Page 14 of Mountain Challenge

“The other cars on the street are fine,” he said, his voice low and reasonable. “It appears only your car was targeted, Isla.”

Her shoulders slumped forward. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she forced them back. This time, when she shivered, it wasn’t just with cold.

“Hey.” His hand squeezed her shoulder, his touch strong but gentle at the same time. “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to get you out of the cold, and we’re going to call the police.”

“The police?” Isla asked, hating how squeaky her voice sounded. She wanted nothing but to lean into his touch, which was crazy. She couldn’t just expect this man to fix things for her.

His phone was already in his hand. “It’s going to be okay, Isla. Trust me.”

Something sharp pulled at her chest. Why was he being so kind? She shouldn’t be relying on him. She should tell him to go, that she’d figure it out herself, but she couldn’t force the words out. She listened to him speak to someone on the phone for abrief minute, then let him herd her back towards her studio. When her frozen hands shook too much, he took the keys from her in his warm palm and unlocked the door for her. And though she’d gone numb, inside and out, she couldn’t help but notice how the whole time he kept his large body between her and the street.

Ry

Isla looked tired. Beyond tired. He looked down at his watch. It was closing in on ten p.m. and she looked dead on her feet. All he wanted to do was take her into his arms and promise her that everything was going to be alright. Not that he could make such a promise. It was a fact that somebody had slashed her tires.

He’d bundled her into his winter jacket earlier, so at least she no longer shook like a leaf, which made Ry feel marginally better. There was no way she could have spent any amount of time outside in that ridiculous leather jacket. She would have been on her way to the hospital, hypothermic, by now.

The need to protect her, to keep her safe and warm, was overwhelming, even though he understood logically he had no right to feel this way. He had no claim on her. But damn, he suddenly wished he did. The wind blew right through the thin fleece he wore, chilling him. Ry blew on his hands to warm them.

Vincent, the leading gendarme who’d been called to the scene, walked up to him. “There’s nothing else we can do, Ry. I’m sorry.”

There were no cameras outside the tattoo studio, and they were no closer to identifying the culprits now than they’d been two hours earlier, but his colleagues had done everythingby the book. They’d taken prints and photographs, questioned neighbors, the whole nine yards.

“It wasn’t an accident,” Ry said, looking at his colleague for confirmation.

“Not an accident. The tires were slashed with a folding pocket knife.”

Great. Everybody and their brother had that kind of knife here in Chamonix. Hell, Ry carried one on his key chain, and he bet Vincent did as well.

Together, they watched the compact car get towed by one of the local garages.

“We’re leaving now,” Vincent said, signaling to his team to pack up. “We’ll let you know if anything new comes to light.”

“Thank you, Vincent,” Ry said. He knew a team of three was overkill for this kind of incident, but the Chamonix gendarmerie took care of their own. Ry would do the same if their roles were reversed.

Isla walked up to them. “I’m sorry we wasted your evening,” she said to Vincent.

“You didn’t. It’s our job. We’ll be in touch,MademoiselleBernard.”

Ry waited until they were alone before speaking again. “Slashed tires are no joke, Isla.”

“I don’t have any enemies,” she insisted. She’d said the same thing to the gendarmes multiple times. “I only moved to Chamonix six months ago, and customers are happy with my work. I promise you. This has to be a mistake.” Then her mouth opened in an enormous yawn. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Come on. There’s nothing else we can do here. Let me take you home.”

The corners of her lips lifted at that. “That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier. I wasn’t going to drive. I live right upstairs.”She pointed at the staircase on the side of the building, climbing up to the first floor.

For the second time that evening, Ry waited while she locked up the studio. It was dark now, much darker than it had been the first time they’d done this.

Isla stopped at the corner, putting her hand out awkwardly. “Well, this is me. Thank you for your help tonight.”

Ry ignored her hand, moving in behind her. “I’ll walk you up.”

7

Isla

Ry stood protectively behind her as she opened the front door. A blast of warm air hit her, and she was suddenly glad she’d left her heating on low all day.

---