Oath of Honor

by Lynette Eason

  He might understand, but it would take some time to get past it.

  He fell silent and ran the name around in his head.

  Tobias Freeman.

  A name Ryan would never be able to forget now.

  And it belonged to a man he’d spend his days tracking down no matter how long it took.

  He ran a hand down his face and sighed. Then looked at his phone. Izzy had texted.

  I’m on the way to the office. Are you still there?

  Yes.

  Be there in a few.

  Ten minutes later, he looked up to find Izzy standing in front of his desk, staring at him with questioning eyes. Charice had disappeared during his mental absence from her, and apparently Izzy had said his name a couple of times. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Fine.”

  She dropped into the chair next to his desk. “But not?”

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  “How are you?”

  She crossed her arms. “Okay. But not.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “A couple of things.”

  “Okay … number one?”

  “Number one is that I was attacked at the church today and he stole my phone.”

  Ryan frowned as fear for her darted through him. “Are you okay?”

  “Physically, yes.” She flexed her hand and he noticed the bruises.

  “He hurt you.”

  “What? This?” She held up her hand. “Oh, no. I got those when I punched him.”

  “You punched him.”

  “I did.”

  “Good for you. I hope it hurt him.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think so. The guy was monster huge, Ry, like six feet five or six inches tall. Linebacker size. It probably felt like a poke to him.”

  Awe and respect filled him. “But you managed to land a punch?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah. Two, actually.”

  “You deserve a cape. Izzy, that’s amazing.” He frowned again. “But you’re sure you’re not hurt.”

  “Ryan, please. I’m not hurt. Confused as to why he would go after my phone and not my purse, but whatever. Forget about that for a minute. This brings me to number two.”

  “I don’t want to forget that. I mean, first someone is snooping around your house, then someone tries to shoot you when you go to meet your informant. And now this. Izzy, you could be in real danger.”

  She frowned. “Maybe. We’ll have to think about that.”

  “I think you need protection.”

  “I think the person shooting at me just didn’t want me to meet with Louis. You think he was after me for another reason?”

  “I think it’s a possibility.”

  “Like what?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, well, think about that later. I’m still on this second item.”

  “Which is?”

  “I need to do something and I can’t bring myself to do it. So I think I just need you to say, ‘Do it.’”

  Ryan leaned back and gave her his full attention. He liked that she was here, that she’d come to him with a problem. He wanted to help her solve all of her problems. Or hold her when he couldn’t. He didn’t like the fact that someone attacked her and stole her phone but didn’t bother to go for her purse. He’d have to think about that one. He cleared his throat. “What do you need to do?”

  “Well … I can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t betray a confidence.”

  Ryan leaned forward. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

  “I don’t want your help.”

  He lifted a brow. “Okay. So you sought me out, told me you had a problem, but you don’t want my help, so you’re not going to tell me what said problem is.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ll never understand women.”

  13

  She let out a half chuckle, half sigh at his quiet words. “I know I’m being difficult and vague and I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Derek.” Her eyes met his. “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

  Ryan frowned. “No.”

  “I thought for sure I’d hear from him yesterday, but not a word. I don’t like it and I don’t like being worried about him.”

  “Did you ask your mother if she’s heard from him?”

  “Yes. She hasn’t.” Izzy twisted her ponytail around the fingers of her right hand, then let the strands drop.

  “He’s probably undercover,” Ryan said.

  “That’s what everyone keeps assuming.”

  “But you don’t think so?”

  Frustration curled her fingers into tight fists. “I don’t know what to think.” She stood. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with this.”

  “Sit down, Izzy, let me help.”

  The desire to lean into him, depend on him to fix things, crashed over her. But she couldn’t. At least not yet. “I want to, but I need to talk to someone first. Let me ask him if he’s okay with you helping.”

  “Talk to who?” He stared her down, trying to get her to tell him. She refused to look away. “Derek?” he pressed.

  She made a sound that could have been confirmation—or not. Izzy pulled out Kevin’s phone and set it on his desk. “I was going to take it by David just in case he could do something with it, but I keep thinking we’ll come up with the password eventually.”

  Ryan nodded. “All right, I’ll let you change the subject. For now.”

  “Thanks.”

  Her eyes never left his and he finally sighed. “I told my captain about the phone and he said to keep trying for the next day or so and see if we could crack it. If not, we’ll have to take more extreme measures.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like letting David give it a try.”

  She gave a slow nod. “Okay, let’s see if we can get this done.”

  He pulled the pictures he’d found in Kevin’s bedroom from his pocket. “Look at these while I work on this. I need to figure out Sherry Livingston’s birthday.”

  She took them and settled back to flip through them. The first one hit her like a punch to the gut. Kevin’s smiling face as the worker connected the bungee cord to his safety harness. He’d insisted she snap the picture. Then he’d done the same for her. Her expression hadn’t been quite so gleeful. “Oh Kevin.” Tears sprang to her eyes. How was she supposed to move on?

  She sniffed and looked up. Ryan’s gaze was glued to the computer screen. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting driver’s license information for all the Sherry Livingstons in a fifty-mile radius.”

  “How many are there?”

  He clicked a few more keys. “Sixteen.” He fell silent and she figured he was scanning each one. With a disgusted sigh, he sat back. “I don’t remember her at all. None of them look remotely familiar.”

  “I don’t know many who look like their driver’s license picture. She could be in there and you just don’t recognize her.” She swiped a tear that had managed to escape and Ryan chose that moment to look up.

  “Aw, Izzy, I’m sorry. I should have thought how hard it would be seeing those pictures. Put them away for another time and help me.”

  Swiping a tissue from the box on his desk, she blew her nose. “It’s okay. It’s hard, but it’s okay. And help you with what?”

  He picked up Kevin’s phone, then turned the computer monitor so she could see it. “Start calling out all the birthdays.”

  It only took a few seconds before they were locked out of the phone. Ryan sighed. “I’ll try the rest later, I guess, but I don’t see him using her birthday.”

  “No. It would be someone closer to him, not someone he dated a couple of years ago.” He raised a brow and she shook her head. “I already tried my birthdate and yours … and Chris’s.”

  With a sigh, he slid Kevin’s phone into his pocket. “Now, what’s this about Derek? L
et me help.”

  “No, that’s okay. I need to think on it some more. I’ll see you later.” She stood and headed for the exit.

  “Wait a minute.”

  But she didn’t stop. She didn’t trust herself not to confide in him, ask him for his help.

  Ryan went after her.

  Once outside, she paused on the brick steps.

  “Hold on. Why are you in such a rush?” he said and caught her arm. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure.” She pulled on her arm and he released her immediately. The fact that she hadn’t startled or had an instant flashback to her time as Mick’s hostage stunned her for a moment. She shook her head. “But I’m not going to find my answers here.”

  “Izzy! Come on.”

  He wasn’t going to give it up and she wasn’t going to talk about Derek. She sighed. “Ryan, I have to think.”

  “Will you at least talk to me about it? Talk it out. You know, brainstorm?”

  “I said I needed to think. I do that best alone.”

  “Brainstorming with brilliance is thinking.”

  She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You’re cute, but brilliant might be pushing it.”

  He tilted his head. “You think I’m cute?”

  “Ryan.”

  “I mean, I’ve never had any complaints.” He paused. “Except from Lydia McCarthy from tenth grade.”

  Izzy stopped, totally pulled in by his sudden charm. She’d gone from annoyed and worried to laughing in point two seconds. “I remember her. Rich, snooty girl. What was Lydia McCarthy’s problem with you?”

  “She said my nose was too big, but I was willing to overlook that.”

  “So you asked her out anyway?”

  He shrugged. “She had horses.”

  “What? Ryan Marshall, you only wanted to go out with her so she would invite you over to ride a horse?”

  He flushed. “Yeah.”

  “You’re sad. Cute, but sad.”

  Sobering, he studied her. “So are you going to tell this cute, but sad guy what you’re thinking?”

  “No.”

  At the ferocious frown on his face, she gave in to impulse and stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. “We’ll talk later, I promise. Give your mom and dad hugs from me.”

  She ignored his stunned look—just glad that he no longer looked like he wanted to strangle her—then turned her back on him and headed in the direction of her car.

  Izzy heard his low growl and knew he was still watching her, wanting her to turn around and come back, but she couldn’t. “Izzy! What are you going to do?”

  She turned, walking backward. “I’m going to think about getting a horse.” She spun back around and grinned for a moment. She’d managed to effectively shut him up with that statement. Her mirth faded as her mind spun back to the problem at hand. Namely Derek. What was she going to do? What should she do? Talk to her supervisor herself? Talk to his?

  No. Not just yet.

  She was off-duty for the next several days and planned to take advantage of it. She’d continue to try to get ahold of Derek. If she failed, she’d have to come to a decision about whether or not to go to a supervisor.

  The parking lot was fairly full and she’d parked her Chevy Tahoe at the far end, feeling fortunate she’d found a spot in the lot off Lincoln instead of having to use the parking garage across the street.

  As she drew closer to her vehicle, movement in the front seat made her frown. Then she realized the driver’s door was open. “Hey!” She placed her hand on her weapon.

  The person sitting in the front of her vehicle jumped out and took off.

  “Police! Stop!”

  14

  Ryan jerked at the shout. He turned to see Izzy sprinting across the parking lot, chasing a fleeing figure. Ryan’s brain clicked even as he opened the car door and threw himself into the driver’s seat. He backed out of the parking spot and shoved the gear into drive.

  Izzy was closing in on the guy at the end of the parking lot row. If they kept going, they’d cross Washington. Ryan drove until he was parallel to the man. At the end of the lane, he swerved in front of him. The guy slammed into the side of the vehicle, rolled off the front, and kept going.

  “Whoa!” The dude was huge. Linebacker size.

  Izzy sped past Ryan as the fleeing man slipped into the parking garage at the corner of Washington and Lincoln.

  Ryan pulled to a stop and bolted from the vehicle. He’d lost sight of the two.

  “Ryan! Up the ramp!” Ryan followed the sound of Izzy’s voice and the fleeing footsteps. “You! I said ‘Stop!’”

  And then it fell quiet.

  At the top of the ramp, he paused. Listened.

  And heard nothing.

  No yelling, no footsteps. Nothing at all. The guy was hiding. Probably behind or under a car.

  And Izzy was looking for him. He glanced around as he hurried to join the search. This garage was right across the street from the police department. Where were the cops? The garage would teem with them at shift change. But it wasn’t time and the place was about as active as a graveyard at midnight. Now that he had a chance, he put in a call for backup, keeping his voice low while his gaze swept the area.

  With his weapon held ready, Ryan peered around the edge of the cement pillar to get a look at the ramp leading up to the next floor. He couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean the guy wasn’t hiding behind the line of cars parked on either side of the ramp.

  Slowly, he eased his way around the pillar, then head swiveling, began to climb. On the last floor before the next ramp would lead him to the roof, a thud came from above. A harsh cry echoed. His pulse jerked. “Izzy!”

  “Ryan!”

  Ryan raced the rest of the way up and turned the corner to spy Izzy on the far side of the lot, her back on the hard cement floor, with the goon she’d been chasing on top of her.

  He took off running. “Police! Back off!”

  Izzy jerked her head to the side when the man swung. His meaty fist grazed her ear. Pain slashed through her. She’d finally caught up with him and tackled him, wrapping both arms around his legs to bring him down. Probably not her smartest moment, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  Only he was big as the Hulk, strong as an ox, and had quickly flipped her onto her back. She’d slammed hard and lost her breath as her weapon hit the ground and slid out of her reach.

  The good thing was that it was out of his reach too, and he didn’t appear to have another one close by.

  It didn’t take her long to figure out this was the same man who’d attacked her at the church and stolen her phone. His size alone was a dead giveaway. He now straddled her lower body, left hand clamped around her throat. Panic hit her hard. Flashes of her previous attack threatened to overwhelm her.

  No. Don’t let it take control. Think. Think.

  Mick’s face superimposed itself over the man’s above her. Her fingers pried uselessly at his while he grinned down at her, his light blue eyes like chips of ice. “Where is it?”

  “What?” Izzy managed to croak. Terror grabbed her, and she knew if he landed a blow, he’d crack her skull. Black spots danced before her eyes and she was seconds from passing out.

  Izzy’s lungs strained only to finally grab air. His grip had loosened so she could talk. She drew in the air and the dots faded. Keeping her eyes on his, she released her grip on the wrist of the hand around her throat and allowed both of her arms to fall to the cement floor. He blinked as though she’d confused him.

  With a jerk, she bucked her hips and brought both fists up to slam them against his ears. He howled his pain and fury, and then he was off of her.

  “Put your hands up!” Ryan said.

  Izzy gasped in two more gulps of air, coughed, and rolled to her feet.

  Her attacker lay on his side, clutching his ribs. Ryan must have kicked him in order to get him off of her.

  “Put your hands up, I said!
”

  Ryan continued to yell orders and the guy continued to ignore him. Ryan started toward him, but in one smooth move, the hulking man made a rolling lunge, his arm outstretched toward Izzy. She spun to get out of his reach, but still weak from the attack, stumbled. He snagged her foot and yanked her on top of him. Off-balance, Izzy flinched when he got a grasp on her arm and, using her as a shield, hauled himself—and her—to his feet, his breath harsh against her ear. Her feet dangled inches from the concrete floor.

  Ryan held his weapon steady. “Let her go! Now!”

  Of course he didn’t. Instead, he walked backward. “Put your gun down, cop.”

  “Can’t do that. Let her go.”

  The guy laughed. “Right.”

  Ryan followed. “I mean it.”

  For each step Ryan took toward them, Hulk took one step back. Izzy struggled against him. Never had she felt so powerless. Except maybe when she’d held a dying Kevin in her arms. “Just shoot him,” she gasped.

  But Ryan wouldn’t risk hitting her.

  “Put your weapon down, cop, or I snap her neck.”

  Ryan didn’t even blink. “Put her down and step. Away. From. Her.”

  “You want me to put her down? All right. I can do that.”

  Izzy felt the sun come through the side of the building. Cold dread centered itself in her belly. “Ryan!”

  In another effortless move, Hulk lifted her over the cement wall and dangled her above the asphalt below. A cry slipped from her and she grasped a handful of his shirtsleeve in both fists. If she was going over, she was taking him with her. “Shoot him!”

  If Ryan shot him at this point, the way Hulk was leaning over the wall, he’d simply fall over and they’d both go down.

  And the guy knew it. “What are you going to do, cop? Chase me? Or save her?”

  He reached over and jerked one of her hands from his wrist. She tried to grab it back. When she realized there was no way she was going to be able to hold on to him with both hands, she grabbed the wall—which was probably his plan. “Ryan!” Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down!

  Hulk yanked his arm from her flimsy grasp and she desperately grabbed at the wall with her other hand while her feet swung above the concrete below.