Page 17 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
She smiles and shakes her head, excitement is beaming out of her.
“It isn’t a raging party, just a friend and me having some drinks. You’re more than welcome to tag along,” I inform her, smiling.
Since I don’t have a car, Harlow offers to pick me up from Regina’s house at nine tonight. By the time I walk back into the office building located across from Isaac’s nightclub, the coffees I purchased are stone cold.
Alex grumbles under his breath as he reheats his coffee in the microwave in the galley kitchen, but his angry mood can’t sour my excitement. I haven’t been out dancing in months, but even more thrilling than that’s the fact I’ve made a friend.
I miss having the close connection of a girlfriend. As much as I love Regina, she mothers me too much for me to consider her a confidante. I need a female companion to discuss the conflicting emotions I’m currently feeling for Isaac Holt.
Hold on, what?
I’m an FBI agent. Any feelings I’m considering need to be squashed. I can’t consider befriending someone like Isaac Holt, let alone develop feelings for him. I need to crush the idea of any relationship and treat him like the blood-sucking leech his FBI file leads me to believe he is.
But, my Uncle Tobias always said you should never judge anyone by other people’s opinions. He’d often quote, “Until you have a legitimate reason not to like someone, you should treat them how you wish to be treated.” Isaac certainly hasn’t done anything to me that warrants me disliking him.
He may be crude and cocky, but I’d be lying if I said his vulgarity didn’t turn me on. I haven’t stopped thinking about the way he smelled when he cornered me in the run-down pub’s alcove, let alone the scenes from the plane playing on repeat in my dreams every night.
When a hand slams down on my desk, I jump in fright. I’m so startled, I spill my now iced coffee down the front of my shirt. After grabbing a handful of tissues out of my desk drawer, my furious eyes lift to the unamused face of Alex staring down at me.
“I’ve been calling your name the past five minutes,” he rudely informs me. “What has you so intrigued you can’t follow a simple command?”
“Umm, I was just thinking…”I scan the photos on my desk, trying to think of a legitimate reason why I failed to respond without mentioning I was once again fantasizing about Isaac. “… that I don’t believe this gentleman is an associate of Isaac’s.” I lift a photo of the man I saw driving Isaac’s car earlier this week. “I think he’s his bodyguard.”
Alex removes the photo from my hand to appraise it more thoroughly.
“What makes you think he’s a bodyguard and not an associate?” For the first time in the past two months, his tone sounds neutral.
“Anytime he’s been photographed with Isaac, he’s either driving his car, or he completes surveillance of the area.” I rise from my desk to gather several other images of Isaac’s bodyguard I have printed the past few days.“An associate wouldn’t drive the car while Isaac sat in the backseat, he’d sit in the back right along with him,” I continue, impressing myself with my ability to think on the spot.
An impromptu grunt rolls up Alex’s chest as he flicks through the photos. “So, I guess we can cross him off our list and focus our attention solely back onto Isaac.”
“No,” I shout, probably a little too loud as Michelle lets out a squeal. “There’s something about this guy that has me intrigued.”I snatch the photos out of Alex’s grasp to find the picture I was researching yesterday. “I can’t for the life of me work out why he hasn’t come up in any of the facial recognition searches I’ve completed on him the past two days.”
Alex’s brows squeeze, apparently unimpressed I’ve been undertaking searches without seeking his permission.
“He has worked in a government department before, which means he should be in our database,” I advise, pacifying the angry scowl on Alex’s face.“This tattoo is a symbol of an Air Force squadron. That squad only returned from Afghanistan two years ago. Only squad members can get that tattoo.” I hand Alex two photos. One is the original picture of Isaac and his bodyguard jogging, and the other is zoomed in on the tattoo I’m referring to.
My fingers run over the keyboard on my desk to bring up the information I found on the tattoo yesterday afternoon. I enlarge the squadron member tattoo on the screen and turn my monitor toward Alex. He holds the photo against the computer screen mere seconds before a heart-fluttering smile tugs his lips high.
“Brandon, I need you to get me someone high in the U.S. Air Force, now!” Alex strides toward Brandon. His hasty retreat stops before he turns around to face me. “You did a good job, Isabelle.”
A mammoth smile spreads across my face.
“See if you can find any other members of his squadron. Maybe they can help us identify him.”
Eagerly nodding, I sit at my desk. My heart is galloping with excitement at being assigned my first official task as an FBI field agent.
CHAPTER10
When Harlow picks me up at nine, excitement is beaming from me. I’ve spent the majority of my day searching for ex-squadron members. I secured a reliable source that may assist me in discovering the identity of the man who works with Isaac. I scanned his photo to my contact earlier tonight. He’s going to show it to a tattoo parlor owner who has tattooed the squadron symbol previously. He may be able to assist me in tracking down an ex-squadron member who’s willing to talk to me. Most hang up the instant I advise them I’m from the FBI. Obviously, there’s no comradery amongst colleagues.
“Wow, you scrub up nice,” praises Harlow when I slip into the passenger seat of her car.
Smiling, I roam my eyes over her tight black dress. “As do you.” A wolf whistle sounds from my lips.
Other than her big, beaming smile, she looks completely different out of her work clothes. Her hair is no longer pulled back in a low ponytail, instead, hanging loosely down her back. This is the first time I’ve realized her auburn brown hair is curly. Her lips are glossed with bright red lipstick, and her eyes are done in a dramatic Cleopatra way. She’s gorgeous, and she will give all the young girls on the dance floor a run for their money tonight.
“Here.” Harlow offers me a tube of lipstick as she pulls her car away from the curb. “It will match the color of your dress perfectly.”
