Page 22 of Stealthy Seduction
Their movements were too coordinated to be casual.
Izzy’s gut coiled.
“Hey!” one of them called out. “Hey, man, you got the time?”
Drysdale turned, his expression mildly annoyed. “It’s just past six—”
The first man moved with practiced efficiency, grabbing Drysdale’s coat sleeve while the second one stepped closer. But instead of running like any normal mugger would, the second man’s hand came up. In his grip, something dark and metallic gleamed.
Time slowed.
Izzy’s mouth opened to scream a warning, but the sound stuck in her throat as the crack of gunfire split the evening air.
Drysdale jerked backward, his hands flying to his chest as dark stains bloomed across his tailored shirt. He hit the sidewalk hard, his body convulsing once before going terrifyingly still.
The two men were already moving, disappearing into the crowd with the kind of smooth efficiency that spoke of military training.
Not muggers. Assassins.
Izzy’s knees nearly buckled as the familiar taste of copper flooded her mouth. Her vision tunneled, the sounds of the street fading to a distant roar as her body tried to decide between fight or flight.
A man was just murdered right in front of her.
People around her were screaming now, some rushing toward Drysdale’s body while others scattered. Someone was shouting about calling 911. The chaos was immediate andoverwhelming, and all Izzy could think was that she needed to get away from here. Now.
Without conscious thought, she stumbled backward, then broke into a run. Her boots clicked against the pavement as she fled, her purse clutched tight against her chest. She didn’t stop until she reached the corner, where a yellow taxi was idling at a red light.
She yanked open the door and threw herself inside.
“Drive,” she gasped. “Please, just drive.”
The cabbie, a middle-aged man with concerned eyes, glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “You okay, lady? You look—”
“I’m fine. I just need to get out of here.” Her hands were shaking as she dug through her purse for her wallet. “Take me to Maple and Thornton.”
It wasn’t where she needed to go—it was nowhere near the SEAL team base—but she couldn’t risk giving the driver the real destination. Not if someone was watching. Not if they’d planned this whole thing.
She wasn’t supposed to know anything about the baseat all.Explaining how she knew the location was going to be another difficult chapter in her already complicated life.
The taxi pulled away from the curb, and Izzy slumped back against the seat, her heart hammering against her ribs. Drysdale was dead. Shot right in front of her, minutes after their meeting. That couldn’t be a coincidence. That was a message.
Or maybe it was meant to be a double murder, and she’d just gotten lucky.
The thought made nausea roil in her stomach.
“Actually,” she said when they were still several blocks from her destination, “this is good. I can walk from here.”
“You sure? It’s no trouble to—”
“I’m sure.” She shoved a twenty at him through the partition and bolted from the cab before he could argue.
The evening air felt too thin as she stood on the sidewalk, making it difficult to catch her breath as she watched the taxi disappear into traffic. She was alone now—truly alone—and every shadow seemed to hold a threat.
There was only one place where she would be safe.
The walk to the base took forty minutes of careful route-planning and frequent glances over her shoulder. She stuck to well-lit streets, avoided alleys and changed direction twice to make sure she wasn’t being followed, all the while grateful that she hadn’t worn silly high heels to the meeting and opted for her sensible boots instead.
The entrance to the mansion loomed into view. She’d never actuallyseenthe base, only the inside of the blackout hood.
