As tears started to roll down her cheeks, he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her out of her seat and into his arms. The problem was that he wasn’t just feeling the need to protect her. At that moment, he wondered if he’d fallen in love with her too.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
On Saturday morning, Izzy prepared to meet Ann Marie Martinez, one of the other women the PI had identified from the sergeant’s social media. Ann Marie had initially rebuffed her, but after Izzy pushed, she said that they could meet briefly at a downtown Arlington coffee shop.
Izzy walked into the shop and immediately saw her sitting by herself in the corner, working on her laptop with a deep frown on her face.
“Ann Marie?”
She looked up from her computer. “You must be Izzy.”
It wasn’t lost on Izzy that while she couldn’t tell Ann Marie’s exact height, she was definitely on the petite side, with dark hair. The pattern was holding. “That’s me. Can I sit?”
“Yes, but as I said, I don’t have long. I’m on deadline.”
“You’re a writer?”
“Yes, freelance,” she said flatly.
So far so good. Given the time limitations and the frosty reception, Izzy went for it. “I’ll be as fast as I can, and I so appreciate the time. I wanted to talk to you about Sergeant Henry Tybee.”
Ann Marie’s expression remained neutral. “What about him?”
“You dated him?”
“Briefly.”
“How did he treat you?’
Ann Marie arched an eyebrow. “Is that really any of your business?”
Maybe Izzy had pushed too hard. She needed to get information, not the stiff arm. This woman didn’t know her at all. She needed to adjust her approach. “I’m sorry if this seems intrusive. I have a good reason for asking. The sergeant was murdered. Did you know that?”
Ann Marie’s eyes widened. “No. What happened?”
“That’s what the police are trying to find out. But in the meantime, I’m trying to determine if he had a pattern of abusive history with women.”
Ann Marie leaned back. “Not with me.”
“He treated you well?”
She nodded. “Yes, but we decided we weren’t compatible, and that was that.”
“Just like that? No hard feelings?”
Ann Marie shrugged. “None. I haven’t really given him a second thought. I moved on with my life, and my focus is on my career.”
Izzy might not have decades of experience under her belt, but she didn’t need it to know Ann Marie wasn’t telling her everything. “So no signs of abusive tendencies?”
“No. He was actually a bit too old and boring for my tastes. Too straight-laced.”
Now Izzy really knew Ann Marie wasn’t being forthcoming, but there was nothing more she could do about it right now. “Well, thank you for your time. I’ll let you get back to work.”
Ann Marie set down her tea. “You think he hurt other women?”
“I do.”
“Well, obviously I’m sorry about that, but I don’t have anything I can add from my personal experience.”
“Understood.” Izzy rose and thanked her again. As she walked away, she wondered what Ann Marie might be hiding.
Layla awoke with a start. She must have been dreaming. There had been gunshots. But now, sitting up in bed, she didn’t hear anything. The safe house seemed completely silent, as it should be in the middle of the night. Letting out a sigh of relief, she lay back down for a second.
A loud crash erupted nearby. She jumped out of bed and started to go for her gun on the nightstand, but she was tackled to the ground by a huge mass of a man. The breath was knocked out of her, but she willed herself to focus. She was under attack and had no idea where Hunter or the CIA security detail was. Then an awful thought struck her—what if they were all dead? What if those gunshots had killed them?
Those thoughts only made her angry, and she fought harder against the man pinning her to the floor. She was able to knee him in the groin, and he rolled off of her, groaning and muttering in a different language. Maybe Russian or something similar? She tried to get to her feet, but he caught her ankle in his large, meaty hand and pulled her back down to the floor. She hit with a thud and started kicking to try to break free, but he had regained his composure, and he punched her in the stomach.
As she tried to catch her breath, he punched her again, even harder. She rolled away, and he missed his next attempt.
She tried to scramble to her feet, hoping she could get to her side arm on the nightstand, but her attacker had other ideas. He lifted her off the ground and slammed her onto the floor. A scream escaped her lips as the pain radiated through her body.
Yelling again, she tried to gather the energy to keep fighting, but if this kept going much longer, she had no doubt she’d be dead soon.
She pushed to her feet and dodged another punch, but then he wrapped his hands around her neck and started squeezing. Stars flashed before her eyes as the breath started to leave her body, and she struggled not to lose consciousness.
As she started to say what she thought could be a final prayer, she found a burst of energy. She dropped low to the ground, startling her attacker, and his grip broke. That gave her the opening to kick him again in the groin, which brought him to his knees. She leapt for her nightstand, grabbed her gun, and aimed it at him.
“Don’t move. Hands up!”
“Layla.” Hunter rushed into the room, breathing heavily. His eyes widened. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, adrenaline surging through her body. “We need to secure him.”
“I’ve got some zip ties in my duffel downstairs. Are you good here?”
“Yeah. What about Ace and Dax?”
He frowned and shook his head.
She knew that meant they were dead—but there was no time to focus on that. She stared into the light blue eyes of
