Ryan’s question reveals he missed my exchange with Isaac. I’m not surprised, his vehicle is facing the opposite direction, and we technically clocked-off over forty minutes ago.
“No, ah… it has nothing to do with our case. I’m just curious as to where I’ve seen him before.” Bar my initial stutter, my performance deserves a B+ for deliverance and conviction.
Ryan is a much tougher grader than me. “Is he from your childhood? Should we call in a second unit? Have number 32 watched as well?”
“No! God, no. I wasn’t referencing my childhood. I barely remember a second of my time in Vegas. I’m referencing my time with the Bureau.” I realize I’m doing a terrible job of explaining myself when the worry in Ryan’s eyes triples. “He wasn’t a suspect. He was in some photos I scanned of a target at the time.”
Because my reply isn’t a total lie, it sounds honest. Although Dr. Merritt appears older than he did in the surveillance images I scanned from my uncle’s files, I’m reasonably sure he’s the doctor Isaac visited on rare occasions during his adolescent years.
I stop staring at Dr. Merritt’s driver’s license photo when Ryan asks, “He was Isaac’s oncologist, wasn’t he?”
Even though maintaining Isaac’s privacy should be more important than unscrambling the confusion in my head, I nod. I’m so puzzled, the hallucinogenic way Isaac and I sought a date for our wedding last week feels like it was months ago.
Isaac rarely talks about his past. I thought his reluctance to share was because of Ophelia. Only now, months after discovering Ophelia never died, do I realize that isn’t the case. His childhood is also responsible for some of the invisible scars on his heart and body.
He grew up like an everyday American, except he had an extremely aggressive form of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. His diagnosis was the commencement of his fighting spirit. It also caused the demise of his parents’ relationship. It wasn’t just his illness that fueled their rift, it was the secrets it unearthed.
I’ll be forever grateful Harrison and Camila looked past their indifferences to save Isaac, but I wish it could have been done without a five-year-old knowing what they were sacrificing for him. From the stories I’ve heard from Nick, Harrison didn’t remind Isaac daily as to what he gave up to save his life. It was his mom, Camila.
I guess that’s why we’ve yet to meet. She knows of my existence and is aware I live with Isaac, but excluding a two-line text message on Christmas Day, it’s as if she doesn’t exist. That’s why I’m so confused. Isaac surrounds himself with the people he cares about the most. If you are invited into his inner circle, you’re there for life. I had no clue his olive branch extended this far.
I stray my eyes to Ryan, who’s watching me intently. “What do you think the chances are of a five-year-old maintaining an amicable relationship with the doctor who distributed him aggressive, problematic procedures multiple times a month?”
While grabbing for his seat belt, Ryan replies, “About as unlikely as Isaac not noticing your ogling eyes.”
“You saw him?” The funky beat of my heart is heard in my high tone.
He nods before clicking his belt into place, then cranking the ignition. “Of course, I did. I’m not just good at my job. I’m the best detective Ravenshoe has ever seen.”
His pompousness calms my worry enough I can suck in my first full breath in what feels like minutes. When I exhale it with an edgy smile, Ryan nudges his head in the direction Isaac’s town car just went. “Give him a chance to explain before you get yourself twisted in knots.”
Since he’s aware of my worry, I express it out loud instead of letting it stew. “What if he’s sick again?”
Ryan shakes his head as if it’s not even a possibility. “It may not be as bad as it seems. Take Isaac’s FBI file as an example.”
The knot he referenced earlier unties even more. “I can’t believe we ever kissed—”
His smile flashes the dimples in his top lip. “Why? Because you can’t help but recall how scrumptious my mouth is every time Isaac arrows his toward yours.”
I was going to saybecause we’re too much alike, but that would be weird now. Instead, I latch my belt into place before giving him my best stink eye.
“Oh, Isabelle. Your silence speaks volumes.” He articulates his comment way too high-strung for a straight man. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Isaac you’re infatuated with me. It’ll be our little secret.”
I huff at his gall, but secretly, I love the shake-up in our dynamic. It’s been a long first month on the job, so I’m relishing getting rid of some of my funk forty minutes earlier than I anticipated.
“Isaac would kill you just for insinuating I like you in any sense of the word. Why do you think he asked for you to be my supervisor?” When Ryan looks stumped, I ask, “Name one rookie cop who’s been accused of liking their superior?”
He lets out a cocky laugh. “Clearly, Isaac didn’t speak with my previous undergrads.” I never thought a man could compete with Isaac’s confidence, but Ryan gives it his best shot. “And as I’ve said previously, Isaac Holt doesn’t scare me. I can take care of myself.”
I poke him in his midsection. “I’ll remind you of that the next time you get caught between a three hundred pound hooker and her equally busty friend.”
With his smile blinding, he pulls his cruiser away from the curb. “That was a once-off welcome-to-Ravenshoe PD experience for you. I had everything handled.”
Our playful banter frees the weight sitting heavily on my chest, but nothing slows the theories running rampant through my head on our drive back to Ravenshoe PD headquarters. The thought of losing Isaac to another woman scares me so much, but I’ve never considered the possibility of losing him to something as uncontrollable as the blood cancer he had when he was a child. If I lose him, I won’t be able to live. It’s that simple.
Furthermore, I have an unimaginable amount of guilt to make up for after arresting him. I need more than two lifetimes to fix the mistakes I made.
With that in mind, I yank my cell phone out of my pocket. My lips furl when I see the image Catherine forwarded me earlier. Callie is fast asleep on her bedroom floor. Today was her second week of preschool. She’s clearly finding it as exhausting as my first month back on the job.
