Page 173 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“Fuck,” Hunter’s groan is long and breathlessly.
“Do you still have those back doors open from last week? The ones that included the low-security issues?” I keep my volume on the down-low, unconvinced there aren’t any ears listening to my private conversation. My trust is very low at the moment, hopefully as low as my voice.
“Uh-huh, Why?”
“I need you to monitor the threat in case anynewissues surface from it…” I stop talking when the creak of a door sounds into the room. When I discover the intruder is Regan, I twist to face the mirrored wall before devoting my attention back to Hunter. “Everything is to come straight to me. I’ll send Hugo to assist you.”
“I understand.” Hunter is good like this. He doesn’t need me to spell everything out for him. He sees the gray hiding between the black and white everyone else only sees. It’s why I chose him to helm my security team. “I won’t let you down.”
When he disconnects our call, I speed dial Hugo’s number.
“Boss.” His voice is low, but the unasked questions relayed through his tone are the loudest of them all.
“Isabelle is okay, a little rattled, but she’s strong.”
Hugo huffs, relieved.
“Where are you?”
I haven’t laid eyes on him since we followed Ryan into the hub of the police department over an hour ago.
“Sitting in a tea room with a dozen cops gawking at me.”
A grin etches onto my mouth when “Boo!” comes shrieking down the line—no doubt, Hugo taunting the officers staring peculiarly at him. He’s not a fan of cops. His aversion wasn’t something he’s always felt. It just steadily built after the death of his sister, Marjorie, and unborn nephew.
I wait for his chuckles to die down before giving him my orders. “I need you to go to the Dungeon to give Hunter access to my servers. He has a few things he requires your assistancewith.”
“All right.” Heavy footsteps bellow down the line. “I’ll head there now. I’ll update you the instant I know anything.”
“Thanks.”
After disconnecting our call, I house my phone into the breast pocket of my jacket. When I pivot around to face Regan, I catch the quickest glimpse of the apprehension tainting her face before she can shut it down. This is the first time I’ve ever seen her lack confidence. Generally, it oozes out of her. That’s the most significant difference between Isabelle and Regan. Regan knows how gorgeous she is. Isabelle doesn’t have a clue about the vast appeal her captivating features and alluring body have with the opposite sex. That, in turn, makes her even more beautiful.
When Regan notices I’ve noticed her uneasy gaze, her lips curve into an anxious smirk. Her unnerving composure sets me on edge, increasing the pressure on my chest.
“Where’s Isabelle?”
She steps closer to me. Not even her strides are as cocky. “They’re taking her to a holding cell so they can free up the interrogation room for another suspect being brought in.” Excitement bristles the fine hairs on my body. The sensation doesn’t linger for long. “No, it doesn’t relate to Megan’s case.”
“Are there any other prisoners in her holding cell?”
Regan spreads her hands across her cocked hip. “Give me some credit, Isaac. She wouldn’t have lasted an hour in a holding cell with other prisoners if they discovered she’s an FBI agent.”
“I know. That’s why she shouldn’t be in there.” Ignoring the massive knot in my stomach, I lock my eyes with Regan before spelling out my demands. “I want to take her home.”
Apprehension flashes through her usually expressionless eyes. “I’m sorry, you can’t. The courts are closed until nine tomorrow morning, but even if they were open, Isabelle won’t be summoned for at least three days. With the evidence they have—”
“What evidence?” My angry snarl echoes off the paint-peeled gray walls. “They can’t have any fucking evidence because she didn’t do anything wrong!”
Her lips thin into a straight line. “You need to calm down. You won’t help anyone by acting all gung ho.” Her demeanor is surprisingly calm for how hard-lined her face is.
I suck in many big breaths, praying it will dampen the anger surging through my body so fast. My veins feel like they’re about to explode.
“I’m only going to ask this once.” Regan’s tone is flat and reserved, nearly as bleak as my mood is becoming. “Do you believe Isabelle killed Megan?”
Fury burns through my body like an out-of-control fire, my anger so paramount, my face reddens from its furious burn.
“I’m only asking because of the evidence they have on her, Isaac. I’m worried she doesn’t fully recall the events that happened today. That would be understandable after the dramatic events she’s encountered the past week. She may have post-traumatic stress disorder, so she’s unable to comprehend what is happening.”
