Page 45 of Missile Strike

Beneath her windshield wiper, a plain white piece of paper, folded in half, fluttered in the breeze. Isabella huffed. Who were these people who tucked flyers onto windshields, advertising services no one ever needed?

She tossed her purse into the car, then pulled the paper from beneath the windshield wiper and unfolded it. The text was printed in large block letters, reminiscent of an eighties arcade Game Over screen.

Do you think you can escape the missiles? Watch them fall. Watch the people burn.

The paper slipped from her fingers to the asphalt.

Chapter Eleven

Her heart thundered as Isabella whipped her head around to examine the other cars parked in her vicinity. None had a piece of paper on its windshield. Just hers.

Not random.

Chosen.

Was whoever left this note watching her even now?

She scrambled into the driver’s seat and jabbed the lock button on her door. Fumbling for her phone, she glanced out her window, then into the rearview mirror for anyone who might be approaching. The lobby of her office building was too far away. If someone were waiting for her, she’d be exposed the entire way.

Danny. She needed Danny. She pulled up his number.

Answer. Answer. Please answer.

“Bella?”

“There was a note on my car about missiles, people burning—” The words tumbled over each other.

“Breathe, honey. Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.” Danny’s sharp but steady tone blanketed her frazzled nerves.

She inhaled, then exhaled and corralled her scattered thoughts. “I’m at AegisShield. In my car. There was a note on the windshield about missiles falling, people burning.” God, the images the words invoked. “Only on my car—no one else’s that I can see.”

Her fingers found the exposed skin above her knee and dug in, leaving crescent-shaped indentations.

His tone turned savage. “Don’t fucking move, you hear me? Lock the doors and stay on the phone. I’m on my way.”

“What if the person comes back?”

“I texted my contact at CMPD. They’re sending a patrol car now. Hang tight. Don’t start the car and don’t head back into the building.”

“Why not start my car?” she asked. “What if someone approaches, and I need to drive away?”

“Because we can’t be sure someone didn’t tamper with it.” The rumbling purr of Danny’s Mustang came over the line.

A chill swept through her despite the suffocating heat of the car’s interior. “I need to give you the address.”

“I know where you work. Talk to me. Anyone loitering nearby?”

She did another scan. “There’s a guy getting into his car two rows in front of me. He’s not looking my way.” Sure, now there were people around. “A couple of people just exited the building. They’re walking straight to their cars.”

“Good. Keep paying attention. Favorite song.”

“What?” She tore her gaze from the windshield to stare at her phone.

“Favorite song, Bella.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m curious.”