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“Fletcher is behind it. He’s got to be. The timing of the attacks was dubious. I mean, right after I caught Fletcher in Kenya? Trying to get his woman?”
“Maybe. We won’t know for sure. It’ll take some time to get to the bottom of it.”
“Do you think I’m going to create a Trojan war here?”
“I’m just a PI, Clay, not a historian,” he says, straight-faced. “Don’t forget, those attacks happened not long after that sucker sabotaged us.”
Following his failure to secure the contract with the US Air Force, Fletcher lodged an appeal, claiming collusion and corruption—knowing that I was close to General Adler. He lost the appeal, and then retaliated by attempting to sabotage VesslScope, creating his own war with Hartley Marine. He and his company came out unscathed, and in the end, a rogue engineer took the fall. I don’t know how his company is still in operation, but hey, I guess that’s business. Super dirty.
“He’s never a gracious loser,” Blake adds. “So the reason for the attacks could be as simple as that—and not because you tried to steal his prized possession.”
“Jesus, Blake! She’s not his possession!”
“I know. But the man thinks so.”
I sigh, “Fair point.”
“Trojan war or not, if you love her, nothing else should matter. You’ve done all you can to protect yourself. A king who never leaves his castle will never find his queen.”
I cackle at his seriousness. But it’s actually not bad advice.
Blake clears his throat. “A word of caution. Fletcher’s deals in Africa are falling apart. The Chinese developers, just like Fletcher, are bitter losers, and no doubt they knew who tipped off the CIA about the deals. I won’t be surprised if they or Fletcher are planning more vicious attacks. I hope you’re ready.”
“We are,” I declare. We have no choice but to be ready, but what it’s going to look like—I don’t know yet.
“Hey, I’ve got to go.” Blake gets up.
“So you don’t think love will be my downfall this time?”
He makes a slight detour to give my shoulder a firm pat. And in typical Blake fashion, he leaves me to answer my own question.
This game of ‘yes or no’ playing in my head is no good for anyone. I have to take the plunge. Isabelle isn’t just some woman. She’s a great mother and lover, and a person with the biggest heart I’ve known. Her son is proof. I don’t have to look further.
I peek at her letter I shoved inside my drawer. It’s facedown, but I swear I can read every word written on the other side. This fantasy of hers isn’t going to be my demise. The lovemaking I have in mind—the kind she asked for and more—can only happen because of all the trust we’ve forged.
Adler has fast-tracked the second-phase testing of VesslScope-AV, and Isabelle’s confession is enough reason for me to fast-track a different kind of engineering.
22
ISABELLE
With only one doctor available, the ER is in utter chaos this morning.
“Where’s Dr. Fawcett?” I ask around.
“He’s gone home.”
I’m trying to comfort an expectant mother who’s been pleading with me not to send her away.
“I’m really not feeling good,” she begs.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I approach my supervisor. “Please, you can’t send her home.”
“Dr. Fawcett had examined her. It’s gastro. She doesn’t have to stay here—we’re short of beds as we are!”
“Her fever is a hundred and five! It could be sepsis. I’ve seen it before. Please, don’t send her home.”
“You’re a doctor now, Martin?”
