Texas Takedown Page 8

  Matt placed his palm on top of her hand. “Except me.” His touch almost took her breath away.

  She smiled while trying to tame her racing heart and shallow breathing. “Except you.” Her words slipped past her tight throat in a whisper. The sights of San Antonio no longer held her interest. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Matt’s caring gaze, and she didn’t want to move a muscle to break contact, even though she knew she should.

  There was no good that could come from falling for Matt. He didn’t think of her that way, and even if that somehow changed, they both had busy, demanding lives thousands of miles apart.

  The carriage jolted and came to a halt.

  Matt’s hand disappeared. “Looks like our time is up.”

  She turned to face the bright lights of the hotel entryway and hoped his words weren’t true in more ways than one.

  Matt approached the reservation desk and made sure no one had tried to find out Isabelle’s room number. If anyone were watching them, it would appear as if she was making sure no one had accessed the main hotel safe.

  After confirming there’d been no inquiries, they walked toward the elevators in silence. Once inside, they turned around and looked out at the empty marble lobby, spotting a familiar figure slouched into the couch. His arms were folded and his chin rested against his chest.

  “Isn’t that—”

  Matt smacked a hand against the side of the elevator door, shoving them back open. “Mr. Frazer? Yeah. It appears he’s fallen asleep.” He stepped back into the lobby. “Sorry, Isabelle. I need to take care of this. Think you’ll get to your room okay?”

  She nodded when what she really wanted to do was shake her head. As the doors closed and the elevator made its way up to her room, the loneliness proved almost suffocating. It was easier to ignore the events of the week when someone else was with her. And she still was without a cell phone to keep her occupied.

  The doors slid open, and her heart raced as she leaned forward and peeked to the left and the right down the hallway. She detected nothing but the hum of a soda machine at the far end. No longer caring if she looked stupid, she ran until she reached her room, shoved the card into the reader and slammed the door behind her.

  The room lights were still on, just as she’d left them. She stepped no farther. Instead she bent down to see if the folded gum wrapper was still on the spot she’d left it. Satisfied, she checked the dresser. The broken toothpick was also where she’d left it. It appeared no one had been in her room.

  Matt was downstairs. She was safe. She could sleep.

  Her body didn’t want to listen to her, though. She still couldn’t inhale fully, which only stressed her out more. Her entire body began to shake, and her throat tightened. She would not cry, though. She was better than that. She could handle it. She’d been raised—trained, really—for moments like these.

  Okay, she wasn’t specifically prepared for her life to be in danger, her entire career to be hanging by a thread and the attraction to Matt to return with a terrifying renewed vigor. But her dad had taught her how to handle stress. Deep breath in for five seconds, deep breath out for five seconds...and her stomach gurgled. Great. She was starving.

  As she dived into her suitcase, hoping there was still a granola bar in the zippered compartment, reality hit her in the gut. Someone wanted her research, and they wanted her gone. And even if she went home with her tail between her legs without an investor, failure wouldn’t come with assurances the threat would be gone. She sank onto her mattress, defeated and no longer hungry. If she didn’t find the culprit soon, she’d end up dead either way.

  * * *

  Matt stood in front of the sleeping Mr. Frazer. Maybe the man wasn’t looking for a place to host an event at all. Maybe he was actually homeless, and that was why he’d been in the hotel last night, as well. Matt took a deep breath and sat next to him on the leather couch. “Mr. Frazer?”

  The man jostled and straightened. He chuckled. “I’m so sorry. I took advantage of your free coffee. I ordered decaf, but maybe I should’ve ordered high octane.” He stood. “Well, I’ll be off.”

  Matt wasn’t sure what to say lest he offend the man, so he watched him leave the lobby. The security cameras were located in the corners. Had they caught any strange men casing the hotel’s safe while Matt and Isabelle were held at gunpoint? He strolled to the security guard’s office. “Can you show me the footage from an hour ago?”

  Connor, the guard for the night shift, nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  If Matt found anyone who looked like a thief getting ready to break into the hotel’s safe, he would call the police. Time ticked by slowly as they ran through video showcasing different angles. The footage was grainy, but aside from people moving in and out of the lobby and Mr. Frazer slouched on the couch, there wasn’t any behavior of note. Maybe when the gunman had called someone about passwords as Isabelle aimed soda—Matt shook his head at the memory—it had scared off the impending robbery before it happened.

  “I want all staff to be on alert for any unusual behavior, though.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Paranoia might have made him overly cautious. Matt thanked Connor and headed straight for the front desk.

  He lifted his badge out of the cubby underneath the counter and slipped it on. When he worked in an official capacity, he wanted to make it known. Since he lived in the hotel, as well, the employees knew he was on the clock when the badge said so.

  And since he planned to accompany Isabelle the following day, he needed to work ahead and make preparations for the nursing conference tomorrow to ensure his employees had all the information they needed for the event to run smoothly.

  Ellen, a longtime employee, worked quietly on the nightly audit reports.

  Soothing melodies played softly through the lobby speakers. Otherwise there was nothing but silence. The adrenaline had kept him going while looking over security footage and preparing for the conference, but when Matt’s eyelids grew heavy, he glanced at the clock. Two in the morning. He’d be worthless to Isabelle if he didn’t get some sleep.

  The elevator dinged.

  Since no one had entered the lobby, it meant someone was coming down from the rooms. Usually it was tourists who had indulged in too much Texan food for their uninitiated stomachs to handle. “Got the antacids handy?”

  Ellen didn’t even look up from the lines of numbers on her screen. She held her hand up with the rolled package of Tums in her hand. “Not my first rodeo.”

  The doors slid open. Isabelle stood, barefoot and clad in pink striped pajamas. Head down and hair mussed, she staggered into the lobby and down the nearest hallway toward the twenty-four-hour fitness center.

  “What on earth?” Ellen asked.

  “I’ve got this.” Matt followed her. How was he supposed to keep her safe if she was going to roam the hotel in the middle of the night? He’d told her specifically to stay behind closed doors.

  Isabelle shuffled to the door to the fitness center, pushed the hotel key into the card reader and disappeared behind the door. Something was off. Going to the gym at two in the morning, barefoot, didn’t compute. Matt lengthened his stride to catch up.

  Through the glass door he could see Isabelle standing still on the treadmill, her expression slack but seemingly staring at the lone man doing crunches on a mat while he watched baseball replays on the television mounted from the ceiling. The man turned his head midcrunch, as if noticing Isabelle for the first time. He lurched upright into a sitting position.

  Matt opened the door. “She’s sleepwalking.”

  Isabelle didn’t react. The man turned to him, registering Matt’s name tag. He sighed. “Good. I was about to get worried,” he whispered.

  “You don’t have to be quiet. I’ll escort her out.”

  “I was done with m
y workout anyway.” The muscle-bound man picked up one of the hotel’s gym towels and flung it over his shoulder. “It’s dangerous to wake up a sleepwalker.”

  “That’s a myth,” Matt muttered as the man left the fitness center. Isabelle didn’t move a muscle. He’d had no idea she still struggled with the condition.

  He’d never forget the time his mom had found her the night before high-school finals week, making a turkey sandwich in his family’s kitchen at three in the morning. After that, they decided they probably shouldn’t leave a hide-a-key on the porch. Isabelle had known where it was since she’d watered their plants when they were on vacation. Her parents had also installed an alarm so they would know when she tried to leave in the middle of the night.

  Matt approached her from the side of the treadmill. “Isabelle.” He placed a hand gently on her arm while placing his other hand behind her back in case she startled. “Isabelle, honey, wake up.”

  She turned to look at him. Her forehead squinted with confusion before her entire face flushed with fear. Her body shuddered.

  “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

  Her eyes wide, she looked around. “Where am I?” She took shallow, rapid breaths.

  “Come here. There’s a bench here. Why don’t you sit down?” He led her gently until they were side by side. “You still sleepwalk?”

  She dropped her head into her hands. “I didn’t think so.” She looked up at her surroundings. “I mean, not in ages. Though I don’t remember unless someone tells me. And even when I was younger, it was only when I was super stressed out.” Her mouth dropped open.

  That explained it.

  Isabelle cringed. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep worrying. And after tonight...” She rubbed her temples.

  Matt didn’t need an explanation. Truth be told, he probably didn’t need to work so much tonight, but he wasn’t sure he could fall asleep, either.

  “Did anyone see me?”

  “One man thought you were stalking him.”

  Isabelle gaped. “You’re teasing.” She laughed as she caught sight of the game on television. “Besides, I’m not into sports.”

  He laughed halfheartedly. “Clearly some part of you is.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. Only it seems a little odd that you said liking the football star was just an attempt to get my attention, but then you up and dated him...for years.”

  One eyebrow lifted. “I don’t really see the connection, but I can tell you that when a handsome guy shows interest in you despite being warned off—in very unflattering terms, I might add—it feels nice.” Her eyebrows scrunched closer. “Besides, why do you care? We dated. It was fun. Never serious.”

  “It must’ve been serious if he asked you to move away with him.”

  “He wasn’t devastated that I said no. We weren’t some hot item. It wasn’t leading to marriage. We were just friends who also dated.”

  “Just friends, huh? Like we were friends?”

  She scrunched up her mouth and stood up, hands on her hips. “You can’t seriously be mad about this.” Isabelle’s shoulders dropped, and her expression softened. “Are you?”

  He couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to make his mouth stop. Just stop. The exhaustion and the fight with the gunman had taken more of a toll on his self-control than he’d realized. The emotion welled up in his chest until it burst. “I liked you, okay? Back then, I said all those things to Randy because I wanted you for myself. I know it was wrong and immature, and I should’ve told you right away at dinner last night. But I didn’t.” Like a tire leaking air, his words rushed out until he was left deflated.

  She took a step backward and looked up at the ceiling. “Wow.” She exhaled. “That’s—” A small laugh escaped. “We were quite a pair. A couple of chickens.”

  He blew out a breath. “Lying chickens.” He hung his head. She was crediting him with more grace than he deserved. “I’m sorry it came out that way. It’d been weighing on me. I needed to confess, and I need to ask your forgiveness.”

  “Given.” She lowered onto the bench beside him. “I’m glad you told me, even when we’re both a bit loopy from sleep deprivation.”

  Matt hung his head. He’d never been so tired.

  “And I’m glad we’re not teens anymore. I made so many stupid mistakes back then.” She punched his shoulder lightly. “So we can put all that behind us and be friends again. I’ve missed your friendship.”

  Her voice sounded light and airy, tickling his eardrums. Wait. Friendship? He was about to confess that his attraction and admiration had only grown, and instead, he’d been friend-zoned. His pride could not handle another blow. “Yes. Well, we’ve got an early morning tomorrow, so...”

  She yawned and stretched, almost on cue. “I hope I can go back to sleep. If you hadn’t stopped me...”

  He stood and took her hand to pull her back to standing. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure no one lets you walk into harm’s way.” Although he had yet to figure out how. There was too much at stake to leave the responsibility with his overnight skeleton crew.

  She smiled up at him with a peaceful, sleepy and trusting gaze. His heart almost flipped out of his chest. As he walked her back to the elevator, he debated if he could hire extra security staff while staying within budget. Since there wasn’t a proven, active threat on the hotel guests, it’d be hard to justify. Even if he pulled it off, his boss at corporate would object.

  Isabelle turned around at her door. “Good night, Matt.”

  Matt nodded. He took the elevator back down to the lobby. Only one solution presented itself. Ellen stood, holding the antacids in one hand. Matt waved at her and dragged the closest wingback chair into the elevator.

  His back sent out a warning twinge as he carried the chair—pulling it across the hallway might wake guests—until he reached Isabelle’s door. He carefully placed the wingback right in front of it and sat down with a sigh. Morning wasn’t too many hours away, but spending the night in the chair would make for a long one.

  “Sleeping on the job, huh?” a gruff voice asked.

  Matt jolted in the chair. His neck and back screamed at the quick change in position. He blinked and looked at his watch. Six in the morning already?

  The older man chuckled as he escorted his wife past Matt’s station.

  “Why would he be here?” the woman asked her husband. She pressed the elevator button.

  “How should I know?”

  “Maybe he’s guarding someone.” She gasped. “A celebrity or a royal?” She leaned back and flashed an expectant look at Matt.

  Matt stood at attention and tried his best to flash a smile that probably looked more like a sneer. “It’s hotel policy not to divulge the identity of our guests, ma’am.”

  The wife elbowed her husband. “Wait until Marge hears about this. She’s gonna wish she’d stayed with us.”

  Matt turned his back to the couple and rubbed his face awake. He prayed the Lord would hear him and keep danger away from Isabelle, because at the moment, Matt was no good to anyone. He was dead on his feet.

  EIGHT

  No. Everyone—or at least half her list of prospective investors—said no. They were more polite than that, but the result was the same. Her research and institute were synonymous with “risk we can’t afford right now.” In other words, they didn’t want anyone targeting them.

  And yet everyone she had talked to indicated they couldn’t wait for her presentation. Perhaps that meant they were hoping to figure out the trigger to tracking her research for themselves. She’d have to omit the story about what inspired her to think of the idea, in case their minds worked the same way.

  Sandra Parveen, the conference organizer, had been accommodating to her request to allow Matt access and even a box
ed dinner. It was a good thing, since Matt refused to leave her alone anymore. Most conferences would’ve refused, but Parveen had gushed instead. “Consider it a presenter perk. We might want favors from Matt someday.”

  Isabelle hoped that wasn’t the case.

  As if she knew Isabelle had been replaying the conversation in her mind, Sandra approached while Isabelle stood in line for the boxed dinners.

  “Hank called me this afternoon for an update.” Sandra Parveen had a conspiratorial tone to her voice. “He was very upset after hearing about the Tower incident last night.”

  Isabelle groaned. Hank didn’t need any more stress. There was a reason—besides not having a phone—she hadn’t kept Hank updated on the attempts. “But you told him the gunman was arrested, right? I’m perfectly safe.”

  Sandra waved Isabelle’s concern away. “Of course, but he wanted to make sure you had transportation back to the hotel tonight. His treat. I’m supposed to let you know that he already scheduled a cab to pick you up once the evening session is over.”

  “Oh. That’s thoughtful. Thank you.” It was just like her uncle to do something like that. Even though his finances were already tight.

  Isabelle walked past a group of chatting marine biologists. This particular day of the conference was a highlight because the extra classes and workshops lasted into the evening. Thankfully they provided dinner. She had tried to talk Matt into going back to the hotel when she realized how long a day it would be, but he refused.

  She rounded the corner and spotted him, sitting in the lobby of the conference center. He didn’t see her, though. In his business suit, he blended in with the rest of the professionals. She slowed her steps so she could stare longer.

  The odd thing about sleepwalking was that she never recalled what she’d done, no matter how hard she struggled to recollect. But she remembered everything after Matt had woken her up on the treadmill. She’d been fully awake for the conversation in the fitness center, but it had seemed like a dream. Every tiny detail, even the ones she wanted to forget, like the state of her hair, had seared into her conscious.