Page 241 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Alex’s top lip twitches as he glares at Regan. “I thought you didn’t know Isaac Holt.”
Regan scoffs. “I said I didn’t know himsexually.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “You, like always, chose only to hear the wordsyouwant to hear.”
Any reply Alex is formulating is cut off by my furious glare. “You can finish your lovers’ quarrel later. We have more pressing issues to address.” I shift my gaze to Alex. “Isabelle was kidnapped this afternoon.” He stiffens, and his eyes widen, but he remains quiet. “We have an image of the assailant, but we’ve been unable to identify him using the police facial recognition software.” He doesn’t appear the slightest bit fazed by my admission that we're utilizing police resources illegally. “Brandon suggested I contact you. He said you have access to better facial recognition scanning software.”
Alex curses under his breath as he runs his hand over his head. “For Isabelle, I’ll call it a truce, but once she's safe, all bets are off.”
Confusion crosses his features when I thrust my hand out in offering. “Deal.”
After we seal our agreement with a handshake, Alex gestures his head to his desk. “There's a secure port behind the filing cabinet.”
Hunter nods and places his laptop on the desk a mere second before his brows scrunch. “If I connect to the FBI’s server, it could leave your security vulnerable to infiltration. If they get in, I may never get them back out.”
I shrug. “Let them have it. I have nothing to hide.” I ensured anything incriminating on my servers were wiped clean the morning after my arrest.
Regan touches my forearm. “What about Hugo?”
Shit!I’ve been guarding Hugo’s secret for years, but if the FBI gains access to his personal records, I will no longer be able to guarantee his safety. He’d be once again defenseless to the wolves gunning for his blood.
Regan crosses her arms in front of her chest before turning her gaze to Alex. “Promise me your department will not access anything on Isaac’s servers today, and I’ll forgive you for exploiting me.”
Alex balks. “I didn’t exploit you, Regan.”
Tears glisten in Regan’s eyes, but she maintains a confident composure. As Alex’s narrowed gaze shifts between Regan and me, he runs his hand over his head, something he always seems to do when nervous. After several painful seconds, he drifts his eyes to Hunter. “Send the photo to the email address on the card.” He hands him an officially embossed FBI business card. “The FBI servers automatically upload all content on any devices plugged into their mainframe, so I’ll use my computer to access the image.”
Hunter snags the card out of his hand and fires up his laptop.
“Thank you,” Regan whispers faintly.
In the corner of my eye, I see Alex step closer to her. His face is hard-lined, but his eyes are shimmering with silent apologies. Regan shakes her head and paces to the other side of the room, her thighs shaking with every step. When she uses me as a protective shield between them, the twitch in Alex’s top lip amplifies before he storms around his desk to sit in a large leather chair.
“Done,” Hunter informs us, straying his eyes from his laptop to Alex.
My heart beats in an unnatural rhythm when I take in the time on the antique clock on the wall. Isabelle was taken nearly an hour ago. “We need to hurry before it’s too late.”
“Move.” Hunter nudges Alex in the shoulder. “Your two-finger typing is too fucking slow. We’ll be here all night at this rate.”
Alex snarls but moves out of the chair as requested. Hunter’s fingers wildly fly over the keyboard. His face is scrunched up, and his lips are pursed, but he's in his element. There's no better hacker or computer programmer in the world than the man seated in front of me.
Hunter’s eyes shoot to me. “You need to donate some money to the local police department so they can get this software installed.”
I smirk and nod. In my current state, I'd agree to anything.
Hunter’s eyes return to mine when my untraceable cell rings in my pocket. I flip open the screen and press my phone to my ear.
“Col is moving.” Tallis’s usually thick timbre is barely audible. “He requested for his driver to take him to a warehouse on the corner of Henter and Joyce at—”
“Harbortown.”
“Yes. I have to go.” He disconnects our call as a thick Italian accent sounds down the line.
I gesture with my head for Hunter to join me at the side of the room. He scoots past Alex and stands in front of me, scrubbing his thick beard.
“I know where he’s taken Isabelle.”
His brows scrunch. “Where?”
“The warehouse at Harbortown.” I don’t need to say any more. From the way his pupils widen, I know he understands.
