“I need access to a sealed file from the DA’s office in New York.”
His eyes meet mine. His brows are furrowed, and his gaze is troubled.
“I can’t, Izzy.” His voice is barely a whisper.
“Please, Brandon, you know I wouldn’t have asked you if it wasn’t important.”
From the personal stories Brandon has shared with me about his life, I can comprehend his hesitation, but I need access to this file for my ongoing private investigation on Hugo. Because the Bureau is focusing their investigation solely on Isaac, they're missing several essential elements that warrant Hugo receiving his own investigation.
The only shred of evidence I've gathered on any Hugo Marshall in the country is a sealed court file for his sister Marjorie. It is sealed so tightly shut, not even an FBI agent can access it.
“I haven’t had any contact with her in years, Izzy. She’ll probably hang up the instant she hears my voice.”
My eyes plead with Brandon’s. Without this file, I’ll have nothing on Hugo, and my investigation will become stagnant. I can’t let this go as my intuition is telling me I need to follow this lead.
Brandon curses under his breath and runs his hand down the front of his face. When his eyes lift back to mine, they're no longer brimming with mischievous. They’re tentative and apprehensive.
“I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get the file for you,” he warns.
Childishly squealing, I sling my arms around Brandon’s broad shoulders. “Thank you, Brandon, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
When I pull away from our embrace, which has gained us the attention of our fellow officers, Brandon’s cheeks have turned a pink hue.
“It will cost you, though.” He winks.
I eagerly nod. I’m happy to accept any meaningless task to get my hot little hands on that file.
“I need you to do a search on this lady,” he informs me, giving me a closed manila folder.
I snatch the record out of his hand and nod in understanding.
“And you have to go on a date with me.”
My baffled eyes shoot to Brandon’s as my brows scrunch. Confusion clusters in my mind on why guilt was the first thing clouding my judgment. In the past four months, I’ve only seen Isaac a handful of times, but he is always in the forefront of my mind. I’m also shocked. Brandon hasn’t asked me out on a date in months. I assumed he either got the hint, or another lady caught his eye.
“One date, Izzy, that’s all I’m asking.” Brandon’s apprehensive eyes glance into mine.
“Okay,” I reply, ignoring the ridiculous notion there is any type of relationship between Isaac Holt and me. “But it will have to be after I return. I’m going away with Harlow this weekend.”
He nods as a broad smile stretches across his handsome face, easing my uncertainty. Brandon is a wonderful guy, and he has been nothing but kind to me since I arrived. I ought to be thankful someone like Brandon is interested in me, not apprehensive.
“Why don’t you come to my apartment and I’ll cook dinner?”
Brandon smiles a full-toothed grin. “Sounds great.”
Returning his smile, I open the manila folder he supplied me with. There are numerous surveillance photos of a lady with shoulder-length brown hair. She is of medium build, and I'd guess her age to be mid-twenties. She is attractive, but there is something about her that makes me want to cringe.
“Who is this lady?” Curiosity is heard in my tone.
Brandon shrugs. “We don’t know. We’ve noticed her a few times hanging around the nightclub the past several weeks. We believe she may be a companion of Isaac’s.”
My stomach recoils from the way he says companion. No wonder I got a peculiar feeling when I glanced at her photos.
“I haven’t seen Isaac with a girlfriend the entire time he has been under surveillance, but this lady has been in the picture a lot more regularly than his standard dates, so she may be someone significant in his life.”
“Alright, I’ll see what I can find out about her,” I reply, ignoring the harsh bitterness rising to my throat.
