I don’t know whether to laugh or cry when Isabelle shakes her head while saying, “I plead the fifth.”
Is she maintaining her rights because she doesn’t trust me, or does she use humor to reflect her anguish? I don’t know her well enough to give a definitive answer. I know her, I just don’t know know her if that makes any sense.
Even uneased, one thing is clear—she needs to be more cautious than she has been. “You need to be vigilant about anything you say or do over the next few days.” When she nods without hesitation, I test her trust to the extreme. “Is Isaac Holt Mr. Unattainable?”
I watch her with uneased restlessness, knowing her answer but unsure if she trusts me enough to share her secret.
When she nods for the second time, I breathe out my relief that she trusts me. “Jesus, Isabelle. How long?”
Hesitation crosses her features first. It’s quickly chased by honesty. “Officially, a little over a month.” When the color drains from my cheeks, she rushes out, “But I met him before I knew he was being investigated.” She lowers her girly squeal before revealing, “I’m petrified of flying.” She takes a breather like just talking about her fear has made her scared. “I was working up the courage to enter the boarding area at the airport when my push off the railing had me crashing into Isaac.” A smile replaces her frown. “Isaac took care of me. He iced the bump on my head before offering up a pain reliever for my throbbing head. I didn’t think I’d see him again, so you can imagine my surprise when I was seated next to him for my flight to Ravenshoe. If that wasn’t already shocking, it was a business-class seat.”
Business class?
“You flew business class?” Nothing but shock registers on my face, even more so when Isabelle nods. Nothing against Tobias, but he left a good chunk of debt behind when he passed. He took out a thirty-year mortgage on his house to buy Isabelle. He still had a decade worth of payments left to make, and I’m not going to mention the funds he wasted on an apartment he never lived in, or you’ll be looking at me as if I’m a rich schmuck when you discover I paid off his debt with some of the money my grandfather left me. I couldn’t bring Tobias back, but I could make things a little easier for Isabelle as I wish I could have for Melody years earlier.
“Who paid for your flight?”
Isabelle glares at me like I’m stupid. “The Bureau.”
I almost roll my eyes as if to say, duh. I might look young, but I’m not stupid.
“Did you request for your ticket to be upgraded to business class?” When she shakes her head, my suspicion grows. “Did Isaac have any way of knowing you were on his flight?” He’s doing some shady shit right now that will impact Isabelle, so who’s to say he wasn’t back then?
Isabelle gets in half a head shake before her brows pull together. “Isaac collected my belongings from the floor, so he may have seen the boarding pass I had printed earlier that day, but it would have only been for the quickest second—” Her words stop when the supply room door rockets open.
Alex enters the room, killing our conversation in an instant. Although I trust him, it isn’t enough to update him on the information Phillipa and I have unearthed the past three days. I haven’t even told Grayson yet.
A tick impinges my jaw when Alex’s eyes land on mine. They’re as arrogant as his comment. “It’s after eleven, and the report I requested first thing this morning is still not finalized, yet you have time for a chit-chat with Isabelle in the supply room. Perhaps I need to increase your workload?” The report he’s requesting landed in his inbox before he arrived at the office this morning. This is just his way of telling me to piss off.
After diverting his focus to Isabelle, Alex says, “I need to see you in my office.” Confident she’ll jump when demanded, he pivots on his heels and stalks to the door, his brutal pace only slowing when Isabelle doesn’t immediately jump to his command. “Now, Isabelle.”
His clipped tone launches Isabelle into action. After straying her panicked eyes to mine, she races out of the room, falling in step with Alex’s long strides within seconds. While she most likely will be placed on suspension, I dig my phone out of my pocket to call Grayson. When my call goes unanswered, I try Phillipa’s number. Her plane was scheduled to land right around the time Isabelle’s interview commenced.
“Hey, how’d you go?” she questions, not bothering to issue a greeting.
I rake my fingers through my hair for the second time, amplifying how badly in need of a trim it is. “Not good but better than expected.”
I want to ask if she knew Isabelle was living in an apartment owned by Isaac, but I don’t know if our trust circle extends that far yet. She has a file that could change my viewpoint on life in an instant, but until she places it into my hot little hands. My expectations must remain low, I’ve been burned in the past for issuing trust too quickly. I’d rather sidestep another scold.
“Have you just landed?”
A plane taking off almost drowns out her reply, “Yeah, I’m sliding into the back of a cab as we speak. Where do you want to meet?”
My first thought is at HQ. However, if Phillipa bumps into Theresa, things could get mighty uncomfortable remarkably fast. “Can you come to my apartment? I have a heap of time off in lieu to take.”
“All right.” I could be wrong, but I swear a touch of excitement is dangling off Phillipa’s vocal cords. “I should be there in around thirty. Will that work for you?”
“Thirty works. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“See you then.”
When she disconnects our call, I slide my phone into my pocket before entering the hub of HQ. I’m not surprised to see Isabelle is packing her desk. An unpaid suspension is the Bureau’s go-to punishment when an agent goes rogue. It’s a penalty I’ve been handed twice in my almost five-year career.
Isabelle startles when I offer to walk her out. She was too busy returning Theresa’s glare to notice my approach. After a final snarl, she devotes her attention to me. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want you thrown under the bus with me.”
I shoo away her worry as if it’s a fly. “I don’t care what they think. You’re my friend, Izzy, and until proven guilty, which will never happen, I’ll have your back.” There’s no doubt in my mind she’s in a physical relationship with our target, but that doesn’t mean she should be thrown in jail on false charges. The angle Theresa is working is weak at best, and I’m more than willing to show her just how pathetic it is.
Isabelle bumps me with her hip. “Thanks, Brandon.”
