Her fingers slipped. How bad would it hurt to slam into the ground from this height? Would she feel anything or would everything just go black? Oh God, help me, please!
Her hand slipped farther.
Terror engulfed her.
Ryan’s heart jammed itself in his throat. He couldn’t shoot the guy earlier, not because the guy wasn’t armed, but because if he went over the wall, Izzy would go with him. Only now he couldn’t shoot him because the dude was running away and Izzy needed his help. Now. He heard the noise of backup arriving and hoped someone would see the fleeing man. Ryan threw himself toward the wall, only to see one of Izzy’s hands slip off. “Izzy!”
“Ryan!”
“Izzy! Izzy, hang on!” The cry came from the ground below and he thought he recognized Chloe’s voice.
Ryan ignored the action going on outside the parking garage, reached the wall, and grasped her wrist. With a grunt, he leaned over. “Give me your other hand.”
She swung her arm up and clasped his forearm with desperate fingers. He held on tight. Running footsteps and shouts reached his ears as he hauled Izzy back onto the side of safety.
Her feet hit the floor and she fell against him, trembling, her breath coming in panicked spurts. He helped her to the floor and she sat with her back against the wall. “Thanks.”
“Izz …”
“I know.”
“You—”
“I know, Ryan.”
“Talk about an adrenaline rush.”
She lifted her head and glared at him.
He shrugged. “Sorry.”
He kept his voice light, but she saw the fading fear in his eyes. The incident had terrified him.
She knew the feeling.
He lightly touched her throat. “You’re going to have bruises.”
“I’ll take that over death.” She frowned at him. “You should have shot him.”
“I wanted to. You kept getting in the way. I couldn’t take a chance on hitting you.”
“Right. And one more thing.”
“What?”
“You can’t tell my mom about this.”
He let out a huff of breath. “Yeah, let’s keep this one to ourselves.”
“Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
“That was the guy who stole my phone at church.”
He fell silent. “Then we have a problem.”
She snorted. “Well, I do anyway. You think they got him?”
“I don’t know. Will your legs hold you long enough to go find out?”
“I have no idea.” She held up a hand and Ryan clasped her fingers to pull her to her feet. “They’re still wobbly, but I think I can make it.”
Once she was steady, she followed him down to the first floor, hearing the clamor of the police action going on. Paramedics and fellow officers met her on the bottom floor. “Did you get him?”
“Izzy!” She turned to see Chloe racing toward her, her K-9, Hank, loping at her side. “Izzy, that was you hanging from the building. What happened? Are you okay?” She threw her arms around her sister and squeezed.
Izzy winced, but managed to pat Chloe on her back. “I’m fine. It’s okay. It’s a crazy story.” Man, her throat hurt.
“And one that’s probably going to be on the evening news,” Ryan muttered.
“What?”
He nodded toward the crowd who’d gathered. Their iPhones were still videoing. Izzy groaned. “Great. That’s just great.”
15
6:30 P.M.
Izzy let herself into her side of the duplex and shut the door, throwing the dead bolt home before crossing the den area to the window. Ryan had insisted she needed someone watching her home. After everything that had happened, she was in full agreement.
She’d had a full day that consisted of a quick hospital visit to ensure no broken bones, then back to the office to search for the man who’d attacked her, which included hours of sitting in front of the computer looking at mug shots and drinking bad coffee. Every muscle in her shoulders—and other parts of her body—screamed their displeasure with the misadventures of the day.
She didn’t blame them. She wasn’t so thrilled with the day’s events herself.
At the window, Izzy pushed aside the curtain to see Ryan roll up to the curb and stop. He’d insisted on searching her car, then following her home after they’d grabbed a quick bite to eat. And she hadn’t had the energy to dissuade him.
She waved and he returned the gesture before pulling away. Closing the curtain before she gave in to the temptation to beg him to stay, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Mozart shot through the doggie door and pranced at her feet. Izzy dropped to her knees to bury her face in his silky white fur. Absently, she noted he’d had a bath. Mrs. Spade had been busy.
The parking garage incident flashed through her mind and she shuddered. Touching her still sore throat, the images flickered, larger than life. Would she even be able to sleep tonight without reliving every horrifying second? She’d only been that terrified one other time in her life. Terrified and helpless. Two things she’d vowed never to feel again after her disastrous relationship with Mick. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the edge of the knife pressed against her throat. She swallowed. God, I know you’re sovereign, you can bring good from evil, but sometimes it’s hard to remember that.
After today’s incident, it was obvious that no matter what kind of promises she made to herself, she wasn’t the one in control. She’d failed today.
“Epically,” she muttered.
What had he been looking for anyway? He’d been thorough, emptying the glove box, the center console, even the driver’s door pocket of its varied receipts and trash she’d been meaning to clean out and hadn’t gotten around to yet.
Looking for cash? Drugs? What?
Where is it? He’d asked her that question. So, his search of her car had been deliberate, not random. He’d been looking for something specific.
Mozart licked her nose and went to the sliding glass doors that led out to the fenced backyard. She opened it for him, then put food and fresh water in the dog bowls and let him back inside. He went straight to his bowls and she locked the door. The pictures Ryan had shown her today flipped through her mind and she swallowed against the sudden lump. She missed Kevin.
And then something occurred to her.
She had a date to try as Kevin’s password. But she’d left the device with Ryan.
Izzy pulled her personal phone from her pocket and sent a text to Ryan.
Where are you? If you’re not home yet, come by my house first and bring Kevin’s phone with you.
When he didn’t answer right away, she debated just calling him. But he’d said something about going by his parents’ before going home and she hated to disturb him. He’d text her back when he could, and stopping by her house wouldn’t be an imposition if he was already at his parents’.
He’d pass right by her duplex on his way to his condominium complex about five minutes away. He’d bought his home after she’d rented her duplex, and Izzy’s father had grinned when he’d heard the news. “Us on one side of her and Ryan on the other. Couldn’t ask for better protection than that.”
Izzy had scowled at him. “I can take care of myself.” Only to find out she wasn’t so great at taking care of herself. Not when it came to judging men anyway. She shuddered. Mick Sinclair had been a huge mistake. One she was still paying for, since she couldn’t seem to bring herself to trust anyone else for anything as simple as a first date.
Izzy grabbed her phone and walked into her bedroom to flop onto the bed. Mozart jumped up and settled himself at her feet.
She set her phone on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling with tired eyes. More than anything, she simply wanted to bury her head in her pillow, pull the covers over her head, and stay there until the pain went away.
But life went on. And she had killers to find.
And a phone code to crack. Could s
he possibly be right about the code? Impatience surged. She could just get in the car and go find Ryan. But she didn’t want to intrude if he was with his family. The code could wait another few minutes.
With a sigh, she checked her phone to make sure she’d hear it if Ryan texted or called, then turned off the lamp. In the semi-darkness she lay there thinking, drifting. Only to jerk when a sound reached her. Mozart’s ears twitched, then he lifted his head to stare into the hall. She glanced at the clock. She’d fallen asleep and snoozed for two hours.
Frowning, Izzy stayed still. Sometimes the old duplex creaked as it settled in for the night.
Only this time the sound came from the direction of the front door.
That wasn’t the duplex settling. Could Mrs. Spade be outside and about to knock? She waited.
Nothing.
Mozart placed his head back between his paws and huffed a sigh.
Izzy held still a moment longer, then relaxed back against the pillow. Only to sit back up when Mozart bolted to the floor with a growl. “What is it, boy?”
Had her visitor from the other day come back? The one she’d caught a glimpse of through her fence? The one that had run and no one had been able to track down?
Or was it the guy from the parking garage? The Hulk?
But probably not, since there was an officer watching. He would have alerted her to any problems. Wouldn’t he? She dialed his number and he didn’t pick up. Weird. Uneasiness curled within her.
She rolled off the bed, slipped on a pair of tennis shoes, and grabbed her Glock from the nightstand as well as her iPhone. She shoved the phone into her pocket and gripped the weapon, feeling its comforting weight against her palm.
Mozart had left the bedroom and walked down the hall into the living area. She stepped behind him and he gave a low bark without pulling his gaze from the front door. Izzy’s adrenaline spiked another notch. She walked to the door and stood to the side, listening. She needed to look through the peephole, but wariness prevented her from wanting to stand in front of the door. Finally, after about a minute with no more sounds reaching her, she moved to look through the peephole she’d had installed after her fiasco relationship with Mick.
She could see a faint shadow off to the left. She stepped back to the side of the door.
She slipped to the window and looked out. The officer had parked two doors down in an unmarked car. The car was there, but she couldn’t tell if he was still in the driver’s seat or not. She tried his number again. And still nothing. Not good.
Walking through the living area to the sliding glass door, she decided she’d slip out and around to her front door to see what—or who—the shadow was. Mozart danced at her feet, anxious to go out as well. She unlocked the door and pulled. Only it didn’t budge. She frowned and put more power into it.
Nothing.
“What?”
Izzy dropped to her knees and looked at the bottom of the door. Someone had jammed it. Somehow. All around the door was an odd yellow-colored substance. Insulating foam? Really? So … this was deliberate. Unwilling to waste any more time on a dead end, she spun and headed for the door that would lead her to the garage. Mozart followed her.
And the lights blinked off.
Ryan glanced at his phone. He hadn’t heard it or felt it vibrate. Odd. But Izzy’s message now glared up at him. She thought she might know the code and wanted him to bring Kevin’s phone by so they could try it.
What’s the code?
He waited for a good five minutes for her to answer while watching his mother. She sat on the couch with Aunt Jessica, her head resting on her sister’s shoulder. All visitors had left and just family remained.
Cathy picked up a few paper plates that had been placed on the coffee table. Ryan followed her into the kitchen. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’ve got to run by Izzy’s for a bit. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“You sure are running off to see Izzy a lot these days. Is there something going on there?”
Ryan almost smiled. Cathy had always been able to read him. “Maybe.”
Her brow rose. “Really?”
He shrugged. “I like her. Admire her. She’s a good cop and will make detective one day soon, I guarantee it.”
“Izzy was always ambitious.”
“All the St. Johns are.”
She dropped the paper plates into the trash. “Well, what do you expect with parents like theirs?”
He let out a low laugh. “Yeah. The stress of being their kid has to be enormous. I’m kind of surprised none of them went over to the other side.” Izzy’s text beckoned and he backed toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Not for the first time, he noticed the faint shadows under her eyes. “Get some sleep, Cath.”
“You too.”
Ryan shot another text to Izzy.
The code?
Once in his car, he fastened his seat belt and dropped his phone into the cup holder. At the entrance to the subdivision, he started to pull out when a car blew past him going at least twenty miles over the speed limit. Ryan slammed on his brakes, sending his phone flying into the floorboard.
Ryan growled, hit his blue lights, and gave chase.
16
Izzy’s pulse hammered in her ears. How much time had passed since the lights went off? Five minutes? Ten? What was he doing?
When it first went dark, she’d waited, listening over the thundering of her heart. But after the power failure, there’d been nothing else.
Questions assaulted her. She moved back to the front door and noticed the shadow was gone.
Was danger really lurking outside her home? If she called it in and no one was out there … yeah … that wasn’t happening. Except there was foam insulation around her door and windows preventing her from getting out that way. Someone was up to something. But what? And could she handle it herself?
Izzy looked out into the garage. She could get in her car, back out, and shine her lights on the front porch area.
Only she had no power for the garage door. She could manually pull it up, but who might be waiting on the other side? What if that’s exactly what he was waiting for her to do?
But he who?
And how did he find her? Assuming there was someone actually out there.
She stopped and pressed her head against the wall. “Think, Izzy. You had a bad scare today and now something else is going down. So think.”
She needed to get out and get out now. Scanning the garage once more, she decided it wasn’t going to be an exit option. She’d be too exposed opening the garage door and there were no windows to enable her to climb out.
So now what?
A quick tap on her screen sent her call through to Ryan’s phone—and voice mail. “Call me when you get this.” She hung up. Should she call someone else? Chloe?
No.
911?
Probably.
Fear skittered up her spine and her brain spun. Using the flashlight feature on her iPhone, she moved to the nearest window to look into the backyard. The floodlights had also gone out, blanketing the area in darkness. And giving a good cover to whoever was out there.
Izzy debated whether or not to try to go out the front door. Or would it be better to throw something through the sliding glass door? And risk alerting her position to whoever was watching?
Probably not a good idea.
Then again, she had no other windows in the den area, the glass door providing plenty of light for the room.
So, she’d go out her bedroom window.
She rushed down the hall. “Ryan, pick up the phone.” Of course he didn’t.
She hung up and dialed Chloe’s number.
Voice mail.
Great. She dialed 911 as she hurried to her bedroom.
“… what’s your emergency? Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Ah yes, sorry.” She’d been so focused on trying to figure out what to do she hadn’t heard the woman come on the
line. “This is Izzy St. John.” She gave her badge number. “I think someone’s sneaking around my house and possibly looking for a way to get in. Could you send a car ASAP? I might need some backup.” She didn’t know that someone was trying to get in, but she had a distinct feeling someone was trying to “smoke her out,” so to speak.
“Absolutely. Stay on the line with me, all right?”
Izzy went to the window and unlocked it. She gave it a tug and it didn’t budge. Leaning harder into it didn’t help. Her blood ran cold when it refused to move. Somehow he’d jammed her windows too? She squinted and saw more yellow-colored stuff around the edges of her windows. Insulation foam? Whatever. She needed to find a way out.
Heart hammering in her throat, she took a breath.
He’d blocked every exit except the front door. It was like he wanted her to come out the front door. So, that wasn’t happening.
Her phone beeped, indicating she had a call coming in.
She looked at the screen.
Ryan. Without hesitation, she switched over. “Where are you?” She moved to the next window and still couldn’t see anything. The streetlight closest to her was out. It had been working last night.
“Well, hello to you too. I started to chase down an idiot who needs some driving lessons, but decided coming to see you was more important. I’m about three minutes away. What’s—”
Mozart barked at the front door, then raced to the sliding glass door, then back to the front door. A shadow near the bedroom window crossed her line of vision, then a face with a mask looked right in at her before it disappeared.
She let out a scream and ran into the living area.
“Izzy! What’s going on?”
“Someone’s trying to break into my house. Get over here, please, and bring backup.”
“Are you sure?”
Gunshots sounded and bullets pelted her front door. “Pretty sure!”
“Izzy!”
Mozart went crazy, barking and growling, lunging at the door. Fortunately, the bullets were flying above his head. At a lull in the shooting, Izzy darted and scooped the animal into her arms and spun to run into the bathroom.
Oath of Honor Page 13