Although I’ll never side with a criminal, I can understand Isaac’s quest for revenge. Ryan showed me the evidence the DA failed to log when Isabelle was arrested. The brutality the male officers used when arresting her was excessive. It’s lucky Isaac got to them first, because if it were a member of my team, they wouldn’t be cuffed to a hospital bed. They’d be doing hard time with some of the criminals they’ve taken down. You never put your hands on a woman, much less one who’s on your team.
Or was. I’m truly unsure on which side of the law Isabelle now resides.
While clambering out of the passenger seat of Ryan’s unmarked car, I take in the large stone house with arched windows looking out over a vista of manicured gardens and manly hedges. Compared to Isaac’s pad in the middle of Ravenshoe, this property has a more homey feel to it.
“First time here?” I ask upon spotting Ryan’s dropped jaw.
“Yeah. You?”
I nod. I was too busy convincing a judge I had the means to detain Isaac to conduct his search warrant last month.
Just before my knuckles rap a large arched door, a mumble rumbles through it. I cock my brow before locking my eyes with Ryan. He hears my silent interrogation. How do I know this since we’ve only just met? He removes his gun from his hip as rapidly as I do.
When a second mangled groan rolls through the door, Ryan nudges his head to a side entrance. “I’ll cover the back.”
I nod before ringing the doorbell. I’m not announcing to the suspect that we’re on to him; I’m convincing him we’re regular visitors. If he believes we’re the mailman or a gardener, he’ll be less likely to make a costly mistake.
My gun drops from its braced position when a petite lady of approximately sixty opens the door. Her gray hair is pulled back in a bun, and she is holding a carton of juice.
“Is everything okay, ma’am? We heard groans of distress.”
Her eyes flutter in apology before she gestures for me to enter the foyer. Since Ryan’s attempts to enter Isaac’s property from another vantage point were futile, he follows me. We latch the safeties on our guns when we discern the source of the noise. It isn’t someone crying out for help. It is a woman in the midst of ecstasy.
Ryan runs his hand along his jaw to hide his smile. I’m glad he can find amusement in our situation. I’m anything but amused. Isaac is a criminal, a man who has more to answer for than a few speeding tickets. He shouldn’t be enjoying life. He should be behind bars.
Another ten minutes pass before Isabelle and Isaac gallop down the large curved stairwell, making my anger more paramount. I have very important things I could be doing; instead, I’m stuck waiting around for him.
“Oh my god,” Isabelle murmurs loud enough for Ryan and me to hear.
Her cheeks inflame as her eyes shift to Isaac. He looks as smug as a pig in mud, as if he’s pleased we witnessed the grandeur of his life. I’m sure I can cut down his attitude a few notches. We called a truce two days ago, but that was only in effect when Isabelle was in danger. All bets are now off, and my patience is stretched thin.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ryan says when Isaac and Isabelle stop to stand in front of us. The humor in his tone can’t weaken the sternness of his next set of words. “We have a few questions we need to ask you in regards to the investigation on the police officers who were kidnapped and held in your yacht.”
“We?” Isaac’s lowered eyes dart between Ryan and me. “Since when did the FBI and the Ravenshoe Police Department become allies?”
Frustrated by the humor in his tone, I snap, “When we found asubjectwe had common ground on.”
If my stance doesn’t advise Isaac our truce is over, the glare I give Isabelle is a sure-fire indication. I’m disappointed in her. I thought she was smarter than this. She could have been a brilliant agent if she looked at Isaac through the eyes of an agent instead of a woman, but she can’t come back from this. She’s stepped too far on the wrong side of the law; she just has no clue how far.
I return my eyes to Isaac. “The police officers were found bound and gagged in your yacht. The same yacht you chartered out of the Vela De Keys Marina on the afternoon the police officers were kidnapped.”
Isaac grins like the smug prick he is. “Not everything is black and white. There’s a whole lot of gray no one pays any attention to.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. There is a logical reason for everything.”
Air rustles between Isaac’s teeth as he struggles to hold back his chuckle. “Now it all makes sense.”
The smell of a cologne that forever features in my nightmares smacks into me when Isaac steps closer. My concern that Isabelle can’t see through the haze Isaac has engulfed her in fades when she tugs on his arm in an effort to keep us apart. I appreciate her concern, but she doesn’t need to fret. I’ve taken down men much more powerful than Isaac during my time at the Bureau. It just never held the level of anticipation as it does this time around.
“What makes sense?” I ask Isaac, encouraging him to continue with his arrogant, pompous statement.
He follows along nicely. “Why you’ve been so persistent in investigating me.”
“I’ve been persistentlyinvestigating you because you're a criminal,” I reply, stating the obvious.
When I return my eyes to Isabelle, Isaac adjusts his position to block her from my view. If that doesn’t show he’s worried she’ll soon see the real him, I don’t know what will.
My eyes snap to Isaac when he says, “It has nothing to do with me being a criminal. You’re only investigating me because you're jealous.”
