Texas Takedown Page 2

  The woman stood up and gave her account of the men chasing her. Her animated expression complemented her wide hand gestures. Her brown hair hung in loose waves past her shoulders. The sides were pulled up by a clip, and thick bangs hung down over her eyebrows, the same way...

  Matt felt his eyebrows rise. She looked just like Isabelle Barrows, his best friend for seven years in high school. That was, until he’d acted like an idiot. Her dad’s post had moved across the country before they had a chance to reconcile.

  But could it really be her? She wore tan dress pants and a white button-up blouse. Not something the Isabelle he knew would wear, but it’d been...what? Eight years? People changed, grew up, in that kind of time. He certainly had.

  Before prom, all those years ago, Isabelle had confided an interest in Randy, the star quarterback. Instead of being a good friend, jealousy had reared up. Matt had warned Randy to stay away from Isabelle. But Matt hadn’t stopped there, no. He’d proceeded to list all the reasons dating Isabelle would be a bad idea.

  He’d never forget the moment Randy pointed over his shoulder. He turned around and saw Isabelle’s wounded expression. The look of betrayal on her face had morphed into rage, and he never had a chance to explain he’d done it all because he liked her as more than a friend. Matt sighed, reliving the moment. What he’d done had been immature and wrong, but he’d been a kid. He was a different person now.

  He turned off the idling motor. The breeze carried her voice, this time unencumbered. Yes, he definitely recognized her now.

  The officer nodded. “Okay. Sounds like an attempted mugging. Maybe they saw you earlier take something out of your bag that looked valuable.”

  She frowned. “Maybe.”

  “We will keep a lookout for them, ma’am. In the meantime, I recommend you stay with other conference attendees.” The officer looked over her head at Matt. “Can you drop her off at her hotel?”

  Matt shrugged. “Sure. Where are you staying, Izzy?”

  She turned her head around so fast he feared for her neck. Her eyes widened as her gaze connected with his. If he’d seen those eyes at first glance, the color of the deep blue sea, he’d have known immediately. He remembered staring into them while they talked for hours about everything and simultaneously nothing. She could make ironing sound interesting, discussing the cultural impacts the introduction of the iron made on society.

  He smirked at the thought. “Hi, Isabelle.”

  Her rosy lips parted. “Matthew?”

  No one, not even his mother, called him by his full name. Only his tax forms and driver’s license labeled him as such. He had told everyone he much preferred to go by the shorter version, but he’d never told Isabelle. Truthfully, he liked the way she said it. Maybe because it made him feel like they had a special bond.

  He blinked away the nonsensical thought as her expression shifted from surprise to hurt. His shoulders dropped. Great. She was remembering the incident.

  She recovered quickly, though, as she pulled her shoulders back and smiled. “Wow. Matt.” She nodded, as if processing.

  The officer looked between the two of them. “So you know each other? Good. We have your number if we need to get in touch, Miss Barrows. Stay safe.”

  Matt made note of the fact she was called “Miss.” Not married yet, then.

  Isabelle looked at him with fresh eyes. “Wow. Matt.”

  “I’m not a garbageman,” he said, waving at the outfit. “I—”

  Her eyes widened, and she raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh. I’m sorry. Garbage person? No, garbage... Waste-management professional?”

  He laughed. Same Isabelle, always quick to fix things. “No, I meant I’m director of operations at The Grand River Walk. Where are you staying?”

  She told him, and he frowned. “We can’t get there by barge. Let me park this at my hotel, and I’ll take you where you need to go.”

  Confusion clouded her features, but she pressed her lips together and nodded. Maybe she didn’t believe him? He tried not to think about it. “Hold on.” He waved at a bar she could hold on to instead of sitting on the barge again.

  It didn’t take long to park in the small dock underneath the hotel’s little cove. Isabelle stiffened at the dark atmosphere. “You’re safe now,” he said. He couldn’t imagine what she’d gone through. Though he didn’t really have that much time to start what could be a lengthy conversation. He’d do what he promised, though, and maybe even plan on grabbing a coffee with her sometime.

  She followed him silently as he waved the magnetic strip on his badge to open the employee entrance. He escorted her through the glistening hallway to the front desk. “Ask Miranda to get you a hard copy of a map. She’ll show you the safest routes to walk back to your hotel, for future reference.” He placed a hand on her arm. “I’m going to change real quick.”

  She nodded mutely. Maybe she was going into shock? He darted into the employee locker room and quickly removed the overalls. From his locker, he pulled out a suit coat and an azure tie.

  Not wanting to keep her waiting, Matt strode confidently into the marbled lobby. He smiled expectantly, ready to impress Isabelle, but he spotted only a tourist on one of the couches. “Miranda? I sent a woman here for a map.”

  “Oh, yes. I showed her how to get to the Adobe Suites. She left a couple of minutes ago.”

  “She wh—” Matt groaned. Could it be she didn’t want to be near him for another second? Although, in his haste, he supposed he hadn’t made it clear he planned to escort her back to her hotel. What kind of jerk did she think he was? “Could you pass me another map? Show me what route you told her.”

  Miranda handed it over. The Adobe, one of the cheapest hotels in the area, wasn’t located in what was considered the tourist zone. She’d have to walk through a relatively sketchy area to get to it.

  Would she be safe?

  TWO

  Isabelle studied the highlighted paper map in front of her. Perky Miranda at the front desk insisted there was a tourist-friendly way to walk to her hotel. Unfortunately, without going back on that horribly secluded path, it would add another half mile to her throbbing ankle. Besides, as far as she knew, they hadn’t caught the men who’d chased her, so she decided to wait next to the doorman for a cab.

  Why did her hero have to be Matt McGuire, of all people? Her eyes stung with unshed tears as the reality of her situation hit her. All alone in a giant city, after a near miss with armed men, she was left with a rescuer who had betrayed her friendship. Her hand reached for her collarbone as if her heartbeat was exposed to the rest of the world.

  Matt no longer resembled the young boy she’d known throughout junior high and high school. His jaw looked chiseled, barely covered with a trimmed beard. The caramel mop with strands of honey-colored hair used to be bushy and unkempt, but now it was cropped, serving to emphasize his dark eyes. The man had aged well.

  She’d grown up moving all over the country, aside from those seven precious years in Northern California. Matt had been her best friend right up until the day she’d stupidly listened to her girlfriends’ advice: “Tell him you like someone else, and then he’ll finally notice you as more than a friend.”

  Oh, he noticed all right, and Isabelle finally found out what Matt really thought of her. She had been on her way to meet Matt and confess her lie when she’d overheard him.

  “Randy, look, man. You don’t want to go out with her. Isabelle’s... She’s intense.”

  “I’m pretty intense,” Randy responded.

  “No, you don’t get it. She has this way of questioning everything. And she’s stubborn. You’ll never meet anyone more stubborn. And so intelligent...logical to a fault, really, yet still somehow naive.”

  Her neck had felt on fire, and the heat had spread across her entire body, paralyzing her in the hall.
Randy caught her gaze and pointed over Matt’s shoulder.

  Yeah, that had been a pretty bad day. Isabelle shook away the memories.

  She glanced down at the colorful map. She’d been eager to check out the art galleries and historic buildings before the incident. Now sightseeing didn’t hold the same appeal. She glanced up. Across the street, a man stood under the overhang of a building. He held a newspaper but stared directly at her.

  The realization gave her an unnatural chill in the heat.

  It was probably a coincidence. He wasn’t one of the men who’d chased her earlier, but she didn’t want to take time to study his face. She pretended to look at the map and dared another peek underneath her eyelashes. The man in the jacket continued to stare at her. Jacket? Who would wear a jacket in the heat of August? He reached into an inner pocket.

  Was it a weapon? Isabelle no longer cared if she looked foolish. Her ankle smarted as she spun around to run back into the hotel and barreled right into another man. She screamed and stepped back.

  “Isabelle!” Matt’s hands grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “It’s me. Are you okay?”

  She flinched and twisted to look behind her. The man was gone. She pointed a shaky finger. “He—he—”

  Matt let her go and stepped around her. “I don’t see anyone.” He offered her a kind smile. “You’ve had quite a scare today. It’s understandable you’d be on edge. I’m so glad you haven’t left yet. I never intended to leave you alone. Sorry for the miscommunication.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve always been good at that.” She stared at the empty doorway across the street. Matt didn’t believe her about the man? Great. Where could he have gone, anyway? Behind one of the cars?

  Matt stiffened. “Speaking of misunderstandings, I’d like to explain sometime about what you overheard me telling Randy all those years ago.”

  “No need. Water under the bridge.”

  He frowned. “What are you going to do tomorrow? Which conference are you attending?”

  “The Oceanology Conference.”

  He pointed at the map in her hands. “Your conference is almost a mile from your hotel.”

  “I’m aware.” She sighed. “Maybe I’ll call a cab.” It would have to come out of her own pocket, though, and the way the conference was split up, she would need four trips a day for the entire week. She couldn’t afford it. The plan had been to walk everywhere...until those men had chased her.

  Matt squinted as if deep in thought, little lines forming around his eyes. “If I weren’t so busy—”

  He felt guilty? “Matt, you don’t owe me anything. It’s not as if it’s your town. You don’t have to feel responsible.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I do. The River Walk has been my home the past couple of years. I’d hate for you to leave with a bad impression.” He looked down at her feet. “How’s your ankle?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  A cab pulled to the curb. The doorman walked forward and opened the door for her. Isabelle got in and turned to give Matt a little wave, but he was already gone. Figured.

  The other side of the car opened, and Matt slid onto the seat next to her.

  “You don’t have to—”

  He smiled, the same smile that’d made her knees go weak when she was younger. “I promised those officers I’d escort you back to your hotel, and that’s what I intend to do.” His fingertips brushed her forearm as he leaned forward to point the driver in the direction of the hotel. The touch felt familiar, and a flash of homesickness hit her in the gut. She missed the boy Matt used to be. She blinked back the sudden emotion. It was unlike her to be overcome with feelings, but it’d been a most trying day.

  The cabbie kept Matt occupied for a moment, discussing shortcuts and ways to avoid construction. When they’d run out of topics, Matt leaned back in his seat. “It’s been a long time. Please let me take you out to coffee while you’re here so we can talk.”

  “I told you, the past is water under—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” His eyes crinkled with warmth. “If that’s true, then you’d have no problem catching up like the old friends we used to be.”

  Her guard broke down. He had a point. If she really weren’t nursing a grudge like she claimed, he’d have been right. But she wasn’t about to admit that his actions all those years ago still hurt. She forced a smile. “Okay. I’ll check my conference schedule and get back to you.”

  Ten minutes later, the cab pulled into the driveway of her hotel. Matt hopped out and paid the driver before she could object. He opened her door and helped her out. “Today’s my only day off, believe it or not. It’d be better to get our coffee on my calendar now. I’ll walk you up to your room, and while I grab you some ice for that ankle, you can check.” He caught her annoyed expression. “And then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  She composed her features. “That’s sweet. Thank you.” Somehow he knew. He knew that the moment he dropped her off, she’d make sure she was too busy for coffee. Spending time with him after all these years would be more awkward than she had social skills to handle. But if they had something on the calendar, she’d feel bound to follow through.

  They walked through the automatic sliding doors. The conference had proved engaging so far, but as an introvert, she craved some recharging time. Especially today. She’d never experienced fear as intensely as she had while running from those men. Would she no longer feel safe to go to the grocery store late at night? Or take a walk with her dog after sunset? From now on, would she imagine strangers following her?

  Would she even be able to fall asleep tonight? She couldn’t take any sleep aids like many business travelers did. She had a history of sleepwalking, and any treatments for insomnia would increase the chances. That was the last thing she needed in a big city.

  “Izzy?”

  She caught his concerned gaze. “Sorry. Lost in thought. Did you say something?”

  “I was wondering if you knew off the top of your head if you were free tonight. Would you want to have dinner instead? I could wait in the lobby while you freshen up.”

  Did that mean she looked like she needed freshening up? She pursed her lips. If he thought she was primping for him, he had another think coming. But it didn’t matter. “I’m afraid I can’t. My research center is counting on me to network with potential investors.” Responsibilities weighed her shoulders down. “I’m supposed to be at a dinner with other conference attendees in—” she glanced at her phone and groaned “—an hour.” So much for time to decompress.

  Her shoe caught on a snag in the carpet, and her ankle protested again. Matt put his arm around the back of her waist. “You really need to rest it.”

  The functional embrace was almost enough to make her forget everything he’d said all those years ago. A shock of heat slid up her spine. She remembered a time when Matt was nothing but sweet and caring. They had never run out of things to talk about. How many times had she gone home wishing he’d have shown a romantic interest in her?

  “By the way, no one calls me Izzy anymore,” she said.

  “Oh? I seem to remember it was Belle in elementary, Ibby in junior high and Izzy in high school.” He smirked. “What’s left?”

  Her cheeks heated at her younger self’s insistence at changing nicknames all the time. “Just plain Isabelle, thanks.”

  “I thought you didn’t like that.”

  “Yeah, well, that was for superficial reasons I’ve outgrown.”

  “Such as?”

  Did he really have to push it? She sighed. “I feel safe, as an adult, from the joke.”

  “Joke?”

  She felt her eyebrow rise. “Are you seriously trying to tell me you don’t remember it?”

  “Knock knock.” His lips were fighting a laugh.

  She sim
ultaneously wanted to smack him in the shoulder and laugh along with him. “I knew you knew it.” The rest of the joke played through her head automatically: Who’s there? Isabelle. Is a bell out of order? I had to knock.

  Oh, how she hated that joke and all the varieties that went with it. They had reached the back of the lobby.

  Matt slowed. “Where to?”

  She pointed to the left. Even though she’d requested a top floor, they’d put her on the bottom floor, where she could hear every footstep and door closing all night long. The smell of wet carpet hit her sinuses. The moisture was either from the heavy humidity or the remnants of a flooding.

  Judging by Matt’s tight lips, his hotel didn’t suffer the same problem. She pointed at the door to the left. “This is me.”

  “Okay. I’ll head for the ice machine while you get settled.” The moment her hand touched the door, Matt’s support left her. He strode down the hallway.

  She pushed the plastic key into the slot, but instead of the little light turning green, the door opened, almost as if on its own. Strange. Had she not closed it all the way?

  Utter darkness greeted her. Her breath hitched. She’d purposefully left the lamp on. Had housekeeping turned it off? She glanced at the door handle. The Do Not Disturb sign was still hanging where she’d placed it. Her back went rigid. Logically, it was possible the lightbulb had burned out.

  She groped for the light switch but couldn’t remember where it was. Her heart slammed into her chest as she searched for it with no result. What if someone was in the room, waiting for her? She jumped backward into the hallway, letting the door close in front of her. “Matt?” She hated the way her voice shook.

  “Everything okay?”

  “I think someone’s been in my room.” Her voice shook. He was going to think she’d turned into a basket case.

  His long stride reached her in a heartbeat. “Are you sure?”

  She shook her head. “No, but—” She waved at the door. “It’s different.”