by Amy Reece
“Sure. I was too nervous to eat breakfast, but I’m starving now. Can we do Mexican?”
He grinned and kissed her temple before reaching to open the passenger door for her. “I’m always up for Mexican.”
She directed him to Monroe’s, one of her favorite restaurants, which he said he hadn’t tried yet. “They have the best salsa in town.” They chose their seats and placed drink orders. “I need to run to the bathroom. Excuse me.” Izzy stood and pushed her chair in.
She was washing her hands at the sink when the bathroom door swung open. She glanced up at the mirror and saw the reflection of a woman with long brown hair enter. The counter was directly in front of the stalls and it was a tight fit, so Izzy straightened and slid as close to the sink as possible to allow the woman to pass. She was annoyed when the woman crowded against her anyway and started to give her a dirty look.
The woman stepped even closer and grabbed Izzy’s hair, pulling her back against her tall body. “Hello, Izzy. Remember me?” she growled in her ear.
Izzy began to scream, but the woman slapped her hand over her mouth.
“None of that. I promise you’ll regret it.”
Izzy felt something sharp prod at her back below her ribs. Her scream turned into whimper.
“Wise decision. My first attempt to shut you up didn’t go quite as I planned, so I decided to go for a more direct approach.”
Izzy felt the knife push harder against her, breaking the skin and sinking in painfully a few centimeters. She felt the warm, wet flow of blood seep into the waistband of her slacks. Abject terror flooded her as she realized she was completely at the mercy of this unknown woman.
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. At least, not right now. I’m simply here to let you know what a terrible idea it would be to tell anyone about what you saw in the financial records from Lyon Millwork. We’ll consider this a little warning, a reminder to keep your goddamned mouth shut.” The knife pushed a bit deeper, causing the blood to flow again. Then the knife was removed and the woman swiftly exited the bathroom.
Izzy reached a trembling hand to her side and felt the warm, sticky blood soaking through her shirt. She didn’t think it was terribly deep or serious, but she felt woozy nonetheless, most likely from the shock of having a knife pulled on her. She’d stupidly left her purse and cell phone at the table with Mac, so she knew she had to get herself out of the bathroom. She stumbled to the door and made her way to the edge of the dining room. She could see Mac at their table across the room, his back to her as he sat facing the door, like cops tended to insist upon. She hated to cause a scene, so she clasped her arms against her side to hide the worst of the blood and walked shakily to Mac.
***
Mac
She sure is taking a long time in the bathroom. He grabbed another tortilla chip and scooped it into the salsa bowl. He shoved the entire thing in his mouth, savoring the blend of tomatoes, jalapeño, onion, and green chile with just the right amount of cilantro. Izzy appeared and slowly slid into her seat. “You were right about this salsa, hon. It’s the best I’ve ever—what’s wrong?” He frowned as he noticed how pale she was and how she was clutching her side.
She peeled her hand away from her body and he saw it was covered with blood, as was her blouse.
“Shit!” He leapt out of his seat and knelt beside her. “What the hell happened?” He gently lifted her blouse and saw a small cut just above the waistband of her slacks. It looked fairly deep.
“Please, Mac. Can we go? People are starting to look over here.”
He didn’t give a flying fuck if everyone in the restaurant was watching, but he knew Izzy would be embarrassed. It couldn’t be helped, however. He turned to wave down the waitress. “I need a first aid kit!” He turned back to Izzy. “What happened?”
“A woman.” She hissed as he touched the skin near the wound. “In the bathroom. She slammed me up against the sink and stuck a knife in my back.”
“You were mugged in the bathroom? Is she still here?” He swept his gaze wildly around the restaurant. “What did she look like?”
“I don’t think she’s here. It wasn’t a mugging. She was the one who tried to run me over, the one in the car.” Izzy was valiantly trying to hold back her tears. “She warned me not to talk about what I found in the Lyon files.”
The waitress returned with a first aid kit and the manager. Izzy appeared mortified to see all the people around their table craning their necks to check out what was going on. “What happened?” the manager asked. “Should I call an ambulance or the paramedics?”
“No!” Izzy exclaimed. “Please, no. I’ll be all right.”
Mac ignored her. “Call the police. She was attacked in the bathroom.” He flashed his badge and explained he was with Homeland Security, which seemed to propel the manager to action. “Izzy, what did she look like?”
Izzy described the woman—long brown hair, tall—and Mac stood to look around the restaurant.
“I saw her,” the waitress said. “She left in a hurry a couple minutes ago.”
Mac cursed under his breath and knelt again beside Izzy to examine the wound. “All right. This looks pretty deep. I think you may need a couple stitches, so I’ll take you to the emergency room after we talk to the police.”
“Fine.” She looked exhausted suddenly and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms. The police showed up within minutes—a violent attack in a restaurant apparently rated higher than a traffic accident—and Izzy repeated her story several times. They asked her to stop by the downtown police headquarters later that day so she could sit with a police sketch artist.
Mac drove her to the emergency room as soon as the police released them and the emergency room doctor cleaned her wound and applied liquid stitches. It wasn’t serious, but it also wasn’t simply a scratch. She insisted they go home so she could change clothes before they went to the police station, saying she had some hope of soaking her slacks in cold water before the blood completely dried. The blouse was a complete loss and he winced as she threw it in the trash.
“I am officially over this whole thing, Mac! I never wanted to be part of a police investigation!” She slammed the lid of the trash can and marched to her closet to find another.
“Hey.” He rose from the bed and walked to stand behind her. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and watched her face in the mirror on the closet door. “I know, sweetheart. This sucks, but we’re going to find her. I won’t let this happen again. I’ll keep you safe from now on.” The guilt burned through his gut; he’d been right there, only a dozen or so feet away while some bitch shoved a knife in Izzy’s back!
Izzy turned in his arms and began to cry softly. “I was so scared, Mac. She could have killed me.”
He let her cry it out while he stroked his hands over her back, careful to stay away from the bandage. He was scared too. He couldn’t be with her every second of the day and night. And what about Janey? If they could find Izzy while she was at lunch, they certainly knew about her daughter. “Why don’t you get a new shirt on and we’ll head to the police station.” The sooner they got a sketch of the unsub, the sooner he’d be able to sleep at night.
While she was in with the police sketch artist, he spoke to the captain on duty and arranged for a protective detail for Izzy and Janey. Once that was taken care of, he knew he needed to notify her family. He sighed and realized the best one to call was Finn; he’d be pissed to hear it from someone else, and he’d be able to rally the others quickly. Plus, as a police officer, he’d understand what was happening better than any of her other siblings. Shit. I am not looking forward to this conversation.
Finn answered on the first ring. “This is DeLuca.”
“Finn, it’s Mac.” He told him, as succinctly as possible, what had happened to Izzy. “We’re at the downtown police station now. She’s still in with the sketch artist, but we should be finished soon.”
“Are you heading back to Izzy’s hou
se? Chris and I will meet you there. I’ll handle telling the rest of the family. Goddamn it, Mac! What about Janey? Who’s picking her up?”
“Shit. I haven’t gotten that far.” He scrubbed his hand over his face as he realized all the details he hadn’t thought of. “We’ll pick her up on the way home. I’ve already arranged for protective details for both Izzy and Janey, but I’m sure they’re not at the daycare yet.” His blood ran cold at the thought of anyone hurting his daughter.
“Chris and I can head over right now and pick her up. I’m on the approved list, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Can you give them a quick call and tell them we’re on our way and let them know to be extra vigilant about Janey for the time being?”
“I’ll do it as soon as I hang up with you.” He speared his hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. “Thanks, Finn. We’ll meet you back at Izzy’s place as soon as we’re finished here.” He pushed the end button and shoved the phone in his pocket before joining Izzy in the small room with the sketch artist.
“Can you make the jaw a bit more angular?” Izzy asked as she peered over the woman’s shoulder. “And maybe arch her eyebrows a little more?”
The artist made the changes requested and presented the sketch for Izzy’s approval.
“Well, it’s the best I remember. It’s not exactly like the woman who attacked me, but I can’t think of anything else to change.” She shrugged and handed it to Mac.
He frowned as he stared at the drawing; it reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t think who. He handed it back to the artist. “Is she finished?”
The woman nodded and left, taking the drawing with her.
He explained about the protective detail as he drove them back to Izzy’s house.
“I just want to lock Janey and myself inside the house until they catch that woman. I don’t suppose that’s very practical though, is it? Aren’t we going to pick Janey up?” She turned to him, frowning, as he drove past the freeway exit that would take them to the preschool.
“Finn and Chris are getting her. They’ll meet us at the house.”
She sighed and reached for his hand. “Along with the rest of my family, I suppose. Well, it’s for the best. They’d all throw a fit if they found out later. Who did you call?”
“Just Finn. He said he and Chris would take care of calling everyone else.” He rubbed his thumb across her soft fingers as they drove.
The driveway and curb in front of her house was packed with cars when they pulled up ten minutes later, including a police car.
“Looks like your protective detail is here.”
Inside, the house smelled like coffee and was buzzing with conversation. Janey ran to meet them at the door and Izzy knelt on the floor to hug her tightly.
“Momma, why is everyone here? There’s a policeman too! Grammy is making him coffee in the kitchen.” Janey pulled away from her mother and frowned.
“Hey, Princess.” Mac scooped her into his arms. “Your mom’s had a rough day. Let’s go sit on the couch and I’ll tell you what’s going on.” He told her as succinctly and calmly as possible about how Izzy was attacked and injured in the bathroom while they were at lunch. He didn’t go into great detail, but he had promised never to lie to her again and figured she deserved to know why she would be watched extra close in the next few days. He prayed it would only be a few days before they caught the woman.
“Did Momma ever get to eat lunch?” Janey asked, her green eyes wide.
Mac stared at her, dumfounded for a moment. “Uh, no. I guess neither of us did.”
“I’ll tell Grammy.” She hopped from his lap. “She’ll make you something.” She skipped into the kitchen, leaving Mac to marvel at her sweetness and practicality. He’d told her about some pretty scary stuff and she took it all in stride, choosing instead to focus on more practical matters. He stood and went to find Izzy.
She was talking to her older brother, who had apparently decided to take the blame for the entire situation. “Knock it off, Hugh. It’s certainly not your fault and no one blames you.”
“I’m the one who asked you to look through those goddamned files in the first place!” He spit the words out and Mac could see his jaw pulsing.
“That’s just business, Hugh. You had no idea Lyon Millwork was anything except a legitimate option for our finish carpentry contract. Please don’t waste time beating yourself up about this, okay?” She hugged him quickly and turned to Chris. “A little help here?”
Chris calmly sipped the coffee she’d brought from the kitchen. “Oh, I’ve already told him the exact same thing at least a dozen times. He’s too stubborn to listen to anyone and prefers to obsess over it and take all the blame. It’s a common trait amongst DeLuca males, or so I’ve heard.”
“Hey!” Finn approached holding two beers. He handed one to Hugh. “So she’s on to us already, huh?”
“I’m sure she figured it out about thirty seconds after she was assigned to be your partner,” Mel said as she slipped her arm around Finn’s waist. She was sipping a cup of tea, chamomile, by the smell of it. Finn draped his arm over her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
Mac watched the two married couples as jealousy—sharp and cutting—stabbed through his gut. The intimacy between a loving, married couple was different than that between a girlfriend and boyfriend. He glanced at Izzy and saw her watching Finn and his wife, a soft, somewhat sad expression on her face. He sighed and reached for her hand. “I think your mom has some food for us in the kitchen, love.”
“What?” She looked up at him blankly.
He leaned down and kissed her softly. “You haven’t eaten all day. You were too nervous to have breakfast and lunch was interrupted. Janey is worried.”
She smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I could eat.”
***
It was past midnight when they were finally able to seek their bed. They’d had to repeat the story of the events of the day again and again to her various family members and finally to his dad, whom he’d called after they’d eaten the small meal Moira prepared; David had hurried to Izzy’s house to be with the rest of the family. He’d been great, keeping Janey occupied while the rest of the adults discussed the attack on Izzy and what the police were doing to find the woman. Moira and Hugh had both volunteered to keep Janey for the night, but Mac and Izzy refused, saying they needed their daughter at home. There would be no protective detail while Mac was with them, but it would pick up in the morning when Izzy was at work and Janey at daycare.
“It’s been a hell of a day,” she murmured against his chest.
He chuckled and caressed her bare shoulder. “God, I’m glad it’s finally over. I’m exhausted, but I doubt I’ll be able to fall asleep. How’s your back?”
“It’s okay. I took an ibuprofen a little while ago.” She was silent for a time. “Mac, I feel so helpless and I hate it. Twice now someone has almost killed me. Isn’t there anything I can do to protect myself? Can you teach me how to shoot a gun or wield a knife or something? Please?”
“I don’t think carrying a weapon is a good idea, love.”
“I don’t love the idea, either, but I have to do something! It’s so frustrating!” She made to roll over, away from him.
“Hey, come here.” He pulled her back to his side. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. How about I teach you some self-defense moves? It would make you feel a little bit more empowered, at least.”
“Really? That would be great, Mac! Can we start tomorrow?”
“I promise we’ll start as soon as your wound is healed. You need to take it easy for a week or so.”
“I’m getting pretty sick of being injured.” She ran her fingers through his chest hair, tracing his tattoo. “Since you can’t sleep, I can think of something to pass the time.”
He stilled her fingers, bringing her hand to his lips. “Not tonight, sweetheart. You need to rest.” He rolled to his side, turning her and spooning against her warm body. “Go to sleep, Izzy.
I love you.”
She sighed, but snuggled into him. “Love you too, Mac. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Always, love.” He listened to her breathing, waiting for it to even out as she slipped into sleep. She had to be utterly exhausted. He knew how draining a large hit of adrenaline, like she’d experienced during her attack, was on a body. She was sound asleep within five minutes, her soft snores causing him to smile. He slipped out from under the covers, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and treaded softly from the room and across the hall to check on Janey. She’d thrown off her covers and her little feet were icy. He warmed them in his large palms for a moment before tucking her under her thick pink comforter. He kissed her forehead before doing yet another sweep of the house, triple checking all the windows and doors to make sure they were securely shut and locked. He finally slipped back into bed beside Izzy, vowing nothing and no one would ever harm them again.
Chapter Eleven
Izzy
This protective detail is going to drive me insane! She shut her office door behind her, leaving the uniformed police officer—it was Kelly today—to cool her heels in the reception area with Malva. There was no other way into her office except through the waiting room, so the officers assigned to watch her all day, every day, were willing to let her have a bit of solitude and privacy while at work. She turned on her Keurig and sat at her desk while she waited for the coffee to brew. She set her elbows on her desk top, steepling her fingers under her chin. How much longer can this possibly go on? I need my life back! There was an officer waiting to take her to work every morning while another waited at the preschool when Mac dropped Janey off. This had to cost some city or state agency a freaking fortune, and she wondered how much longer it could possibly continue. Judging by the frown lines that had taken up permanent residence between Mac’s eyes, not too much longer. The coffee finished brewing and she stood to retrieve it from the machine. She stopped in front of her window, sipping the strong, dark brew while she stared outside. She knew she should be grateful for the protection—and she was—but it was beginning to wear on her, causing her to be short-tempered and snappish. Mac was moody and withdrawn, and Izzy didn’t know how to reassure him. Janey was the only one in the household happy with the new state of affairs. She seemed to love the extra attention and had made friends with all the officers assigned to watch her, choosing small toys and books from her collection to take for them every day.