She felt better once they emerged onto Water Street and made their way toward the river. All around them, families were battling dripping ices, while couples strolled hand-in-hand window shopping. She was glad the secretary issued her warning to her detail because Agent Caracas hovered beside Quinn, seeming to pay more attention to her than the woman he was charged to protect.
“What are we looking for?” he asked.
Quinn didn’t take her eyes off the crowd. “I’ll let you know when I see it.”
“So what gives between you and Inspector Gadget?”
She jerked her head around to glare at him. “Inspector Gadget?”
“Segar. The Boy Genius. The guy plays with computers all day. I mean, how sexy is that?”
As much as she wanted to shoot the Neanderthal in the bullocks, she needed him in case things went south later on.
“Very sexy,” she replied before returning to scouring the faces among the pedestrians.
He was blessedly silent for several moments before he spoke again. “You’re not the secretary’s niece, are you?”
She grinned slyly rather than confirm or deny his question. The two women might not be related, but Quinn felt a remarkable kinship with Secretary Lyle. Maybe it was the similar life experiences or the passion for their jobs they shared. Quinn suddenly realized she had tremendous respect for the other woman and what she must have gone through to get where she was today. What she had given up. Not only that, she was grateful for the insight into her mother’s past. The awareness made her even more determined to secure her mother’s future.
“We have an hour to kill before we meet our friends. Let’s go get tickets for the Capitol Wheel. I’d love to get a view from up top.” The secretary led the way toward the pier.
The sun was setting, turning the night sky into a kaleidoscope of purples and pinks. Children holding glow sticks ran along the shoreline in front of a giant sculpture of a man awakening from being buried in the sand. A row of beached Jet Skis formed a jagged line between the pier and the sandy shore. Quinn pulled the phone from her pocket and snapped a few photos. Then, while Caracas purchased four tickets for them to ride the Ferris wheel, she carefully used the viewfinder to take in every aspect of their surroundings.
“Segar has a berth at the end of the second row,” the secretary relayed to her. “He’s a few minutes out.”
“No sign of Alexi?”
“Not yet.”
She relaxed when the ticket handler exchanged a knowing nod with the secretary as they boarded their gondola. The idea of leaving Ben alone on the ground was unnerving, but she felt better knowing Adam’s team had managed to fan out within the harbor. The door closed behind Agent Caracas preventing any other passengers from joining them. They spread out among the two bench seats.
The secretary immediately got on the phone. “Talk to me, Agent Lockett.”
The Ferris wheel began to creep up toward the now dark sky. Quinn did her best to scope out the pier, but with night descending, it was nearly impossible to decipher the white hats from the black hats.
“Relax,” the secretary advised. “Ronoff hasn’t even left his yacht yet. We have a few minutes to assess the landscape and figure out the best place to wait. There’s a bar adjacent to the pier. It’s probably best if I watch from there. You and Agent Caracas can take a moonlight stroll along the docks when Ronoff gets close.”
Quinn nodded.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you with just one agent,” Caracas argued. “It’s against protocol, ma’am.”
“I appreciate your devotion to duties, Agent Caracas. But the CAT team will make sure I’m covered. Your job is to keep Agent Darby from harm.”
The agent donned a dumbfounded look. “Agent Darby?”
“Presently with Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Service.” Biting back a smug smile, Quinn extended her hand. “A pleasure working with you this evening.”
“I did not see that coming.” Agent Caracas shook her hand.
Secretary Lyle chuckled quietly then took another call.
“Understood,” she said before hanging up.
With the exception of the music being piped in, the gondola was quiet for the rest of their ride. Presumably, all four were pondering the logistics and potential risks. Quinn definitely was. Just as they neared the dock, she spied two tandem Jet Skis approaching from the direction of Alexi’s yacht.
“There.” She discretely pointed just as the cell phone in her back pocket rang.
“Hey there, gorgeous. Uncle Adam here.”
Quinn smiled. “Hey yourself. Our guests are on their way.”
“Looks like it. The Boy Genius would rather you’re not on that part of the deck when our friend arrives.”
“Copy that. I was planning to check out the boats anyway.”
“Let me know if you find anything you like.”
Adam clicked off before Quinn got the chance to tell him she was more worried about finding something she didn’t like.
“Watch your step.” Agent Caracas was all business as they exited the gondola.
Sensing his tension, she slipped her arms through his.
“Relax and be vigilant. You Secret Service agents have the best eyes in the business. Rely on your instincts now.”
“Still don’t want to tell me what or, better yet, who we’re looking for?” he asked quietly.
“Honestly, I have no idea.” She patted his arm. “But I’m confident we’ll sort it out.”
They strolled the docks of the marina in silence, both on the alert for anything out of the ordinary. A cool breeze blew in off the river. Strings of patio lights illuminated the wooden walkway between the boat slips. She was relieved not to see people enjoying the evening from the deck of their boats. Too many eyes and even more potential collateral damage.
As they made their way along the last wharf where the Seas the Day was docked, Ben emerged from the aft deck. Her stomach seized with worry. Caracas’s hold tightened on her arm.
“Behave,” she hissed.
Ben’s step faltered slightly at the sight of them arm-in-arm. A low growl escaped his throat. She was ready to whisper a few words of encouragement to Ben when they passed, but Caracas beat her to the punch.
“I’ve got her six,” he murmured. “Go take care of business.”
With a slight nod, Ben hurried on his way.
“Thank you.” She gave his arm another squeeze.
“Yeah, yeah,” the agent mumbled.
They reached the end of the wharf and turned around. Her heart beat faster at the sound of Alexi’s Jet Skis roaring up to the pier. She tried to hurry their steps but Agent Caracas held her back.
“You’re not to be seen, remember?”
She sighed with frustration just as a familiar scent wafted under her nose. It took her a second to place it before realizing it was a men’s cologne. Exactly like the distinct one worn by her handler. She glanced furiously around her, but it was no use. The smell was already gone.
*
The sight of Caracas with his paws all over Quinn sent Ben’s blood pressure skyrocketing north. The sight of Ronoff strolling along the pier as if he owned it nearly had his BP in orbit. He took a few deep breaths and fell into step twenty meters behind the Russian. Ronoff zigged and zagged his way around the crowds, twice bumping into people as he did so. Ben wondered if Ronoff was drunk. Or just odd. Like the guy walking beside him holding an umbrella on a clear evening.