Page 174 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
I glare at Regan, my chest thrusting up and down with every breath I take. “Look into her eyes while asking her that same question you just asked me. She’s telling the truth, Regan. I can see it in her eyes.”
Regan nods, believing me. “Okay. Then I’ll defend her to the best of my ability, but this will be a tough case to win. They have a lot of evidence against her.”
“What do they have?” I ask, unable to grasp how they could gain any evidence against her for a crime she didn’t commit.
“A bullet that’s a match to the bullets in Isabelle’s gun was found at the crime scene. It has blood on it. They’re testing the DNA to see if it’s a match to Megan.” Her face is paler than I’ve seen it before, more gaunt too. “They also found Isabelle’s fingerprints and a strand of her hair in Megan’s motel room.”
Fuck!Before I can articulate a better response, my narrowed gaze shifts to the door Ryan is walking through. His eyes gleam when he scans Regan’s body, but the interested sparkle in them isn’t as bright as it was when he arrived at the restaurant with Isabelle on his arm for our combined date.
Once he finishes his avid assessment of Regan’s body, which is remarkably minus the tongue- hanging-out-of-their-mouths response most men give her, his blue eyes drift to mine. I nod at his silent question. He is cautious about speaking in front of Regan. He doesn’t need to be. She never discloses anything she isn’t first permitted to divulge.
“I’m on the case.” He moves deeper into the room, his stride as unsteady as his facial expression. “The evidence they have on Isabelle has me a little concerned.”
“Regan was just filling me in. You need to dig deeper into where this evidence surfaced from because you know as well as I do that Isabelle didn’t do this. Someone is framing her for Megan’s murder.”And when I find out who it is, they’ll pay harshly for their error.
Ryan nods. “I’ve always trusted my gut, and it’s warning me that something about this case isn’t right. The evidence was gathered too quickly, and it has the FBI’s murky fingerprints all over it.”
Regan’s eyes snap to Ryan’s faster than a bullet fired out of a gun. “Then pull rank. Get the FBI off this case. If there are too many hands in the cookie jar, things will get messy.”
Ryan’s lips thin. “Thanks for the suggestion, but one, I don’t work for you. And two, I don’t work for you.” Ignoring Regan’s scolding glare burning a hole in his head, Ryan shifts on his feet to face me. “I had a run-in with the head of the FBI division in Ravenshoe when you called me about Megan weeks ago, so it’ll be my pleasure to ‘piss on his turf’ again as he quoted numerous times during our meeting.”
A smirk carves on my mouth, grateful Ryan is bringing his bat to the game, but I can’t get ahead of myself. There are still many matters we need to work through before I can celebrate. Such as “Did they find Megan’s body?”
A pang of hesitation crosses over his face before he shakes his head. As he scrubs at the day-old stubble on his chin, his glacier-blue eyes lock with mine. “Did you call in any…favors?”
A growl emits from my lips. What’s it with everyone asking me that today? “If I did, Isabelle wouldn’t be sitting in a holding cell right now. This isn’t me. And it also wasn’t her.”
Ryan lifts his hands in defeat. “All right. I get it, but I had to ask. I know you’ve tried to stay out of that lifestyle, Isaac, but…” He stops talking as his shoulders lift into a questioning hunch.
I let his underhanded snipe at my reputation roll off my back. I’ve become accustomed to the false accusations that plague my empire and me. Don’t get me wrong, some of the gossip circulating is accurate. I’m well-known for my infamous connections with certain members of the public, but I run my empire differently than my counterparts. I don’t launder money, hire prostitutes, or run drugs and guns for the cartel. None of those business ventures have or will ever run through my empire, but I also don’t lie down and take life’s punches like a coward.
Does that make me a mobster? No, it doesn’t. It makes me a smart businessman. I fought to get my empire off the ground, and I fight every day to maintain its success. I just have more people supporting my battle than I did when it started. I also have a shit ton more money.
“I need you to release Isabelle into my custody.”
Ryan glares at me as if I’m crazy. “You know I can’t do that. That’s not how it works.”
“I don’t care how it works. She can’t stay here. She’s having nightmares. She wakes up crying in her sleep. She can’t be left alone. You need to release her.” My tone indicates this is not a request. I’m demanding he does this.
Ryan’s brows draw together as remorse settles on his face, but he remains quiet. He’s not convinced. I’m sure I can get him over the fence.
“You know that suicide Hunter updated you on from Parkerville?”
He nods, his face screwing up. “Just the photos from the case gave me the heebie-jeebies.”
He stops shuddering when I say, “Isabelle discovered the body. She was the one who found him hanging.”
His pupils widen as he mumbles a curse word under his breath, but my disclosure doesn’t drag him fully over the fence. “With the evidence they have on her, I can’t release her. I wish I could, but I can’t.” His words are smothered with remorse, but it does little to ease my agitation, even more so when he adds on, “But I can stay with her.” Now my jaw is the tightest it’s ever been. “It’s the only option you have, Isaac. Isabelle is remanded in custody overnight, so you either have me watch her or let her face incarceration alone. Which would you prefer?”
“I’d prefer to take her home!”
Ryan doesn’t flinch at my outburst. Stupid bastard. “That’s not going to happen. I understand you’re frustrated, and I get that you’re pissed, but nothing will alter the facts. Isabelle is here until tomorrow morning, at the very least.”
“Only tomorrow morning?” Nothing can douse the hope in my tone.
“Yes.” Ryan slaps my shoulder, a gesture usual for two entities on opposite sides of the law. It reminds me of how we met, except he’s no longer a scrawny kid pining over a girl he couldn’t have. “Isabelle may not be a police officer, but she is a member of law enforcement, so a handful of officers from this precinct called in some courtesies, meaning Izzy will stand in front of a judge first thing tomorrow morning.” His confident smirk falters as his voice lowers a few decibels. “But from what I’m hearing, you’ll need to bring a substantial checkbook becauseifshe gets bail, the amount will be sizable.”
I nod without hesitation. They can have it all. I’ll give them every fucking cent I have if it guarantees Isabelle’s safety—both mentally and physically.
