Texas Takedown

by Heather Woodhaven

  His mouth dropped. “You weren’t?”

  “Nope.” What was she doing? She needed to stop her mouth, but the adrenaline from the evening and the combined exhaustion made her mouth run on and on. “I actually liked you. And then my girlfriends convinced me to try that stunt to make you jealous. But you know what’s the craziest of all? I ended up with Randy anyway. He said he never would’ve known who I was if it wasn’t for you. Isn’t that funny?”

  Matt stared at her, his expression unreadable. “You what?”

  “Randy and I ended up at the same college. He had a football scholarship.”

  Matt pursed his lips. “Huh.” He coughed and rearranged the food on his plate.

  “And he assured me the stuff you said about me didn’t bother him. So, see? We can move on.”

  “Well, uh, that’s, uh...a relief. Are you still—”

  “No. Don’t worry. My crush on you is gone.” She put a hand on her chest. “No threat here.”

  He cleared his throat. “I was going to ask if you were still with Randy.”

  “Oh.” Her face heated. “No. He got offered a job as a pharmaceutical rep. I just couldn’t do that kind of life.”

  Matt’s eyes softened. “The traveling?”

  His question caught her off guard. She managed to nod. “A long-distance relationship and moving are off the table. I want to stay somewhere for the long haul.”

  Isabelle stared at her empty plate. She’d talked and eaten so fast, it didn’t register what the food had tasted like. The reminder that Matt knew enough to understand her desire without clarification rankled her for some reason. So much so, she wasn’t fast enough to pay for the check before he’d already taken care of it.

  He escorted her to the door. A breeze wove through the River Walk. She shivered. The temperature must’ve dropped twenty-some degrees since the afternoon. In a heartbeat, Matt took off his suit jacket and handed it to her.

  “For the walk back.”

  She accepted. The jacket did more than provide warmth. It somehow made her feel safer, as if wearing armor. She looked like someone’s girlfriend. She hadn’t been one of those for over a year now.

  Her ankle hurt less as she joined the throng of tourists. The ice and rest had done the job. Matt had to step behind her, single file, as there wasn’t enough room to walk alongside each other and still allow the traffic to flow from the opposite direction. The jumble of tourists merging onto the sidewalk separated them by a couple of people.

  A hand snaked around her wrist and yanked her off the walkway and into the darkness. A glint of metal appeared at her waist. “Scream and you die.” The man pulled her up an incline and pushed her into a shadowed area behind a tree.

  * * *

  Matt nearly fell into the water when someone shoved past him. A woman grabbed his shirt and helped him upright. His focus had been elsewhere...specifically, on the fact that Isabelle had ended up with Randy after all. The incident in high school had been an immature ploy to get his attention? How ironic that he had responded with his own ploy by trying to drum up bad things to say about her.

  So she’d come clean, but why couldn’t he? Why hadn’t he interrupted Isabelle and admitted he had liked her? Why hadn’t he told her he never meant those hurtful things? His lips had refused to cooperate. Pride had paralyzed him. Again.

  He scanned the tourists ahead of him. He’d completely lost sight of her. He strained his neck in an effort to spot Isabelle. No sign. He called her name, but the music and talking and laughter from all the restaurants swallowed up his voice.

  Something reflected a light. On Marriage Island—a tiny, unlit inlet that jutted into the San Antonio River—a couple stood in the shadows against the tree. He almost looked away, but the profile looked remarkably like Isabelle’s. He saw the outline of the man wrench a bag from her torso.

  Matt vaulted through the crowd. As he rounded the tree, the man pointed a gun at Isabelle. “Hey!” As the man turned to aim the gun at him, Matt grabbed the assailant’s arm and twisted it until the weapon dropped from his hand. The man punched Matt in the gut with his other arm.

  Pain vibrated down his legs from the impact.

  The man pulled a knife from his pocket and stabbed it into Isabelle’s torso. She cried out and crumpled. Matt pulled his fist back and slammed it into the assailant’s jaw.

  The man stumbled backward until he took off into a run, the messenger bag bouncing off his hip. He ran around the tree, pushed tourists aside and dashed up a flight of stairs to the upper level of stores.

  “Stop him,” Matt shouted, but over the noise, he doubted anyone heard him. The creep didn’t even glance back before he slipped between two buildings and disappeared.

  Isabelle’s hands held her stomach. Matt dropped to his knees. He looked past the tree and yelled for help at a group passing by. He reached for Isabelle. How badly had she been stabbed?

  She coughed. “He’s getting away.”

  He couldn’t call for an ambulance without his phone, which still resided in the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He reached for her and prepared himself for the worst as his eyes focused on the rip in his suit, where she’d been stabbed. He pulled back the jacket slowly, inwardly cringing at what he might find.

  Instead of blood he saw only fabric. His eyes lifted to her face.

  She pressed her hand on her stomach. “It didn’t pierce me. The force of it just hurt. Your jacket... Was there something in the pocket?” Her frown cleared as she pulled out his phone and wallet. Cracks radiated across the screen. In the center of the phone he could see the point of impact. If the blade had hit flesh... He gulped.

  Her right hand reached for his wrist.

  “Isabelle, you could’ve been—”

  “But I wasn’t. You saved my life,” she whispered. Her eyes filled. “He got away with everything. My phone, my wallet, my tablet... It’s all gone.”

  He squeezed her hand. “All replaceable.” Unlike her.

  Two policemen ran up to the tree. One took a knee. “Ma’am, do you need an ambulance?”

  Twenty minutes passed before the officers were finished with their questions. Matt half listened to their reassurances to Isabelle that if she came to the police station for the report, she would likely still be able to fly home without an ID.

  One officer stepped away while he listened to his radio. He approached again. “Ma’am, you said you were pursued earlier today by two men? Was this attack made by one of the same men?”

  “No.” She frowned. “I’m positive.”

  “Were there any witnesses to the earlier event?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Just Matt.”

  The officer gave him a long glance. “And you were the only witness to this altercation, as well?”

  Matt leaned back on his heels. Was the officer implying they were making the incidents up? “We were surrounded by witnesses. Surely someone saw something.” He waved behind him to the sidewalk.

  “If they did, they didn’t stick around to tell their story.” The other officer narrowed his eyes.

  Matt threw his hands up in the air. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

  The officer ignored him and addressed Isabelle. “I assure you it’s very unusual for one of our tourists to be a victim of so much crime in one day, ma’am. Were you carrying anything valuable that would draw attention?”

  Isabelle grabbed her sparkling necklace. The temptation to ask who gave her that welled up in Matt again. “Only the usual conference-attendee stuff,” she said. “Wallet, tablet, phone—you know, basically my whole world.” She smiled weakly.

  Matt recalled the way she’d begged for him to put her laptop in the hotel safe. She had been carrying it in her messenger bag. What if the people who tore up her room were looking for the information that was on
her laptop?

  The memory of the man shoving the knife into Isabelle made him flinch. If he’d been after the laptop and thought he’d grabbed it, then why stab her? His blood ran cold. Did someone want her out of the picture?

  The police officers repeated their safety advice to her and walked away.

  Matt met her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell them about the laptop?”

  She looked uneasy. “It wasn’t pertinent.”

  “Wasn’t it?” He crossed his arms across his chest. “I think it’s time you told me more about these underwater drones.”

  FOUR

  The light emphasized Matt’s dark eyes. How many times had she dragged out conversations with him just for an excuse to keep looking into his eyes? Her cheeks heated at the thought, and she moved her gaze to the cobblestone beneath her feet.

  She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She had better things to think of, more practical things. They’d changed. It was just the memory of a childhood crush. That was all. She’d get over it. She had to.

  “Isabelle?” Matt repeated.

  “Okay. Basically my life was thrown into chaos a couple weeks ago. I had a theory, and when I proved it, Hank used all his connections, and probably all his money, and got me a spot at the conference not only as an attendee but also as a presenter. It was very rushed.”

  “That algorithm you were trying to tell me about?”

  “Yes. It’s not the easiest thing to explain if I don’t want to put you to sleep.” She studied his expression so she’d have a baseline to reference if she started to lose him. “Nothing that’s been applied, but there’s the potential.”

  “Of underwater drones?”

  “Not exactly.” She waved at the river next to them as they walked closer to the stairs that would lead them back to the city streets. “Imagine there was a way to track fish and currents. That it could also be so undetectable that it wouldn’t disturb wildlife. To do that, we’d need the research to enable the drones to mimic the wildlife, right? Swarms of these drones could be for tracking and reconnaissance, not so much for attacking...although I admit, there could be the potential.”

  His brow furrowed.

  She tried again. “Okay. How about this? Imagine something that could even change currents if you needed it to. Wouldn’t the US Navy find that useful?”

  His eyes widened. “Your research could do that?”

  She shrugged. “Technology has missed some vital pieces to make it work. Namely the research.”

  “And you’ve got the missing pieces.”

  “I have at least one piece, but I believe it will lead me to the other pieces.”

  “With the funding you’re trying to get this week.” He offered his arm as they ascended the stairs, and she took it. Matt kept looking over his shoulder. She knew he wanted to stay alert and keep her safe, but the constant checking unnerved her. “I’m still upset at the cops’ insinuation this was random crime,” he said. “The ransacked room combined with the attack is too much.”

  “I know.” She really hoped he would stop talking about it so her heart rate could return to normal. “But from the police’s point of view, it’s been different people. I don’t even know if my research is connected with it.”

  They crossed the street to the hotel entrance. He jolted to a stop at the automatic doors. His eyes widened. “What if someone wants it to look like random crimes?”

  Her gut twisted. She could accept that if the man hadn’t tried to stab her. The thought that someone wanted to kill her... Well, her mind wouldn’t let her dwell on that possibility. “We’re jumping to conclusions that I don’t want to explore, Matt.” Or she’d never be able to sleep.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Listen, I’ll do whatever I can to help keep you safe.”

  She looked down at her empty hands. All her personal information was on her tablet and phone, as if her life was spread open for that knife-wielding stranger to see. Assuming he could get past her passwords.

  Matt had already done more than she could’ve asked, but right now she needed to contact the credit-card companies and, more important, her boss. “Do you guys have a business computer I can use here?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You can use your laptop. I’ll get it out of the safe.”

  “No, I can’t. It doesn’t have a network card. Zero wireless capabilities. For security reasons.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Security?”

  “It’s becoming more common for researchers like me. About a year ago, another research center—a contractor for the defense department—had their data hacked. The sensitive information wasn’t stolen because the equipment they used for that purpose had no online capabilities. Hank took that as a lesson and made sure any of my data was compiled and analyzed only on a laptop without network cards.”

  “I never would’ve thought ocean research was that valuable.” Matt whistled. “Well, speaking of hacking, I wouldn’t use our public computers to check on your credit cards. And while I can make your room complimentary, I can’t waive long-distance charges. My place is nearby. You can use my computer and phone. I insist. Stay here, and I’ll get your laptop from the safe.”

  Being in debt to a guy she used to have a crush on was not on her agenda for the week. She already owed him for the room. More important, she owed him her life. But when she thought of it that way, using his computer didn’t seem like so much extra.

  He approached with the laptop in his hands. “I’ve got it. Follow me.” He turned to walk down a hallway.

  She looked around the marbled lobby at the plush couches and sparkling chandeliers. The immense difference in hotels struck her. Cheerful walls the color of lemon cheesecake complemented the navy runner. The only smells came from the coffee shop in the back of the lobby. The thought of enjoying a latte in the morning served as a balm to her—

  Her stomach sank. Her wallet was in the hands of that goon. This wasn’t the type of place that came with complimentary breakfast. The conference came with very few meals, and it was only Monday night. Aside from the prepaid awards dinner on Tuesday and a boxed dinner on Wednesday, she was on her own for food. She didn’t have a way to pay for anything.

  Her fingers moved to grip her messenger bag but met air. She had nothing. The severity of the situation hit her all at once, as if walls were closing in on her. A shuffle behind her pushed her forward. She wanted nothing more than to be alone. Being among strangers never used to bother her, but a new vulnerability she’d never experienced before made her legs twitch, ready to run.

  Matt turned and made eye contact with someone behind them. “Can I help you?”

  She looked over her shoulder. The man, dressed in a black short-sleeve polo, tan pants and a baseball hat, spun on his heel with a wave. He walked away.

  “That was weird.” Matt watched the back of the man until he was no longer in sight.

  “Really? It seems to have become the norm.” And she didn’t know what to make of it.

  “Maybe he forgot something.”

  She nodded. She wasn’t sure, but he kind of looked like the man who had been across the street from the hotel, watching her with a newspaper in his hands, sans his jacket from before.

  Matt’s eyes locked on hers. His concerned gaze drew her a step closer, and she realized how desperate she was to be comforted. The man could give the best hugs, if memory served her right. She blinked. What was she doing? She took a step back.

  He straightened. “We’re here.” He took out a real key, not a card, and unlocked a door with an embossed plate that read Director of Operations.

  The door swung open to a gorgeous suite, or in this case, apartment. Gray tile floor instead of carpet reflected the light from the chandelier. Past the entryway, an Oriental rug complemented the silver couches with teal cushion
s. She spun around, taking it in. A kitchenette peeked behind a half wall, and an open door to the left revealed a king-size bedroom complete with sheer curtains surrounding it, almost like a canopy. “Are all the rooms like this?” She tried to keep the eager grin off her face. This was luxury.

  “Not to this extent or size, but similar.” He pulled his own laptop out of the cherry desk and entered his username and password. “I’ll give you privacy to make your calls and check your accounts.”

  He walked behind the kitchenette wall, and she almost called him back—which was ridiculous. She could handle being alone. She dropped into the leather desk chair. After she pulled up each credit-card company and froze the cards, she dialed Hank’s number.

  “Isabelle,” he exclaimed before she could say a word. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past hour.”

  “You have?” She leaned onto her elbow and rested her tightening forehead against her palm.

  “Yes. We were hacked today. I wanted you to know before the conference gossip got to you. I’ve already assured the conference organizers that it will in no way affect your presentation.”

  “Hank, listen—”

  “I told them the research is uncompromised, and you’re the only one with access to it. That seemed to appease the board members. They’ve had so much interest in your topic, they’ve bumped you to a bigger venue. You’ll be the keynote for Friday morning.”

  Isabelle blinked a couple of times, trying to process. That was huge. “Someone is after the research.”

  “I know, but I’m telling you, they didn’t get it.”

  “Hank, I mean here. Men have been after me.” She relayed the events of the past few hours. Hank remained quiet, but she could hear his breathing grow ragged. “It’s okay, Hank. They haven’t succeeded.”

  “I’ve dipped into my retirement.” Hank’s voice shook softly. “I can’t send you money. I’m tapped out. I should’ve never sent you there. I don’t know what made me think I could do this.”

  Isabelle’s heart squeezed. She was the reason. He’d hired her to work straight out of college. She’d talked him into upgrading his technology and insisted she could put the small institute on the map. And he’d believed in her. If the institute failed, it would be her fault.