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Texas Takedown
Heather Woodhaven
LETHAL SABOTAGEPresenting her research findings at an oceanology conference should be marine biologist Isabelle Barrows’s big break—until she spots two men chasing her. With shadowy assailants on her tail, impressing potential investors becomes the least of her concerns. Especially when the men chase her straight into the arms of her high school crush. Unbeknownst to Isabelle, Matt McGuire still regrets the way they parted. Determined not to repeat past mistakes, Matt vows to keep her safe and make things right. But what good is a second chance when Isabelle’s attackers will stop at nothing to destroy everything she holds dear—her life, her promising career, and any possibility of a happily-ever-after?
LETHAL SABOTAGE
Presenting her research findings at an oceanology conference should be marine biologist Isabelle Barrows’s big break—until she spots two men chasing her. With shadowy assailants on her tail, impressing potential investors becomes the least of her concerns. Especially when the men chase her straight into the arms of her high school crush. Unbeknownst to Isabelle, Matt McGuire still regrets the way they parted. Determined not to repeat past mistakes, Matt vows to keep her safe and make things right. But what good is a second chance when Isabelle’s attackers will stop at nothing to destroy everything she holds dear—her life, her promising career and any possibility of a happily-ever-after?
“He’s getting away!”
He couldn’t call for an ambulance without his phone, which still resided in the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He reached for Isabelle and his eyes focused on the rip in his suit where she’d been stabbed. Matt pulled the jacket back slowly, prepared for the worst.
Instead of blood he only saw fabric. His eyes lifted.
She pressed her hand on her stomach. “It didn’t pierce me. Your jacket... Was there something in the pocket?” Her frown cleared as she pulled out his phone and wallet. Cracks radiated across the screen. In the center of the phone he could see the point of impact. If the blade had hit flesh... He gulped.
Her right hand reached for his wrist.
“Isabelle, you could’ve been—”
“But I wasn’t. You saved my life,” she whispered. Her eyes filled. “He got away with everything. My phone, my wallet, my tablet...it’s all gone.”
He squeezed her hand. “All replaceable.” Unlike her.
Dear Reader (#u8011b9fb-36dd-52d5-8a88-eb1b6ba6abda),
Two years ago, my husband had a work trip scheduled for San Antonio in June. As our twentieth anniversary was fast approaching, my husband’s parents agreed to come watch the children so I could take the opportunity to travel with him. It was such a blessing. I knew Matt McGuire, the final brother, had been working hard as a hotel manager somewhere, waiting for me to tell his story.
While my husband was at his conference, I explored. On the first day, I got lost in a construction area near Hemisfair Park and found myself in an underground grotto with no one around except shadows. This inspired the first chapter. Thankfully, I was in no danger.
After climbing the steps aboveground, a group of nurses attending a conference adopted me until I could get my bearings. I also wanted my characters to get some time to enjoy all the delicious food I experienced on the River Walk. Sadly, those pesky villains wouldn’t allow it. Even thinking about it makes me crave some tableside guacamole.
I’ve had a lot of good times with the McGuire family. I’m glad all four brothers got a chance to find love. I hope from here on out, they can enjoy some family time without danger following them.
I love to hear from readers. Feel free to contact me through my website, WritingHeather.com (http://www.WritingHeather.com). In addition, those who subscribe to my newsletter are occasionally given opportunities to receive advance reader copies of my books.
Blessings,
Heather Woodhaven
HEATHER WOODHAVEN earned her pilot’s license, rode a hot-air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black-diamond ski trail in Aspen and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. She channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.
Texas Takedown
Heather Woodhaven
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
—Matthew 6:21
For Don and Mary. Thank you for cheering me on.
I’m so thankful you welcomed me into your family.
Contents
Cover (#u2723e8c5-d780-50f3-b29c-1c7b95568ce0)
Back Cover Text (#u1fed37e5-d560-513b-999f-6e903ef86b5e)
Introduction (#ued3d90b9-8044-503f-a814-a0d2a707fa1d)
Dear Reader (#u6eb673f2-d9b2-5917-907b-d5b23db7e76b)
About the Author (#uc1280d06-c9e8-5135-937f-87c7b0baa94a)
Title Page (#u29d356cf-4452-5fd4-9b17-93279a808077)
Bible Verse (#u9beb20c8-1e66-5d71-ae1f-3355061c96cf)
Dedication (#uc16ddb39-6635-5c1e-a2d9-00da9d416285)
ONE (#u4de4f727-918f-5918-b2c9-6a38466e4c30)
TWO (#ua342bfe5-6f28-582f-8718-534b77b4ef0a)
THREE (#ub401cb73-63a6-5ee4-923f-7f5843a7a1ee)
FOUR (#u15d99164-9e75-5db8-baec-01bde299b1cc)
FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#u8011b9fb-36dd-52d5-8a88-eb1b6ba6abda)
Isabelle Barrows was hopelessly lost, caught on a winding path bordered by two wooden fences. Signs on either side read Pardon Our Construction. Without the six-foot-high fences, it would’ve been a pretty area with historic homes to view. Too bad she wouldn’t see the result. She’d be back home from the conference within the week.
No wonder the walking feature in her maps application was considered beta because it’d led her on a convoluted route. The still tree branches that hung over the walkway offered her some shade. Sweat trickled off her brow. People had told her humidity in Texas would be intense, but she’d shrugged it off. She lived on the Oregon coast. She knew humidity, thank you very much. How wrong she’d been. Texas humidity was an entirely different beast. The air felt heavy against her skin.
Isabelle exited the app and pulled up a different map of the area. She had to be somewhere near Hemisfair Park and not too far away from San Antonio’s River Walk.
A twig snapped. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. A man in a dark gray shirt and black pants turned the corner. Isabelle smiled, but the man’s steely gaze remained void of emotion as he quickened his pace toward her.
The fences designed to keep tourists safe from construction now seemed the opposite. How fast could she scale one if needed? She lengthened her stride and straightened her spine, hoping to exude confidence.
Her dad had taught her that criminals preferred to avoid confronting sure-footed people. Besides, maybe she misread the man’s intentions, and he was just late for a meeting. Her neck tingled. But should she call the police on instinct alone?
Isabelle lifted her faux leather messenger bag off her shoulder and slipped it diagonally across her torso in case she needed to run or vault a fence. The weight of the laptop inside the bag pressed against her hip, but it wasn’t enough to slow her down.
Up ahead the fences stopped, and the path opened into a park. She pumped her arms, no longer caring how foolish she might look to the man behind her. His breathing reached her ears. He was keeping up with her.
Not a good sign.
Another path intersected diagonally. Up ahead, waiting underneath the shade of a tree, a man in a brown shirt and tan pants straightened. Oh, good. A kind stranger who could help her if she needed it.
Isabelle offered a cursory smile. The stranger narrowed his eyes and strode toward her, exactly as the man behind her had done. A shiver ran down her spine.
She twisted and hustled in the general direction of the tourist area by the River Walk. No matter that it led her away from her own hotel. Her lodging was on the outskirts, away from the attractions. But right now, she wanted to be around people, lots of them.
In late afternoon at the end of August, the temperature and humidity seemed to keep everyone indoors. She scanned her surroundings and saw only trees, park benches and several other paths. Even a street would have been welcome at this point, but she had no idea which direction would lead her to one without taking time to look at a map.
The Mexican Cultural Institute to her left sported a Closed sign, or she’d have darted in there. The area opened slightly, but she was surrounded by more closed buildings on each side except for the stairs leading down, presumably to the River Walk.
She glanced over her shoulder. The men were side by side, walking behind her. They knew each other? Their eyes locked on hers as if homing in on a target.
She pushed off her toes and started to run. They followed suit. She was trapped inside her worst nightmare.
The memory of her dad’s countless air-force lectures moved to the forefront of her mind. “You’ve crashed in enemy territory,” he’d drill. “What’s the first thing you do?”
“Establish and maintain communication with friendly forces, sir,” she’d respond.
Isabelle held down the button on her phone until it vibrated, ready for her command. “Call the police,” she shouted. Her fingers, slick with sweat, tightened around the phone as she pumped her arms.
Her hard-soled flats tapped on the steps. The thin guardrails lined the rock walls on either side of the curved staircase. It sounded like a stampede coming her way as the men’s footsteps echoed off the rock.
She jumped the final three steps onto a thin sidewalk that curved along the water. Except this wasn’t like the rest of the River Walk. It was an artificial cave formation. Stones the size of basketballs were placed strategically throughout the underground pedestrian area.
She sprinted along the canal, pressing the phone against her ear. “Hello?” She hadn’t taken the time to press the speaker function. It didn’t seem worth the two seconds of focus it would’ve taken her to find the right button.
A ringing hit her ears. “Pick up, pick up.”
“What is your emergency?”
“Two men are after me.” She panted.
“What’s your location?”
The area resembled an empty cement cave that opened a short distance ahead. About a block away, another set of curved stairs led to a bridge and what looked like a hotel. “I don’t know. A grotto-looking thing near the River Walk. It’s behind a shiny skyscraper.”
Her lungs hurt from the effort of sprinting and talking. She chanced a look. The men had split up. One man was on the opposite side of the water while the other was behind her. Up ahead, the two sidewalks converged. The truth hit her in the gut. If the man on the other side sped up, he’d be able to trap her. “They’re gaining on me. Can’t you use GPS?”
“Yes, ma’am, but the accuracy—”
Isabelle didn’t take the time to listen. She dropped the phone into the front pocket of her bag but left it on. She couldn’t keep up her speed without using both of her arms.
A few doors and glass windows lined the rock walls. She sprinted to one door, but it was locked. The rest of the windows were dark. All empty. She’d been told this was the slow season, but she’d had no idea it’d be deserted. Her throat burned as she pushed her legs to go faster. The man on the opposite side would beat her at this rate. Her flats barely stayed on her feet as her soles slapped against the concrete.
She rounded the corner and gasped. The sidewalks didn’t simply merge as she thought she’d seen. She would be forced to cross a path surrounded by water to get to the other side, but she had no choice or the man behind her would catch her.
She ran into the middle of the path and froze. One man stood, hands out, ready to grab her, on the other end. The other approached from behind. And on either side of her there was nothing but water.
She was trapped.
The first assailant rattled off a couple of sentences to the other one in a language she didn’t recognize. Her breath caught. What were they planning to do with her? The man in front of her pulled out a shiny knife. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine.
The memory of her dad sitting at the dinner table counting on his fingers played in the back of her mind. “Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape,” he’d rattle off over and over. “Understood, Isabelle?”
She curled her hands into fists and widened her stance. She inhaled and pulled in her core muscles. The reality was, she couldn’t fight two men at once. She glanced at the water. Diving without knowing the depth could be equally dangerous, but what worried her more was the laptop in her bag.
The flash drive doubling as a two-sided jeweled heart around her neck would likely survive with an overnight stay in a bowl of rice, but her laptop wouldn’t fare nearly as well. She’d have come all this way for nothing when Uncle Hank was counting on her.
Her only other choice would be to leap diagonally to the tower of river rocks that held up the ceiling. Around the base of the tower, a rim of cement looked just big enough to get a foothold. If she made it to the tower, she could bypass the intersection of paths and keep going. She inhaled. Even if she made the jump, there was a chance her head would bump into the tower, a painful but not deadly possibility.
She sank her hand into the front pocket of her bag and twisted sideways so she could see both men at once. “Don’t take another step.” Her voice shook, but she could see the uncertainty of whether she had a weapon cross their faces. They remained on either end of the bridged path.
She took advantage of their momentary hesitation and backed up. It was now or never. She needed to soar like a ballerina over the water to the rock pillar. After three steps, she shoved off with her back foot.
Isabelle arched her back and stretched her right leg out. Her foot touched the edge of the cement rim. If she stopped now, her head would slam into the pillar, or she’d slip into the water. She twisted her hips and her left foot made contact for the briefest of seconds, pressing her into another diagonal leap onto the sidewalk.
Her ankle rolled underneath the awkward jump. The messenger bag hit the concrete with a decided crunch. She cried out and dared a look behind her. The men were both past the bridge behind her and were almost at arm’s reach. Small rocks pressed into her hands as she pushed herself upright and sprinted, despite the lightning bolts of pain shooting up her leg.
Escape. She had to escape.
She screamed through the pain. “Help!” Her arms flailed as she pushed her stinging quadriceps to go faster, to keep up with the desire for speed. The sidewalk curved around another brick tower and then the ceiling disappeared. She squinted into the sudden sunlight. There...there in the distance, a boat with its motor running sat in the water.
A bearded man wore a pair of olive-colored overalls—a uniform of some sort. He looked up at her, confusion on his face.
“Help me!” She passed a trash can and flung it down behind her as she kept running. She doubted it would slow the men much, but every second counted. Would she make it to the barge in time? And would it matter?
* * *
Matt McGuire’s heart jumped to his throat. The frazzled woman ran like her life depended on it. She was either mentally challenged or seriously in danger. Either way, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t try to help.
He boosted the motor and closed the distance between them. She glanced behind her and took a flying leap to the barge. She collapsed in a heap. “Drive,” she cried.
At the sight of two men rounding the corner—one brandishing a long knife—he didn’t need to be told twice. He reversed and sped away, pushing the barge to a speed he’d yet to try. He steered it at a sharp curve into the main River Walk loop. A police boat or officers on bicycles had to be somewhere for him to flag down.
The woman rubbed her ankle on the floor of the barge. She seemed okay, though. “Have you called the police?”
“Yes.” Her breathing sounded heavy even over the hum of the motor. She kept looking over her shoulder.
“They can’t get you now,” he said. “So, the police said they were on the way?”
“Um.” She pulled a phone from her bag and held it up to her ear. “Hello?” She frowned. “I can’t believe they hung up on me. I couldn’t run and talk at the same time. I thought they could use the phone locator to find me.”
A few tourists walked past the shops and restaurants, but nothing was hopping yet. In a couple of hours, people would fill the walkways to bursting. “Their response time has gotten much better the past couple of years, but it still takes the police several minutes. I imagine the GPS thing isn’t as accurate as we’d like to think.”
She straightened. “I guess it’s possible I accidentally hung up on them while I ran. I can’t thank you enough for helping me. I think you saved my life.”
While he kept his eyes forward, he noted in his peripheral vision that she seemed quite attractive when not screaming. And while her voice wasn’t crystal clear over the motor, it did have a pleasant timbre and reminded him of a girl he once knew. “You’re a tourist?”
“I’m here for a conference.”
He nodded. At any given time there were between three and six conferences going on in the area. Late August was considered their off-season, but even then his hotel did well because the conferences never stopped. “For future reference, you probably should stick to the tourist areas. Outside the main River Walk, you can run into some sketchy characters.”
“I never planned to end up somewhere alone. I blame my app.” She shook the phone. “I’m going to call the police again.”
Two officers on bikes zoomed on the right sidewalk in their direction. “No need.”
He slowed the boat and stood, waving his arms to get the officers’ attention. As they looked up, he anchored the boat to the side. It wasn’t an official docking point, but it would serve his purpose.
The officer to the right turned his attention to the woman cradling her ankle. “Did you call about someone chasing you?”
“Yes! And one man had a knife. If this garbageman hadn’t pulled over—”
Garbageman? Matt almost objected aloud. He was the director of operations for one of the most successful hotels in the area.
The River Walk had its own cleanup crew and barges, but the hotel owned one to clean up their private nook, closest to its property. They needed the barge to haul the bags from the trash receptacles placed strategically around the grotto. It was especially useful after a conference or party, when litter inevitably made its way into the water. Matt hadn’t wanted to wait for the usual waste-management rounds.
He glanced down at the overalls. He supposed it did look like he was a garbageman. But it was technically his day off, and since Louis had called in sick, Matt didn’t mind filling in for his job. He always did what was best for the hotel. That, and since he had worked his way up to director, Matt had filled in for almost every position. And more important, he’d yet to train a substitute for Louis. Besides, what would he do with a day off? His family would arrive in a couple of days, and he wanted the hotel to look top-notch.
He had been testing the front-desk staff on new efficient task-management strategies earlier that day, which made it extra tempting to unzip the overalls to show he wore a dress shirt and trousers underneath.
The woman stood up and gave her account of the men chasing her. Her animated expression complemented her wide hand gestures. Her brown hair hung in loose waves past her shoulders. The sides were pulled up by a clip, and thick bangs hung down over her eyebrows, the same way...
Matt felt his eyebrows rise. She looked just like Isabelle Barrows, his best friend for seven years in high school. That was, until he’d acted like an idiot. Her dad’s post had moved across the country before they had a chance to reconcile.
But could it really be her? She wore tan dress pants and a white button-up blouse. Not something the Isabelle he knew would wear, but it’d been...what? Eight years? People changed, grew up, in that kind of time. He certainly had.
Before prom, all those years ago, Isabelle had confided an interest in Randy, the star quarterback. Instead of being a good friend, jealousy had reared up. Matt had warned Randy to stay away from Isabelle. But Matt hadn’t stopped there, no. He’d proceeded to list all the reasons dating Isabelle would be a bad idea.
He’d never forget the moment Randy pointed over his shoulder. He turned around and saw Isabelle’s wounded expression. The look of betrayal on her face had morphed into rage, and he never had a chance to explain he’d done it all because he liked her as more than a friend. Matt sighed, reliving the moment. What he’d done had been immature and wrong, but he’d been a kid. He was a different person now.
He turned off the idling motor. The breeze carried her voice, this time unencumbered. Yes, he definitely recognized her now.
The officer nodded. “Okay. Sounds like an attempted mugging. Maybe they saw you earlier take something out of your bag that looked valuable.”
She frowned. “Maybe.”
“We will keep a lookout for them, ma’am. In the meantime, I recommend you stay with other conference attendees.” The officer looked over her head at Matt. “Can you drop her off at her hotel?”
Matt shrugged. “Sure. Where are you staying, Izzy?”
She turned her head around so fast he feared for her neck. Her eyes widened as her gaze connected with his. If he’d seen those eyes at first glance, the color of the deep blue sea, he’d have known immediately. He remembered staring into them while they talked for hours about everything and simultaneously nothing. She could make ironing sound interesting, discussing the cultural impacts the introduction of the iron made on society.
He smirked at the thought. “Hi, Isabelle.”
Her rosy lips parted. “Matthew?”
No one, not even his mother, called him by his full name. Only his tax forms and driver’s license labeled him as such. He had told everyone he much preferred to go by the shorter version, but he’d never told Isabelle. Truthfully, he liked the way she said it. Maybe because it made him feel like they had a special bond.
He blinked away the nonsensical thought as her expression shifted from surprise to hurt. His shoulders dropped. Great. She was remembering the incident.
She recovered quickly, though, as she pulled her shoulders back and smiled. “Wow. Matt.” She nodded, as if processing.
The officer looked between the two of them. “So you know each other? Good. We have your number if we need to get in touch, Miss Barrows. Stay safe.”
Matt made note of the fact she was called “Miss.” Not married yet, then.
Isabelle looked at him with fresh eyes. “Wow. Matt.”
“I’m not a garbageman,” he said, waving at the outfit. “I—”
Her eyes widened, and she raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh. I’m sorry. Garbage person? No, garbage... Waste-management professional?”
He laughed. Same Isabelle, always quick to fix things. “No, I meant I’m director of operations at The Grand River Walk. Where are you staying?”
She told him, and he frowned. “We can’t get there by barge. Let me park this at my hotel, and I’ll take you where you need to go.”
Confusion clouded her features, but she pressed her lips together and nodded. Maybe she didn’t believe him? He tried not to think about it. “Hold on.” He waved at a bar she could hold on to instead of sitting on the barge again.
It didn’t take long to park in the small dock underneath the hotel’s little cove. Isabelle stiffened at the dark atmosphere. “You’re safe now,” he said. He couldn’t imagine what she’d gone through. Though he didn’t really have that much time to start what could be a lengthy conversation. He’d do what he promised, though, and maybe even plan on grabbing a coffee with her sometime.
She followed him silently as he waved the magnetic strip on his badge to open the employee entrance. He escorted her through the glistening hallway to the front desk. “Ask Miranda to get you a hard copy of a map. She’ll show you the safest routes to walk back to your hotel, for future reference.” He placed a hand on her arm. “I’m going to change real quick.”
She nodded mutely. Maybe she was going into shock? He darted into the employee locker room and quickly removed the overalls. From his locker, he pulled out a suit coat and an azure tie.
Not wanting to keep her waiting, Matt strode confidently into the marbled lobby. He smiled expectantly, ready to impress Isabelle, but he spotted only a tourist on one of the couches. “Miranda? I sent a woman here for a map.”
“Oh, yes. I showed her how to get to the Adobe Suites. She left a couple of minutes ago.”
“She wh—” Matt groaned. Could it be she didn’t want to be near him for another second? Although, in his haste, he supposed he hadn’t made it clear he planned to escort her back to her hotel. What kind of jerk did she think he was? “Could you pass me another map? Show me what route you told her.”
Miranda handed it over. The Adobe, one of the cheapest hotels in the area, wasn’t located in what was considered the tourist zone. She’d have to walk through a relatively sketchy area to get to it.
Would she be safe?
TWO (#u8011b9fb-36dd-52d5-8a88-eb1b6ba6abda)
Isabelle studied the highlighted paper map in front of her. Perky Miranda at the front desk insisted there was a tourist-friendly way to walk to her hotel. Unfortunately, without going back on that horribly secluded path, it would add another half mile to her throbbing ankle. Besides, as far as she knew, they hadn’t caught the men who’d chased her, so she decided to wait next to the doorman for a cab.
Why did her hero have to be Matt McGuire, of all people? Her eyes stung with unshed tears as the reality of her situation hit her. All alone in a giant city, after a near miss with armed men, she was left with a rescuer who had betrayed her friendship. Her hand reached for her collarbone as if her heartbeat was exposed to the rest of the world.
Matt no longer resembled the young boy she’d known throughout junior high and high school. His jaw looked chiseled, barely covered with a trimmed beard. The caramel mop with strands of honey-colored hair used to be bushy and unkempt, but now it was cropped, serving to emphasize his dark eyes. The man had aged well.
She’d grown up moving all over the country, aside from those seven precious years in Northern California. Matt had been her best friend right up until the day she’d stupidly listened to her girlfriends’ advice: “Tell him you like someone else, and then he’ll finally notice you as more than a friend.”
Oh, he noticed all right, and Isabelle finally found out what Matt really thought of her. She had been on her way to meet Matt and confess her lie when she’d overheard him.
“Randy, look, man. You don’t want to go out with her. Isabelle’s... She’s intense.”
“I’m pretty intense,” Randy responded.
“No, you don’t get it. She has this way of questioning everything. And she’s stubborn. You’ll never meet anyone more stubborn. And so intelligent...logical to a fault, really, yet still somehow naive.”
Her neck had felt on fire, and the heat had spread across her entire body, paralyzing her in the hall. Randy caught her gaze and pointed over Matt’s shoulder.
Yeah, that had been a pretty bad day. Isabelle shook away the memories.
She glanced down at the colorful map. She’d been eager to check out the art galleries and historic buildings before the incident. Now sightseeing didn’t hold the same appeal. She glanced up. Across the street, a man stood under the overhang of a building. He held a newspaper but stared directly at her.
The realization gave her an unnatural chill in the heat.
It was probably a coincidence. He wasn’t one of the men who’d chased her earlier, but she didn’t want to take time to study his face. She pretended to look at the map and dared another peek underneath her eyelashes. The man in the jacket continued to stare at her. Jacket? Who would wear a jacket in the heat of August? He reached into an inner pocket.
Was it a weapon? Isabelle no longer cared if she looked foolish. Her ankle smarted as she spun around to run back into the hotel and barreled right into another man. She screamed and stepped back.
“Isabelle!” Matt’s hands grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “It’s me. Are you okay?”
She flinched and twisted to look behind her. The man was gone. She pointed a shaky finger. “He—he—”
Matt let her go and stepped around her. “I don’t see anyone.” He offered her a kind smile. “You’ve had quite a scare today. It’s understandable you’d be on edge. I’m so glad you haven’t left yet. I never intended to leave you alone. Sorry for the miscommunication.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve always been good at that.” She stared at the empty doorway across the street. Matt didn’t believe her about the man? Great. Where could he have gone, anyway? Behind one of the cars?
Matt stiffened. “Speaking of misunderstandings, I’d like to explain sometime about what you overheard me telling Randy all those years ago.”
“No need. Water under the bridge.”
He frowned. “What are you going to do tomorrow? Which conference are you attending?”
“The Oceanology Conference.”
He pointed at the map in her hands. “Your conference is almost a mile from your hotel.”
“I’m aware.” She sighed. “Maybe I’ll call a cab.” It would have to come out of her own pocket, though, and the way the conference was split up, she would need four trips a day for the entire week. She couldn’t afford it. The plan had been to walk everywhere...until those men had chased her.
Matt squinted as if deep in thought, little lines forming around his eyes. “If I weren’t so busy—”
He felt guilty? “Matt, you don’t owe me anything. It’s not as if it’s your town. You don’t have to feel responsible.”
He chuckled. “Well, I do. The River Walk has been my home the past couple of years. I’d hate for you to leave with a bad impression.” He looked down at her feet. “How’s your ankle?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
A cab pulled to the curb. The doorman walked forward and opened the door for her. Isabelle got in and turned to give Matt a little wave, but he was already gone. Figured.
The other side of the car opened, and Matt slid onto the seat next to her.
“You don’t have to—”
He smiled, the same smile that’d made her knees go weak when she was younger. “I promised those officers I’d escort you back to your hotel, and that’s what I intend to do.” His fingertips brushed her forearm as he leaned forward to point the driver in the direction of the hotel. The touch felt familiar, and a flash of homesickness hit her in the gut. She missed the boy Matt used to be. She blinked back the sudden emotion. It was unlike her to be overcome with feelings, but it’d been a most trying day.
The cabbie kept Matt occupied for a moment, discussing shortcuts and ways to avoid construction. When they’d run out of topics, Matt leaned back in his seat. “It’s been a long time. Please let me take you out to coffee while you’re here so we can talk.”
“I told you, the past is water under—”
“Yeah, yeah.” His eyes crinkled with warmth. “If that’s true, then you’d have no problem catching up like the old friends we used to be.”
Her guard broke down. He had a point. If she really weren’t nursing a grudge like she claimed, he’d have been right. But she wasn’t about to admit that his actions all those years ago still hurt. She forced a smile. “Okay. I’ll check my conference schedule and get back to you.”
Ten minutes later, the cab pulled into the driveway of her hotel. Matt hopped out and paid the driver before she could object. He opened her door and helped her out. “Today’s my only day off, believe it or not. It’d be better to get our coffee on my calendar now. I’ll walk you up to your room, and while I grab you some ice for that ankle, you can check.” He caught her annoyed expression. “And then I’ll be out of your hair.”
She composed her features. “That’s sweet. Thank you.” Somehow he knew. He knew that the moment he dropped her off, she’d make sure she was too busy for coffee. Spending time with him after all these years would be more awkward than she had social skills to handle. But if they had something on the calendar, she’d feel bound to follow through.
They walked through the automatic sliding doors. The conference had proved engaging so far, but as an introvert, she craved some recharging time. Especially today. She’d never experienced fear as intensely as she had while running from those men. Would she no longer feel safe to go to the grocery store late at night? Or take a walk with her dog after sunset? From now on, would she imagine strangers following her?
Would she even be able to fall asleep tonight? She couldn’t take any sleep aids like many business travelers did. She had a history of sleepwalking, and any treatments for insomnia would increase the chances. That was the last thing she needed in a big city.
“Izzy?”
She caught his concerned gaze. “Sorry. Lost in thought. Did you say something?”
“I was wondering if you knew off the top of your head if you were free tonight. Would you want to have dinner instead? I could wait in the lobby while you freshen up.”
Did that mean she looked like she needed freshening up? She pursed her lips. If he thought she was primping for him, he had another think coming. But it didn’t matter. “I’m afraid I can’t. My research center is counting on me to network with potential investors.” Responsibilities weighed her shoulders down. “I’m supposed to be at a dinner with other conference attendees in—” she glanced at her phone and groaned “—an hour.” So much for time to decompress.
Her shoe caught on a snag in the carpet, and her ankle protested again. Matt put his arm around the back of her waist. “You really need to rest it.”
The functional embrace was almost enough to make her forget everything he’d said all those years ago. A shock of heat slid up her spine. She remembered a time when Matt was nothing but sweet and caring. They had never run out of things to talk about. How many times had she gone home wishing he’d have shown a romantic interest in her?
“By the way, no one calls me Izzy anymore,” she said.
“Oh? I seem to remember it was Belle in elementary, Ibby in junior high and Izzy in high school.” He smirked. “What’s left?”
Her cheeks heated at her younger self’s insistence at changing nicknames all the time. “Just plain Isabelle, thanks.”
“I thought you didn’t like that.”
“Yeah, well, that was for superficial reasons I’ve outgrown.”
“Such as?”
Did he really have to push it? She sighed. “I feel safe, as an adult, from the joke.”
“Joke?”
She felt her eyebrow rise. “Are you seriously trying to tell me you don’t remember it?”
“Knock knock.” His lips were fighting a laugh.
She simultaneously wanted to smack him in the shoulder and laugh along with him. “I knew you knew it.” The rest of the joke played through her head automatically: Who’s there? Isabelle. Is a bell out of order? I had to knock.
Oh, how she hated that joke and all the varieties that went with it. They had reached the back of the lobby.
Matt slowed. “Where to?”
She pointed to the left. Even though she’d requested a top floor, they’d put her on the bottom floor, where she could hear every footstep and door closing all night long. The smell of wet carpet hit her sinuses. The moisture was either from the heavy humidity or the remnants of a flooding.
Judging by Matt’s tight lips, his hotel didn’t suffer the same problem. She pointed at the door to the left. “This is me.”
“Okay. I’ll head for the ice machine while you get settled.” The moment her hand touched the door, Matt’s support left her. He strode down the hallway.
She pushed the plastic key into the slot, but instead of the little light turning green, the door opened, almost as if on its own. Strange. Had she not closed it all the way?
Utter darkness greeted her. Her breath hitched. She’d purposefully left the lamp on. Had housekeeping turned it off? She glanced at the door handle. The Do Not Disturb sign was still hanging where she’d placed it. Her back went rigid. Logically, it was possible the lightbulb had burned out.
She groped for the light switch but couldn’t remember where it was. Her heart slammed into her chest as she searched for it with no result. What if someone was in the room, waiting for her? She jumped backward into the hallway, letting the door close in front of her. “Matt?” She hated the way her voice shook.
“Everything okay?”
“I think someone’s been in my room.” Her voice shook. He was going to think she’d turned into a basket case.
His long stride reached her in a heartbeat. “Are you sure?”
She shook her head. “No, but—” She waved at the door. “It’s different.”
His brow furrowed as he studied her. “May I?” He took the plastic key from her hand. The door opened easily as he stepped into the blackness. “Probably just housekeep—” Light flooded the room and into the hallway.
Her shoulders dropped. He’d found the light switch, which meant she had overreacted.
He spun around. Lines creased his forehead. “Izzy, call the police.”
* * *
Matt couldn’t believe his eyes. Every inch of her hotel room had been ransacked. The drawers weren’t just open but pulled out of the dresser. The couch cushions and king-size mattress had been flipped.
The police directed him to wait in the hotel lobby as they interviewed Isabelle and the hotel staff. Isabelle iced her ankle in the chair perpendicular to him while they asked her questions. He pulled off his suit jacket. He could usually stand the heat and humidity in decent air-conditioning, but this hotel seemed to lack it.
Isabelle clutched her sparkly heart necklace. She shook her head to whatever question the officer had asked her. The jewelry looked bulky, almost gaudy compared to the elegance of her outfit. Frankly, it didn’t suit her tastes. Or rather, the tastes she used to have. He didn’t presume to know how much Isabelle had changed over the years.
Her manicured fingertips ran over the diamond-encrusted jewels on the left side of the heart. Fake, probably...he hoped. He cringed as he recognized the spark of jealousy. It would not rear its ugly head again. He was too mature for that.
As thick as the jeweled heart was, it was likely a locket of some sort...and none of his business. He would not ask her who gave her that locket. Although it might be part of the reason she hesitated to spend time catching up with him. Maybe she had forgiven him but didn’t want to be alone with him because she was already attached to someone else. He leaned forward to catch a glimpse of her other hand.
Isabelle caught his movements and frowned as her hands dropped to her lap. No engagement ring. He smiled and pushed his arms out as if stretching, and her face relaxed.
The hotel staff gathered on the opposite side of the lobby. They seemed tense as they huddled. It seemed harder to believe the ransacking was a coincidence after the men in the grotto. Isabelle had thought a man had been watching her outside his hotel, but he’d credited it to nerves. Now it seemed like someone was targeting her.
The police officer stepped away from Isabelle. She took a shaky breath and smiled at Matt. “He said you’re free to go. I’m sorry you had to spend your day off like this.”
Matt watched the officers leave. “Did they have any leads?”
Her face fell. “Not yet. They’re moving me to another room, at least.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
She pulled back, her blue eyes wide.
He sighed. He’d done it again, speaking without thinking. But it didn’t mean his instinct was wrong. He stood. “You’re not staying here. We’ve already discovered it’s not safe. Besides, don’t you have a sinus headache from these damp carpets?”
She blinked. “My allergies have gotten better over the years, but yeah, I’ve got a low-grade one that won’t quit.”
“I’ll help you pack.”
She flashed a smile that reminded him of all the nights he’d been tempted to kiss her. Some decent air-conditioning would be welcome right now.
“I appreciate your concern, Matt, but my boss already paid in advance for me to stay here. I can’t afford—”
“My treat.” There he went again. But he wasn’t about to let her stay somewhere that clearly had inadequate hotel security.
“I can’t let you pay—”
“Yes, you can. Besides, I’m manager, and it’s our slow season. I’m sure we have a couple of rooms available.” The lines around her eyes creased in worry. “It’s complimentary,” he added. “It won’t come out of my pocket, either.” He tilted his head back and forth. “And if you’re that worried about it, you can ease your conscience by writing a review after your stay with us.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”
Her eyes twinkled as she looked up at him, and she accepted his hand. “You can’t buy a good review from me, Matthew McGuire. I have my integrity.”
The softness of her touch took him off guard. He let go the moment she had her balance. “If you’re not one hundred percent satisfied, your room is compliment—Oh, wait...”
She laughed. “Point taken.”
“Besides, you’re going to love it.” He couldn’t help bragging over his hotel. The last two years, he’d worked hard to make it the premier destination for conference attendees, and the top brass had noticed. Which was how he’d been promoted so fast.
He glanced down at her dainty foot within her flat. It was red, most likely from the ice. “How is it?”
“Almost as good as new.”
“Isabelle, what did the police say?”
“They didn’t think the two incidents were connected.” Her hand clasped her necklace again.
“Seems a bit coincidental, don’t you think?”
“They figure I somehow showed I had cash.”
“They assume the men with knives—”
She flinched at the word. “They say I’ve had an unfortunate experience with San Antonio crime.”
Granted, he wasn’t a woman walking the streets alone, but the statement didn’t ring true to him. If she couldn’t offer the police any reason why someone would be targeting her, then they would be grasping at straws. “And what do you think?”
“It seems a bit much to take on face value, but I can’t offer another explanation for why this happened to me.” Her face was lined with worry. She didn’t seem to be holding anything back. She looked genuinely surprised.
She offered him a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’d better gather my things.”
Ten minutes later, Matt sat in a cab with Isabelle. He’d called ahead, and his staff assured him they had a room ready for her. “We didn’t have a king-size,” Matt explained. “I hope a standard double room will be adequate.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, well, I guess you get what you pay for. You’ll have to wait to find out what I think until my review.”
He stared at her, a warmth building in his chest. He had loved this girl, and she’d never known it.
The mischievous glint in her eyes dimmed. “Oh, no.” She yanked out her phone. “I’m over an hour late to the networking dinner. It was supposed to start at seven.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand given the circumstances.”
“That’s not the point. I promised Hank I’d take every opportunity. He—we need this.”
Was she in a relationship with this Hank? Nope, he wouldn’t ask. Not his business. “Let’s get you settled and get you to that dinner. Which restaurant?” he asked.
She told him as the cab pulled in front of his hotel.
He paid the driver and helped her out of the cab. “That’s just across the street, under the bridge, on the left side of the River Walk. We can’t get you any closer by taxi.”
So much for showing off with a grand tour. He stared into the dark night. After the day she’d had, he couldn’t let her go walking alone—with a weak ankle—through the throng of tourists and occasional muggers. “On second thought, I’ll take you straight there myself.”
She looked up at him. “You don’t have to. You’ve done so much already.”
Yes, there were still remnants of the stubborn girl he’d known. “Izzy, I’d like to escort you there. While I think you’ll be safe in the tourist sections, ease my conscience by promising me someone will walk you back to the hotel when you’re done.”
She straightened. “Deal. But what about my luggage?”
Matt called for the bellhop, who instantly recognized him. “Yes, sir?”
“Please take Ms. Barrows’s luggage and put it behind the front desk for me.”
“Do you have a hotel safe?” Isabelle asked.
“Of course.”
“Would it be okay if I put my laptop in it?” She pulled it out of her messenger bag and cried out at the sight of a bent corner. “I’d forgotten about this.” She studied it for a moment. “It still should work. So, can I use your safe?”
Matt nodded slowly. “Yes. Frank can put it in the safe.” Matt took the laptop from her and handed it to his employee. “Straight to the safe.”
Frank nodded and took off with the rollaway and computer. Matt watched him to make sure he was making a beeline to the front-desk area. But he couldn’t help but wonder if Isabelle was hiding something. Was her laptop the reason her room had been ransacked? And by agreeing to store it, was he putting a target on his own hotel?
Her eyes softened as she took his offered arm. “Thank you. You’ve gone above and beyond for someone you haven’t seen in years.”
As they made their way down the stone steps into the dimly lit cacophony, he hoped it would be enough to keep her safe.
THREE (#u8011b9fb-36dd-52d5-8a88-eb1b6ba6abda)
She hated relying on Matt. This was not how she imagined experiencing the River Walk and the conference. In her mind, she was a strong, independent, single woman strolling confidently down the sidewalks. And little girls would look from the hands of their parents and wonder what glamorous job she had...
Okay, Isabelle was a dreamer and knew it. But still, this wasn’t going as planned. They emerged from the curved stone staircase onto the open River Walk. Music from a mariachi band filtered through laughter and trees to her ears. Colorful patio umbrellas lined the right side. Tree branches hung over the river that sloshed precariously close to the sidewalks, likely from the heavy rains last week.
Ducks squawked. One hopped onto an empty chair of an outdoor diner. It was like a hidden world underneath the city. Isabelle flinched as a man brushed past her. She stepped closer to Matt.
“We’re almost there,” he said. They passed the colorful tables, and the music faded in the background as he led her inside the waiting area of a posh restaurant. “See your party?”
On her tiptoes, she spotted the graying head of Darren Allen, the CEO of Endangered Robotics. He leaned back in his seat to talk to another man. Their plates held the remains of their meals. A waiter approached their table and handed them each a black book. “Oh, no. They’ve already got their bills.”
Isabelle was raised knowing that if you arrived five minutes early to an event, you were actually ten minutes late. Joining the party this tardy pained her. And to top it off, there wasn’t an empty spot for her to sit, if even for a few minutes.
Matt looked over her shoulder. “At least they aren’t completely done. Some of them are still eating. Look, there is an empty table right next to them. You can get a little networking in before they leave while you wait for some food.” He leaned over and spoke to the hostess.
The thought of sitting alone at the small square table put a pit in her stomach. She’d look pathetic to the rest of the attendees. No, she’d be better off cutting her losses and trying again tomorrow. But the hostess was already waving at her. “Right this way.”
Darren Allen caught her eye. Oh, great. If she turned around now, they would all know she was too chicken to eat alone. She gulped and looked over her shoulder. “Okay. Well, thanks, Matt.”
He nodded and touched her elbow. “See you in a bit.”
Darren waved at her. “There’s the new golden girl we’ve been hearing all about. Your presentation must be something else to get added at the last minute. We were hoping you’d have joined us for dinner to tell us about it.”
Every giant in the industry of oceanographic research and innovation looked up at her. “I’m sorry. I was held up.”
A man about her age turned in his chair. His blue eyes twinkled up at her. “Oh, so you must be the expert of fluid dynamics I keep hearing about.” He held out his hand. “Robert.”
“Struther,” she finished for him. “You were the youngest winner ever of the underwater robot competition before you were swept up as the lead researcher for Robotic Aquatic.” She cringed inwardly. She sounded like a fangirl, which she was, but she needed him to see her more like a colleague.
He shrugged. “Vice president now, but yes. I expect I’ll never fully leave the lab.” He gestured to her chair. “Please. Don’t let us keep you from ordering. We’re just wrapping up.” He nodded at the rest of the group. She waved awkwardly at everyone, but most of them just nodded back.
Struther stood. “Nice to meet you...uh...”
“Isabelle Barrows.” She shook his hand. “From Hayden Research Station.”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Any spoilers you can give about your presentation?”
The unexpected heat from his proximity made her want to squirm, but this was exactly the kind of connection she needed to make for the institute. “Um, I think it would be detrimental to rush that conversation. Perhaps another time?”
He stared into her eyes. “I look forward to it.” He slipped a business card from his pocket and handed it to her, cupping her hand in both of his palms. “You have my number.”
Darren stood and shook her hand. “I hope you’re not eating all by your lonesome, sweetheart.”
She flinched at the term of endearment. But she supposed a lot of older men spoke that way.
Matt appeared out of nowhere and pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Izzy.” He held out a hand to the CEO. “Matt McGuire.”
Darren grinned. “Ah. Perfect place to enjoy young love.” He winked at Isabelle. “Until tomorrow.”
The group left, leaving Isabelle and Matt alone. “Where’d you come from?” she asked.
“Didn’t think I’d let you eat alone, did you?” He flashed a sheepish grin. “I realized I was hungry, and you looked uneasy. Did I overstep? Is it okay if I join you?”
Relief coursed through her body. “Yes, please.” She finally sat, keenly aware the men in the group were making their way out of the restaurant. Her pride wouldn’t leave Matt’s gesture alone, though. “I mean, I would’ve been fine, but...thank you.”
Darren and Robert stopped at the entrance doors. Through the window, the lights from above highlighted what looked like a tense interchange. “I wonder what they’re talking about.”
“Who are they?” Matt’s gaze remained on the menu.
“The older man runs a company I would’ve killed to work at fresh out of college. He leads Endangered Robotics. They use drones to keep poachers away from rare animals, but the cool thing is they’re expanding to underwater operations.”
Matt’s eyes widened. “And the other?”
“His company just landed a defense contract worth thirty million dollars.” She glanced over her shoulder. The interchange seemed to be done. “I shudder to think just how much he makes.”
“I take it not as much as you.”
Isabelle laughed aloud. “Please. You saw the hotel room my institute could afford. We’re a bare-bones outfit. But I hope to change that by luring some investors with my research.”
The waiter came and took their orders. Matt leaned on his elbows. “This is an oceanology conference, right? What could be worth millions of dollars?”
“You’ve heard about dolphins being trained for the government? Well, that guy, for instance, invented an underwater autonomous vehicle that does the work of the dolphins, only better.” For the briefest of moments it seemed the estranged years disappeared, and she was sharing everything with her best friend again.
Matt raised an eyebrow. “So, what about you? What are you working on?”
“Application of fish swarm behavior in an intelligent transportation system.” The familiar pulse of electricity when she talked about her passion made her sit up taller and talk faster. “I’ve developed a new algorithm that takes in new factors of thermodynamics, fluid dynamics and currents in a way never done before with the potential of driving systems with bottleneck and obstacle avoidance.”
Matt’s mouth parted slightly. His eyes flickered. “Uh... I don’t suppose you could repeat that in English?”
She deflated in her chair. “Drones. Think underwater drones.”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh. Cool.”
“My boss had to pull a lot of strings so I could present here. The goal is to network and share just enough of my research to get investors to partner with us.” And if she failed, who knew how much longer the institute, and therefore her job, would even exist?
Sure, she felt confident another company would hire her, but it was the last thing she wanted. Finally having a permanent home meant something, and she would do whatever it took to hold on to it. Her coworkers had become like family to her—with the exception of Hank, who already was—and she wasn’t about to give it up.
The waiter placed salads in front of them. Matt’s forehead creased in concern. “Is that why you wanted your laptop in the safe? Do you think the hotel-room incident could have something to do with it?”
“It’s probably silly to think someone would be after my research. My boss has taken every precaution to make sure no one even knows enough to want to steal it, but—”
“After the day you’ve had, you want to play it safe.”
“Exactly.”
They ate in awkward silence. He cleared his throat as the salads disappeared and the meals came. “Since I don’t know if we’ll have another chance to talk, I’d like to clear the air.”
She fidgeted with her silverware. “It’s not necessary. It’s not like those things you said were lies.”
“Izzy, I didn’t mean—”
“No, really, Matt. I get the Bro Code and all that. You were looking out for Randy. Besides, the whole thing was stupid. At the time, I wasn’t even interested in Randy.”
His mouth dropped. “You weren’t?”
“Nope.” What was she doing? She needed to stop her mouth, but the adrenaline from the evening and the combined exhaustion made her mouth run on and on. “I actually liked you. And then my girlfriends convinced me to try that stunt to make you jealous. But you know what’s the craziest of all? I ended up with Randy anyway. He said he never would’ve known who I was if it wasn’t for you. Isn’t that funny?”
Matt stared at her, his expression unreadable. “You what?”
“Randy and I ended up at the same college. He had a football scholarship.”
Matt pursed his lips. “Huh.” He coughed and rearranged the food on his plate.
“And he assured me the stuff you said about me didn’t bother him. So, see? We can move on.”
“Well, uh, that’s, uh...a relief. Are you still—”
“No. Don’t worry. My crush on you is gone.” She put a hand on her chest. “No threat here.”
He cleared his throat. “I was going to ask if you were still with Randy.”
“Oh.” Her face heated. “No. He got offered a job as a pharmaceutical rep. I just couldn’t do that kind of life.”
Matt’s eyes softened. “The traveling?”
His question caught her off guard. She managed to nod. “A long-distance relationship and moving are off the table. I want to stay somewhere for the long haul.”
Isabelle stared at her empty plate. She’d talked and eaten so fast, it didn’t register what the food had tasted like. The reminder that Matt knew enough to understand her desire without clarification rankled her for some reason. So much so, she wasn’t fast enough to pay for the check before he’d already taken care of it.
He escorted her to the door. A breeze wove through the River Walk. She shivered. The temperature must’ve dropped twenty-some degrees since the afternoon. In a heartbeat, Matt took off his suit jacket and handed it to her.
“For the walk back.”
She accepted. The jacket did more than provide warmth. It somehow made her feel safer, as if wearing armor. She looked like someone’s girlfriend. She hadn’t been one of those for over a year now.
Her ankle hurt less as she joined the throng of tourists. The ice and rest had done the job. Matt had to step behind her, single file, as there wasn’t enough room to walk alongside each other and still allow the traffic to flow from the opposite direction. The jumble of tourists merging onto the sidewalk separated them by a couple of people.
A hand snaked around her wrist and yanked her off the walkway and into the darkness. A glint of metal appeared at her waist. “Scream and you die.” The man pulled her up an incline and pushed her into a shadowed area behind a tree.
* * *
Matt nearly fell into the water when someone shoved past him. A woman grabbed his shirt and helped him upright. His focus had been elsewhere...specifically, on the fact that Isabelle had ended up with Randy after all. The incident in high school had been an immature ploy to get his attention? How ironic that he had responded with his own ploy by trying to drum up bad things to say about her.
So she’d come clean, but why couldn’t he? Why hadn’t he interrupted Isabelle and admitted he had liked her? Why hadn’t he told her he never meant those hurtful things? His lips had refused to cooperate. Pride had paralyzed him. Again.
He scanned the tourists ahead of him. He’d completely lost sight of her. He strained his neck in an effort to spot Isabelle. No sign. He called her name, but the music and talking and laughter from all the restaurants swallowed up his voice.
Something reflected a light. On Marriage Island—a tiny, unlit inlet that jutted into the San Antonio River—a couple stood in the shadows against the tree. He almost looked away, but the profile looked remarkably like Isabelle’s. He saw the outline of the man wrench a bag from her torso.
Matt vaulted through the crowd. As he rounded the tree, the man pointed a gun at Isabelle. “Hey!” As the man turned to aim the gun at him, Matt grabbed the assailant’s arm and twisted it until the weapon dropped from his hand. The man punched Matt in the gut with his other arm.
Pain vibrated down his legs from the impact.
The man pulled a knife from his pocket and stabbed it into Isabelle’s torso. She cried out and crumpled. Matt pulled his fist back and slammed it into the assailant’s jaw.
The man stumbled backward until he took off into a run, the messenger bag bouncing off his hip. He ran around the tree, pushed tourists aside and dashed up a flight of stairs to the upper level of stores.
“Stop him,” Matt shouted, but over the noise, he doubted anyone heard him. The creep didn’t even glance back before he slipped between two buildings and disappeared.
Isabelle’s hands held her stomach. Matt dropped to his knees. He looked past the tree and yelled for help at a group passing by. He reached for Isabelle. How badly had she been stabbed?
She coughed. “He’s getting away.”
He couldn’t call for an ambulance without his phone, which still resided in the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He reached for her and prepared himself for the worst as his eyes focused on the rip in his suit, where she’d been stabbed. He pulled back the jacket slowly, inwardly cringing at what he might find.
Instead of blood he saw only fabric. His eyes lifted to her face.
She pressed her hand on her stomach. “It didn’t pierce me. The force of it just hurt. Your jacket... Was there something in the pocket?” Her frown cleared as she pulled out his phone and wallet. Cracks radiated across the screen. In the center of the phone he could see the point of impact. If the blade had hit flesh... He gulped.
Her right hand reached for his wrist.
“Isabelle, you could’ve been—”
“But I wasn’t. You saved my life,” she whispered. Her eyes filled. “He got away with everything. My phone, my wallet, my tablet... It’s all gone.”
He squeezed her hand. “All replaceable.” Unlike her.
Two policemen ran up to the tree. One took a knee. “Ma’am, do you need an ambulance?”
Twenty minutes passed before the officers were finished with their questions. Matt half listened to their reassurances to Isabelle that if she came to the police station for the report, she would likely still be able to fly home without an ID.
One officer stepped away while he listened to his radio. He approached again. “Ma’am, you said you were pursued earlier today by two men? Was this attack made by one of the same men?”
“No.” She frowned. “I’m positive.”
“Were there any witnesses to the earlier event?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Just Matt.”
The officer gave him a long glance. “And you were the only witness to this altercation, as well?”
Matt leaned back on his heels. Was the officer implying they were making the incidents up? “We were surrounded by witnesses. Surely someone saw something.” He waved behind him to the sidewalk.
“If they did, they didn’t stick around to tell their story.” The other officer narrowed his eyes.
Matt threw his hands up in the air. “This can’t be a coincidence.”
The officer ignored him and addressed Isabelle. “I assure you it’s very unusual for one of our tourists to be a victim of so much crime in one day, ma’am. Were you carrying anything valuable that would draw attention?”
Isabelle grabbed her sparkling necklace. The temptation to ask who gave her that welled up in Matt again. “Only the usual conference-attendee stuff,” she said. “Wallet, tablet, phone—you know, basically my whole world.” She smiled weakly.
Matt recalled the way she’d begged for him to put her laptop in the hotel safe. She had been carrying it in her messenger bag. What if the people who tore up her room were looking for the information that was on her laptop?
The memory of the man shoving the knife into Isabelle made him flinch. If he’d been after the laptop and thought he’d grabbed it, then why stab her? His blood ran cold. Did someone want her out of the picture?
The police officers repeated their safety advice to her and walked away.
Matt met her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell them about the laptop?”
She looked uneasy. “It wasn’t pertinent.”
“Wasn’t it?” He crossed his arms across his chest. “I think it’s time you told me more about these underwater drones.”
FOUR (#u8011b9fb-36dd-52d5-8a88-eb1b6ba6abda)
The light emphasized Matt’s dark eyes. How many times had she dragged out conversations with him just for an excuse to keep looking into his eyes? Her cheeks heated at the thought, and she moved her gaze to the cobblestone beneath her feet.
She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She had better things to think of, more practical things. They’d changed. It was just the memory of a childhood crush. That was all. She’d get over it. She had to.
“Isabelle?” Matt repeated.
“Okay. Basically my life was thrown into chaos a couple weeks ago. I had a theory, and when I proved it, Hank used all his connections, and probably all his money, and got me a spot at the conference not only as an attendee but also as a presenter. It was very rushed.”
“That algorithm you were trying to tell me about?”
“Yes. It’s not the easiest thing to explain if I don’t want to put you to sleep.” She studied his expression so she’d have a baseline to reference if she started to lose him. “Nothing that’s been applied, but there’s the potential.”
“Of underwater drones?”
“Not exactly.” She waved at the river next to them as they walked closer to the stairs that would lead them back to the city streets. “Imagine there was a way to track fish and currents. That it could also be so undetectable that it wouldn’t disturb wildlife. To do that, we’d need the research to enable the drones to mimic the wildlife, right? Swarms of these drones could be for tracking and reconnaissance, not so much for attacking...although I admit, there could be the potential.”
His brow furrowed.
She tried again. “Okay. How about this? Imagine something that could even change currents if you needed it to. Wouldn’t the US Navy find that useful?”
His eyes widened. “Your research could do that?”
She shrugged. “Technology has missed some vital pieces to make it work. Namely the research.”
“And you’ve got the missing pieces.”
“I have at least one piece, but I believe it will lead me to the other pieces.”
“With the funding you’re trying to get this week.” He offered his arm as they ascended the stairs, and she took it. Matt kept looking over his shoulder. She knew he wanted to stay alert and keep her safe, but the constant checking unnerved her. “I’m still upset at the cops’ insinuation this was random crime,” he said. “The ransacked room combined with the attack is too much.”
“I know.” She really hoped he would stop talking about it so her heart rate could return to normal. “But from the police’s point of view, it’s been different people. I don’t even know if my research is connected with it.”
They crossed the street to the hotel entrance. He jolted to a stop at the automatic doors. His eyes widened. “What if someone wants it to look like random crimes?”
Her gut twisted. She could accept that if the man hadn’t tried to stab her. The thought that someone wanted to kill her... Well, her mind wouldn’t let her dwell on that possibility. “We’re jumping to conclusions that I don’t want to explore, Matt.” Or she’d never be able to sleep.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Listen, I’ll do whatever I can to help keep you safe.”
She looked down at her empty hands. All her personal information was on her tablet and phone, as if her life was spread open for that knife-wielding stranger to see. Assuming he could get past her passwords.
Matt had already done more than she could’ve asked, but right now she needed to contact the credit-card companies and, more important, her boss. “Do you guys have a business computer I can use here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You can use your laptop. I’ll get it out of the safe.”
“No, I can’t. It doesn’t have a network card. Zero wireless capabilities. For security reasons.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Security?”
“It’s becoming more common for researchers like me. About a year ago, another research center—a contractor for the defense department—had their data hacked. The sensitive information wasn’t stolen because the equipment they used for that purpose had no online capabilities. Hank took that as a lesson and made sure any of my data was compiled and analyzed only on a laptop without network cards.”
“I never would’ve thought ocean research was that valuable.” Matt whistled. “Well, speaking of hacking, I wouldn’t use our public computers to check on your credit cards. And while I can make your room complimentary, I can’t waive long-distance charges. My place is nearby. You can use my computer and phone. I insist. Stay here, and I’ll get your laptop from the safe.”
Being in debt to a guy she used to have a crush on was not on her agenda for the week. She already owed him for the room. More important, she owed him her life. But when she thought of it that way, using his computer didn’t seem like so much extra.
He approached with the laptop in his hands. “I’ve got it. Follow me.” He turned to walk down a hallway.
She looked around the marbled lobby at the plush couches and sparkling chandeliers. The immense difference in hotels struck her. Cheerful walls the color of lemon cheesecake complemented the navy runner. The only smells came from the coffee shop in the back of the lobby. The thought of enjoying a latte in the morning served as a balm to her—
Her stomach sank. Her wallet was in the hands of that goon. This wasn’t the type of place that came with complimentary breakfast. The conference came with very few meals, and it was only Monday night. Aside from the prepaid awards dinner on Tuesday and a boxed dinner on Wednesday, she was on her own for food. She didn’t have a way to pay for anything.
Her fingers moved to grip her messenger bag but met air. She had nothing. The severity of the situation hit her all at once, as if walls were closing in on her. A shuffle behind her pushed her forward. She wanted nothing more than to be alone. Being among strangers never used to bother her, but a new vulnerability she’d never experienced before made her legs twitch, ready to run.
Matt turned and made eye contact with someone behind them. “Can I help you?”
She looked over her shoulder. The man, dressed in a black short-sleeve polo, tan pants and a baseball hat, spun on his heel with a wave. He walked away.
“That was weird.” Matt watched the back of the man until he was no longer in sight.
“Really? It seems to have become the norm.” And she didn’t know what to make of it.
“Maybe he forgot something.”
She nodded. She wasn’t sure, but he kind of looked like the man who had been across the street from the hotel, watching her with a newspaper in his hands, sans his jacket from before.
Matt’s eyes locked on hers. His concerned gaze drew her a step closer, and she realized how desperate she was to be comforted. The man could give the best hugs, if memory served her right. She blinked. What was she doing? She took a step back.
He straightened. “We’re here.” He took out a real key, not a card, and unlocked a door with an embossed plate that read Director of Operations.
The door swung open to a gorgeous suite, or in this case, apartment. Gray tile floor instead of carpet reflected the light from the chandelier. Past the entryway, an Oriental rug complemented the silver couches with teal cushions. She spun around, taking it in. A kitchenette peeked behind a half wall, and an open door to the left revealed a king-size bedroom complete with sheer curtains surrounding it, almost like a canopy. “Are all the rooms like this?” She tried to keep the eager grin off her face. This was luxury.
“Not to this extent or size, but similar.” He pulled his own laptop out of the cherry desk and entered his username and password. “I’ll give you privacy to make your calls and check your accounts.”
He walked behind the kitchenette wall, and she almost called him back—which was ridiculous. She could handle being alone. She dropped into the leather desk chair. After she pulled up each credit-card company and froze the cards, she dialed Hank’s number.
“Isabelle,” he exclaimed before she could say a word. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past hour.”
“You have?” She leaned onto her elbow and rested her tightening forehead against her palm.
“Yes. We were hacked today. I wanted you to know before the conference gossip got to you. I’ve already assured the conference organizers that it will in no way affect your presentation.”
“Hank, listen—”
“I told them the research is uncompromised, and you’re the only one with access to it. That seemed to appease the board members. They’ve had so much interest in your topic, they’ve bumped you to a bigger venue. You’ll be the keynote for Friday morning.”
Isabelle blinked a couple of times, trying to process. That was huge. “Someone is after the research.”
“I know, but I’m telling you, they didn’t get it.”
“Hank, I mean here. Men have been after me.” She relayed the events of the past few hours. Hank remained quiet, but she could hear his breathing grow ragged. “It’s okay, Hank. They haven’t succeeded.”
“I’ve dipped into my retirement.” Hank’s voice shook softly. “I can’t send you money. I’m tapped out. I should’ve never sent you there. I don’t know what made me think I could do this.”
Isabelle’s heart squeezed. She was the reason. He’d hired her to work straight out of college. She’d talked him into upgrading his technology and insisted she could put the small institute on the map. And he’d believed in her. If the institute failed, it would be her fault.
“Come home, Isabelle. We need to keep you safe.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll figure something else out.”
“No, Hank. I’m fine. Don’t worry.” She fingered the diamond heart hanging from her neck. Her chest heated at the thought of letting him down. She’d had no idea he’d taken personal financial risk. He’d seen the potential in her. She couldn’t let it be for nothing. “The cops think it’s likely random crime. I’m in good hands. I promise.”
The words were technically true, even if she didn’t believe them herself. Hank had inherited the private research center several years ago. While he didn’t have the academic background to research himself, he had a love for all things ocean. He shared that passion with the community by offering a donation-only aquarium and tide-pool tours. She’d almost refused his offer to hire her since he also was her uncle. But having family in the place she settled down was so appealing.
When he’d hired her, he’d bent over backward to help Isabelle in any way he could to pursue any hypothesis she wanted. The way he’d believed in her endeared Hank to her like a second father.
“Oh. Random crime? Good,” Hank said. “I mean, crime is not good, but that makes me feel better. Are you sure you’re okay? You have enough money to last the week?”
“I’ll be fine.” Somehow she would be, even if that meant living on the remaining granola bars and gummy bears in her suitcase. “Good night, Hank,” she said tenderly. She hung up and lifted her gaze.
Matt stood at the kitchen entrance, holding two mugs, his face ashen.
* * *
She was taken. Figured. Why it bothered him so much, he couldn’t pinpoint. But the love on her face was undeniable. He wouldn’t ask about this Hank guy, though. He had no right and no reason. Isabelle was just a friend and would remain such. She’d be out of his life once again in a week.
He cleared his throat. “I made you some hot chocolate.” He set the mugs on coasters on the coffee table in front of the couch.
Her eyes lit up. “Sounds perfect.” She sat down on the cushion next to him.
“You can take it to the desk if you have more calls.”
“No, I think I’m okay for now. Thank you.” Her face transformed at the sight of the mug. “Whipped cream and...” She tilted her head. “Cinnamon stick?”
He nodded. “It’s a recipe one of our restaurant chefs passed on. You make the cocoa from a dark chocolate bar with cinnamon and sugar to taste.”
“Oh? You have close friends within the hotel?”
The way she said friends made him smile. Was she trying to sniff out if he had a girlfriend? “Yes, I suppose. But I don’t blur the employer-employee relationship.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “No, of course not. I wasn’t implying—” She leaned forward to pick up the mug.
“But I don’t judge people who do.” He shook his head slightly. Why did that have to slip out?
Her hands froze in midair. She regarded him with a curious look on her face. “I guess it’s different for me. The institute has practically turned into a family business.” She pulled the mug up to her lips and took a tentative sip. “Oh, Matt, this is delicious.” She leaned back into the cushion.
“Family as in future husband, then?” He clamped his jaw shut. Why couldn’t he let this go?
She laughed, and a puff of whipped cream floated to the coffee table. “Sorry.” She leaned forward and used a napkin to wipe it up. “No. Hank is my uncle. I’d do anything for him. I try to separate the family from the business, so I don’t call him uncle, but he’s made the place feel like home.” She twisted to look at him directly. “You know, I’ve always dreamed of getting to settle down in one place without having to move.”
Matt did know. When asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, the answer would always be, “I don’t care as long as I don’t have to move.” Apparently she found the career to match her brilliance, and he couldn’t help but be happy for her.
She took another long sip. “Hank even invited me to spend Christmas with his extended family. It’s been so nice.” Whipped cream lined the top of her lips. He reached over and brushed it off gently with his thumb. He yanked his arm back at the realization of what he’d done. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but she said nothing.
“Sorry.” He tried to form a joke about good customer service but decided it was best to move on. He bent forward and grabbed one of the napkins. “Here you go.”
She blotted her lips with it. “I guess when you’ve spent as much time as we have together...”
She never finished her sentence. Matt really wanted to know the rest of her thought, but he didn’t want to focus anymore on his faux pas. He took his own drink of the cocoa, taking care to make sure the whipped cream didn’t leave a mark on him. “Let’s talk about tomorrow.” He needed to change the subject before the heat in his chest made its way to his cheeks. “Can you access the conference schedule online?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Let’s figure out where you might be vulnerable. To avoid moments like today.”
“You’ve done enough, and—”
“Isabelle, humor me.”
Her blue eyes hit him. The intensity in her gaze disarmed him, and he felt sure for half a second that she could see his very thoughts. She smiled, and he fought the urge to ask her a million questions about their years apart, to experience the same connection they’d once shared. Isabelle stood and brought over the laptop, typed an address into the browser and pointed at the screen.
Their shoulders touched as she settled back into the couch cushions. The ends of her hair brushed against him, and he remembered how she used to lean her head on his shoulder and tell him all about her day at school.
This Isabelle sat rigid, though. “So, as you can see, I’ll be inside the conference center for the entirety of the day.”
“Except for lunch.”
“Well, yes, but I wasn’t planning to leave the building.”
Matt pictured the conference area in his mind’s eye. Attendees would likely flock to Rosario’s or the Amaya Deli, but Isabelle had no wallet, so she wouldn’t be joining them. If he offered room service for breakfast and a sack lunch from the restaurant for lunch, he felt sure Isabelle would refuse. But he couldn’t let her starve. Matt made a mental note of what time the conference started to ensure his staff would deliver both before she left.
Transportation was another problem. Taxis were expensive. While he could afford a few out of his personal funds, he kept to a tight budget so he could pay off his student loans faster. But what he didn’t have in cash, he could access through his network of connections. Both times, Isabelle was attacked on foot. So if she had the advantage of wheels, maybe that would be enough, especially if he knew the drivers. He’d start making phone calls as soon as he said good-night.
“So, aside from the employer-employee relationship, do you have friends here?”
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