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“And you think the partner killed Casper,” Dane stated.
“That’s the theory,” Sinclair said. He looked across the table at her. “I’m sorry, Mac. I wanted to tell you. I knew from day one you weren’t involved, but I just couldn’t blow my cover. I’d worked too hard to establish it. You understand, don’t you?”
She nodded but didn’t bother speaking. What could she say? She folded her hands on the table and let out a breath. “So, what do you want from me?”
Sinclair took another quick sip of his beer and then put it down on the table. “I need to know what you know. Obviously, something’s making Casper’s bosses nervous. I need to know what that is.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, me, too.”
Sinclair frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means I have no clue why those assholes tried to kill me. None.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Dane finally removed his hand from Mac’s leg. He could tell she was struggling by the tension in her expression. The revelations were coming fast, and she was getting knocked sideways, not unlike being blown up earlier, only psychologically.
“I don’t understand,” Sinclair said. “How can you not know?”
She snorted. “Shocking, isn’t it? You can imagine how I feel about it.”
Dane stared into the depths of his beer. This wasn’t going the way he’d expected. He wasn’t prepared for the idea that Casper had killed Owen. It hadn’t occurred to him. He still wasn’t sure about it, but it made sense.
“There’s nothing. I don’t know anything. Less than you do.” Mac shrugged. “To be honest, we haven’t been able to figure it out at all. I don’t know anything about Casper and his shenanigans. I haven’t done anything or been anywhere that you haven’t been, or that I haven’t told you about. It’s just one big mystery.”
Dane’s heart contracted just a bit. She was really at a loss, and having this hanging over her was brutal. The fear in her eyes ate him up inside. He did not want her to be afraid. To feel fear. He’d been there. He’d lived in a constant state of fear after his fall. Would Owens try to finish him off? It had crushed his soul. He did not want that for her. He needed to figure this out so she could go back to living a normal life. He wanted to see Mac smile and laugh; carefree and not sad.
Sinclair stared at Mac. “Seriously? You really don’t know?” He looked at Cain and then Dane.
“She really doesn’t know,” Dane confirmed.
“Well, shit. I was hoping you could shed some light on this for me,” Sinclair said.
Mac grunted. “The feeling is mutual. I would love to know what’s going on.”
Sinclair lifted his beer toward Cain. “What can you guys tell me? I know you know more about Owens. Your admiral said as much to my boss, but he couldn’t get into it with me. Said to ask you to explain.”
Cain gave a curt nod to Dane. It was okay to share the story, but Dane wasn’t too keen to just start blathering away. How did they know this guy was legit? How did they know he wasn’t crooked like Casper?
“Because the admiral vouched for him,” Cain said.
Dane wanted to growl with frustration, but he knew Cain was right.
Sinclair looked back and forth between them. “Oh, you’re worried about me?” He cocked his head. “Fair point. I am who I say I am.” He swallowed. “I need you to trust me and tell me what you know, if for no other reason than I got that kid killed, the one who was working in the depot in San Diego.” He swallowed a couple of times. “I told him it would be fine, and no one would know. I gave him my word he would be safe, and now he’s dead. That’s on me. I want to know who killed him, and I want that asshole strung up for his murder.” He rubbed his face.
Dane got it. Guilt was a tough nut to crack. He felt guilty about not pushing Casper to investigate Owens more. If he had, the motherboards might not be missing. Owens’s operation might be shut down and there wouldn’t be all those lives in danger.
He knew it wasn’t directly his fault, just like he was guessing Sinclair knew the kid’s death wasn’t really his fault. But Dane also knew he would carry the guilt of Owens's death with him for the rest of his life and by the look on Sinclair’s face, the kid's death would haunt him as well.
“We were on a stakeout on a beach on the North Shore,” Dane started. He told Sinclair what they saw and what they knew. It took a while, and when he’d finished, Sinclair immediately flagged down the waitress and asked for another round.
“So, where do we go from here?”
“If you can locate Probert, maybe we can figure out who’s behind all this. He’s the guy that set up the bomb in Mac’s place, or at least we think he is,” Dane suggested.
“Agreed. I’ve got my NCIS colleagues looking for him, aside from myself, and a couple of CGIS people. The problem is no one can find him. He’s gone to ground. And for a small island, there are a shit ton of places to hide on Oahu, not to mention all the other islands. If he hopped a boat, he could be anywhere by now.”
“Try Kauai,” Dane offered.
