The blood on the phone was beginning to dry, and as she cautiously cleaned the screen, she remembered the video the woman on the street had made. She activated her phone and found the text waiting for her, but she couldn’t bring herself to open it. Instead, she forwarded it to Dylan. He would know what to do with it. She didn’t have the stomach to relive those horrific moments.
Next, she carefully took off her jacket and examined the tear. “I can get this fixed,” she reminded herself.
She draped it over the sink and turned her attention to her arms. The right arm was clean, but the left was a bloody mess from the scrape. It took ten wet towels to wash the blood away. She finally got a good look at her upper arm. Then she groaned, “Oh, damn.” She wet another paper towel and patted the skin around the wound. It still burned like the devil. At least it had stopped bleeding. She was going to have to let a doctor look at it, she supposed. And she’d need an antibiotic so it wouldn’t get infected. Yet a little more misery to put up with—all because she wanted to go for a walk.
Once she’d finished the ordeal of cleaning up, she forced herself to put on her jacket even though she knew the inside of the left sleeve was bloody. She threaded her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make some sort of order out of it, then finally gave up.
Standing outside when she opened the door, Michael quickly stepped back and tried not to stare at her. He had always been attracted to her. Hell, any man would be. He remembered telling his sister at Dylan and Kate’s wedding that Isabel was the whole package. She had a great body, a pretty face, and she was damned sexy, but he also remembered she was young, just starting college, and he had no business messing with her, which was why he went to such great lengths to ignore her.
He couldn’t ignore her now. Man, had she changed. She’d filled out in all the right places and, even covered in blood, was stunning.
Michael knew he couldn’t let his lecherous thoughts get away from him. He was here to help her, not seduce her.
“Feel better?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“Yes,” Isabel answered. It was a lie. Right this minute she wanted to take an hour-long hot shower, then crawl into bed, pull the covers up over her head, and let out a good long scream. Since she couldn’t do that, she decided to try to have a more positive attitude now that the danger was over.
Telling herself to toughen up, she asked, “Why did Dylan send you? He and Kate were supposed to pick me up . . . at the hotel.”
“They are two hours away in Charlemont, Massachusetts. Their meeting was just finishing up. I convinced Dylan to go on back to Nathan’s Bay and that I had this covered.”
“?‘This’ being me?”
He smiled. “Yes.”
He looked at Field and said, “Let’s get this done.”
“The detectives are on their way. They should be here anytime now.”
Isabel nudged Michael and whispered, “Shouldn’t I have a lawyer with me?”
“I’m a lawyer,” he answered.
“When did that happen?”
“When I finished law school and passed the bar.”
No one ever told her anything. She supposed it was her own fault. She made it a point not to ever ask about Michael. She thought about him, though, not all that often, she qualified, just every now and again.
“I thought you were a Navy SEAL.”
“I am a Navy SEAL, but my active duty is over.”
Field led them into a room that resembled what she surmised a cell at Alcatraz must have looked like. The walls were gray, the ceiling was gray, and the floors were gray. There was a square glass window looking out at the hallway, but blinds covered it. A ceiling light shone on the gray metal table and chairs. She imagined this was the kind of room that encouraged a depressed person to kill himself. Having to stay here long would be suffocating.
As soon as Field left and the door closed behind him, she said, “Let me get this straight. You went to college, graduated at, what? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”
“Almost twenty,” he corrected.
He pulled out a chair for her to sit, but she ignored it. Hand on hip, she said, “I’m almost twenty-three, and I just graduated. No one graduates from college at twenty.”
“I did, and so did Dylan.”
“How is that possible?”
“We took a lot of courses when we were seniors in high school and took summer classes in college.”
“I didn’t do that.”
“You had a lot to deal with when you were a senior in high school.”
“Oh.” Then, “You went to law school and graduated at twenty-three?”
“Yes.”
“Then you took the bar and decided to become a Navy SEAL. Who does that?”
“Apparently I do.”
“How old are you now? Forty?”
He laughed. “Twenty-eight,” he answered.
“Are you going to stay in the Navy?”
“No,” he answered. “Isabel, why are you asking all these questions?”
She shrugged. She didn’t have the faintest idea why she was grilling him or why all of his answers made her mad.
There was a knock on the door, and a man walked in who introduced himself as the captain. He was a rather heavyset man with silver-tipped hair and a leathery face from years spent outdoors.
“That was some mighty fine shooting today, young lady. The man you protected is in surgery now.”
“Will he make it?” she asked.
“We’re hoping he will.”
“Do you know who he is?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he answered. Before she could ask any other questions, he turned to Michael and shook his hand. “I heard you were here. How’s your brother?”
Michael smiled. “Which one?”
“Dylan, of course.” He turned to Isabel and explained. “He used to work for me.” He chuckled as he added, “Actually, I think he thought I worked for him, and some days I did. We were sorry to lose him.”
Isabel responded, “Lose him? Dylan didn’t die. He moved to South Carolina and married my sister.”
“I know,” the captain said. “I’m still hoping he’ll come back here to work.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Michael said.
The captain continued to chat with Michael for a few more minutes, asking about his family, and then, as he was opening the door, he said, “I know your brothers, Alec and Nick, are both FBI agents.
What about you, Michael? What are your plans? Are you going to join them?”
Michael grinned. “The Buchanans are an FBI family. I’m thinking about it.”
“Oh, come on,” Isabel whispered. She all but fell into the chair. Now he was thinking about joining the FBI? He graduates from college at twenty, then becomes a lawyer, then a Navy SEAL, and now is thinking of being an FBI agent. What’s next? Astronaut?
And what was she doing with her life? Oh sure, she had a college degree. But did she have a plan, a goal? No. She had a few ideas, but no real direction. She was suddenly feeling quite stupid.
Tears began to fill her eyes.
What was happening to her? She could be emotional at times, but this was over the top. Why did everything suddenly seem like an insurmountable problem? Why were Michael’s prospects for the
future so upsetting to her? When she glanced up at him, he gave her such a sympathetic look she wanted to weep. And that made her even more angry.