Page 11 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“Do you have any Splenda?” I ask a staff member named Harlow, who’s been preparing my coffee order every morning this past month.
Harlow is a ball of mischief bundled into a bakery uniform. Her humor is a little crude and dry, but she has kept me on my toes with her wittiness.
Harlow hands me a handful of Splenda.“Sugar wouldn’t kill you.”
I try to think of a sharp comeback, but I’m left a little speechless. I have a slender build, but I wouldn’t say I’m skinny. I have a runner’s body, although I have more boobs than Olympic athletes have. I work hard to maintain my body shape. By skipping the sugar in my coffee, I won’t feel guilty devouring the blueberry and chocolate chip muffin I ordered with it. It’s all about getting the balance right.
Instead of giving an appropriate comeback to Harlow’s taunt, I stick my tongue out.
“Earlier this morning, I licked the muffins.”
She sticks out her tongue before moving away from the coffee machine to hand some customers their orders. I tug open the white paper bag holding my muffin to inspect it for lick marks. It doesn’t appear to have been licked, and with how hungry I am, I’d still eat it even if she did lick it.
Harlow’s rowdy chuckle echoes around the bakery when she notices me inspecting my muffin. “I was joking about licking the muffins.” She hands me the two crates of coffee I ordered. “Same time tomorrow?”
Rolling my eyes, I nod. Although I have no doubt I’ll be revisiting this bakery this afternoon.
Upon exiting the bakery, a black Mercedes-Benz town car halts my hasty departure. I don’t need to see the occupant to know who’s inside. The license plate is all the indication I need.Isaac.
Stepping back into the nook, I stalk the car that has come to a stop at the corner of First Avenue and Welsh Boulevard. My chest thrusts up and down when Isaac glides out of the back passenger door of his shiny black car. Just the authoritative way he walks adds an exciting visual to my nightly routine. It’s been over a month since our flight, yet he still invades my dreams every night.
My eyes dart up and down the street, anticipating to see the blue surveillance van that tails Isaac’s every move. I’m surprised when I fail to locate it in the street.
This is it—the opportunity I’ve been waiting for to prove my worth to Alex.
Dumping the coffees into a waste bin, I creep closer to Isaac. My years of training activate in an instant. I maintain a safe distance and stay on the opposite side of the road to ensure my pursuit goes unnoticed.
Today, Isaac is wearing a tailored, fitted dark blue business suit with a light blue dress shirt underneath. He’s minus the tie he usually wears in most surveillance photos. His black dress shoes are so polished, they gleam in the sunlight, and his gray eyes are covered with a pair of expensive-looking aviator sunglasses.
When he enters a flamboyant-looking restaurant, I cross the street. As I dart between a steady line of cars, my eyes once again scan my surroundings. There’s still no blue surveillance van in sight.
Istroll up to the restaurant expecting the doorman to welcome me with open arms. He doesn’t. He snubs me, and the door remains closed. I eye him peculiarly, wordlessly demanding an explanation for his rudeness.With quirked lips, his eyes roam my trousers, fitted ribbed shirt, and black ballet flats. Grinning, he nudges his head to the patrons seated inside the restaurant. They’re dressed more elegantly than me.
“There’s a public restroom one block over,” he announces, his tone snobbish.
Masking the urge to stick my tongue out at the pretentious man, I smile sweetly before heading to the far corner of the restaurant.Peering through the paned glass windows won’t cost me a cent.
I spot Isaac in the restaurant, kissing the cheek of a lady with shiny black hair. He removes his suit jacket and hooks it on the back of the chair before sitting across from her. She smiles an evil grin when he hands her a sealed white envelope.
Come on, where the hell are you?I silently question when my third scan of the street still fails to locate the surveillance team that’s been tailing Isaac for months.
More times than not, Isaac’s meetings are with reputable business associates or his fighter, Jacob. This morning, they’re missing a prime opportunity. This lady has never popped up in the numerous surveillance photos I’ve scanned into the FBI database every day since I have been here.
Realizing I need to match brains with brawn, I yank my cell out of my pocket. My hands grow clammy when I snap a sneaky picture of Isaac’s companion while the doorman is distracted by clientele entering the premises.
Hiding behind a potted hedge, I drop my eyes to the screen of my cell. A grunted sigh puffs from my nostrils when the early morning sun reflecting on the window covers half of Isaac’s companion’s face.
Scarcely breathing, I snap another pic. It turns out just as bad as the first.
“Think, Isabelle, think.”
I know, I’ll call Alex.
It takes me scanning my short list of contacts twice before I realize Alex never gave me his cell phone number.He’d hate to make me feel like I’m a part of his team.
After taking a few seconds to settle the nerves fluttering in my stomach, I dial a number known by heart.
“Federal Bureau of Investigation, how may I direct your call?” questions the switchboard operator.
