognize.
Her stomach clenched with a flush of nerves. A little more than a week ago, she’d been hounded by the media in connection to Mel’s trial. Was there some new development that was about to bring the media hounds barking all over again? Standing there, sweating in the hot sun, she decided to ignore it and send a text to Bruce instead, letting him know she was leaving the station.
He replied right away. I can’t wait to watch you school those news anchors
Cassidy grimaced. Was he planning to watch her on TV?
She texted: You won’t believe who I saw after
You can tell me about it on the ride to the airport. I’ve got a car coming at five.
Cassidy checked her watch: just after eleven. She gave Bruce a thumbs-up just as her car arrived.
Cassidy slid into the backseat, the space icy from a blasting air conditioner. She collapsed against the headrest and watched the buildings and cars blur as the driver accelerated.
After a deep breath, she dialed the number she’d added to her contacts for Shane’s Automotive. While she waited for Shane to come to the phone, her mind returned to the conversation with Preston Ford. She had wanted to ask about Izzy, even warn him about the FBI’s eagerness for an interview, but instead, she’d been sent down memory lane. How close had her father and Preston Ford been? And what had he meant about her father bringing him to Seattle?
“Shane here,” a melodic voice rang through her phone.
Cassidy identified herself. “The tow job last Sunday?”
“Right, the blown radiator,” Shane said with a sigh. “Engine’s toast, so you can either have a new one installed or I know a wrecker who will take it off your hands for parts.”