The Chase

by Jesse J. Thoma

  Isabelle didn’t know if Holt’s answer helped. She didn’t know if she expected it to. Did Holt not want a future with her? Was she also too fucking stressed to think about more than an hour from now? Isabelle kissed Holt, a long, slow, kiss. At least that always felt nice.

  “Isabelle,” Holt murmured against her lips, “I think I―”

  “Holy shit. Sorry, boss lady. I’ll, uh, I guess, um, later.”

  Holt moved away from Isabelle just far enough to catch the back of Max’s shirt before she was able to scamper back out the door.

  “Speak.”

  “Um, okay, so I was looking up Pence. Going to talk to Isabelle about…You know what, I should have knocked. I’ll come back later,” Max said, looking like she was waiting for Holt to spontaneously combust.

  “You’re here now,” Holt said.

  Isabelle was intrigued by what Holt was going to say, but felt relief as well. It was nice to take a break from feelings and hear some bad guy catching news. She didn’t know if she was ready to hear what Holt had to say, and if Holt said it, she had no idea how she’d react to whatever it was. At least the bad guys were something tangible, something to focus on that didn’t include her own emotional roller coaster.

  “Um, right.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Max. I won’t let her bite you. She was kissing me, something she can resume when we’re done. What did you want to talk to me about?” Isabelle couldn’t help laughing. Max was so easily put off by Holt.

  Max didn’t look convinced, but she carried on. “I wanted to get your sense of Decker Pence. I want to focus my initial search if possible, to save time. I didn’t know if you had any ideas.”

  “Well, now that you mention it, I’ve got something maybe you can help me figure out.” Isabelle walked back to the computer screen she had been staring at before Holt distracted her. “This spreadsheet has been bothering me since I got it. Decker Pence said it was just a training file, but I can’t let it go.”

  “This is that crazy file you mentioned on your list of potential threats? There are really line items for gas bubbles?” Max asked, laughing.

  “And soap bubbles, air bubbles, the Washington Nationals, Florida Marlins, Texas Rangers, a fox, a lion, and a weasel, and I found one mention of a Los Angeles rapper. It makes no sense,” Isabelle said. “But look at the bubbles, all varieties. Those are really large numbers, and there are only five of them. Looks like you could get a pretty decent house for those amounts of money, or a lot of jewelry, or a really fancy car. Maybe you could start there?”

  Max looked ridiculously excited. “Can I have a copy of this file?” Max asked. When Isabelle nodded, she quickly made a copy and ran from Holt’s office.

  “That went well,” Holt said.

  Isabelle slipped back into her arms and kissed her again. “Tell me more about this benefit that is at the very end of your future vision.”

  “Well, it’s for the same charity that Max won a bunch of money for by beating me in the run. It’s the only time I have to see my parents each year, and I think it’s the only thing left in the world we agree on. Not long after I started this business, I also started the charity and the gala benefits. It’s fun. Everyone around here takes the black tie dress code very seriously and scrubs up well.”

  “Black tie you say? Then I have the perfect time killer until we find a bad guy. Sitting around your office isn’t really distracting me. I haven’t gotten any work done today, and I’ve already beaten the three games I have on my phone. Only logical thing to do is go shopping for this benefit of yours. Come with me?”

  The pained look on Holt’s face suggested that shopping wasn’t her thing.

  “Shopping sounds great.”

  “Not willing to let me out of your sight? Even if you have to go to the mall?”

  “How did you know the smell of new clothes makes me twitch?”

  “You need a better poker face,” Isabelle said.

  When Holt insisted Lola come along on the shopping trip so she didn’t have to go in every store with her, Isabelle didn’t argue. However, when Lola insisted Jose accompany them, Holt took issue. She argued he wasn’t trained, and despite his good intentions, would be a liability to her and one more person to protect, but Lola stood firm. If it was fashion they were after, then Jose had to go with them. Lola seemed to be making sure the bandaged side of her head was always facing Holt during the argument. Hard to argue when your friend just got shot.

  “He has to go,” Lola said, grabbing a tappet wrench from Jose’s tool belt, which he had removed in preparation for shopping, and slipping it in his back pocket. She untucked his greasy work shirt and pulled the shirt tail down to cover the wrench.

  “Now he’s armed,” she said, looking for Holt’s approval.

  Isabelle thought Holt was amused, but she didn’t let on. She linked arms with Isabelle and led her out of the office, indicating Lola and Jose should follow. As they walked out, Isabelle heard Lola whispering to Jose behind them.

  “If you use that thing to hit anyone I don’t tell you to whack, I’m going to use it on your skull, you understand?”

  “I’d like to buy you your party clothes, if you’ll let me,” Holt said. “It’s the least I can do since you’ll have to meet my mother.”

  Isabelle didn’t know how to respond to Holt’s request. It felt like a more concrete step toward a relationship than sex. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. On the other hand, having someone care enough about her to buy her a pretty dress felt nice. Who didn’t like to wear clothes someone else had bought just for you?

  “I’ll consider it if you stop teasing me about your mother and actually tell me about her.”

  Lola and Jose snorted behind them.

  “They don’t like her much,” Holt said, glaring at her friends. Holt looked like she was unsure where to begin.

  “I told you about my dad. I understand nasty parents.”

  “Well, my mother has certainly never raised a hand to me, to a dirty dish, an aversive task, you get the idea. I’m an only child and a huge disappointment. She wanted a daughter. My father wanted a son. Neither got their wish.”

  “That woman would only have been happy if you had come out of her as a china doll,” Jose said. He didn’t seem to try to hide his disgust.

  “And that’s enough for the moment. Let’s go shopping.” Holt ushered them all out the door.

  When they got to the mall, Jose and Lola entertained themselves for the first twenty minutes picking out evening gowns for her that would make Holt’s mother happy. It gave Isabelle quite a bit of insight into the woman who, at the very least, gave birth to Holt, and she couldn’t wait to meet her. However, she could see that Lola and Jose’s teasing was starting to annoy Holt. She understood. She could call her father every name in the book, but she still cringed a little when other people joined in.

  “Are you two knuckleheads interested in finding me something that doesn’t make me look like I grew up in the Hamptons getting my hiney wiped with hundred dollar bills?”

  “My mother isn’t going to leave you alone,” Holt said. “She’s been harassing me about bringing a date to this gala for years. In the interest of full disclosure.”

  Isabelle figured she could handle it. Holt’s mother sounded like a stereotypical wealthy woman. She dealt with rich people every day at work. She did wonder just how much money Holt came from though. On the scale of evening gowns, Lola and Jose had been picking out some styles favored by the super rich.

  It turned out when Lola and Jose focused, they were the dynamic duo of shopping. Isabelle forgot about the craziness of her life for a while as she slipped in and out of fancy clothes, pranced out of the dressing room, and struck her best pose, soaking in Holt’s admiring looks. It felt so normal and domestic and nice. Her entourage was a little abnormal, but with the way her life had been the last few weeks, even that seemed comfortable and perfect.

  Once the gala clothes, and a few others that J
ose and Lola insisted Isabelle couldn’t live without, were purchased, they returned to Holt’s lair.

  “You didn’t have to pay for all that,” Isabelle said. Holt had asked again so earnestly if she could pay that Isabelle had caved. She didn’t know how she felt about being treated to fancy clothes by Holt. For so many years, she had prided herself on her financial independence, and now she was holding shopping bags of items she realistically couldn’t have afforded. It made her feel very well cared for and also a little cheap. She wasn’t sure she should have agreed so easily, but Lola and Jose had been there and she didn’t want to argue with Holt in front of everyone.

  “Consider it an apology for not protecting you better. For not yet catching this bastard.”

  Isabelle could hear the guilt in Holt’s voice and see it in her eyes. Isabelle liked to jokingly imbue Holt with the same superhero morals that she thought only existed in the pages of the comic books Holt said she liked so much. Apparently, Holt actually thought like Captain America.

  “Holt Lasher, we need to talk, right now.” Isabelle grabbed Holt by her shirt front and dragged her to her office. She pushed Holt gently into her desk chair.

  “Holt, when comic book writers imagine their protagonists, they couldn’t imagine anything quite as remarkable as you. Your honor, courage, morals are impeccable and noble. It’s one of the things I love about you, but it doesn’t leave much room for me to be your equal. Don’t buy me clothes because you haven’t protected me well enough. First, that’s ridiculous, but more importantly, that’s not a relationship. If we’re going to have one of those, you’re going to have to come up with other reasons to treat me well.”

  When Holt began to protest, Isabelle kissed her quiet, and continued. “Not yet, Holt. I don’t want you to buy me things out of guilt. I can’t be someone you think always needs protecting and be your partner. Some women may be okay with both roles, but I’m not. If you want to buy me things, do it because you are wildly, madly in love with me and can’t stand for a second that I don’t own whatever it is. I can’t go through life as a woman incapable of influencing her own life, and you deserve better than someone who can.”

  Holt stood and moved into Isabelle’s personal space. She cupped her hands around Isabelle’s lower back and pulled her in close. “I want to be, you know.”

  “You want to be what?” It was hard not to want Holt to be her superhuman savior when she was this deliciously close.

  “Madly and wildly in love with you. I want to let myself just let go and see just how wild you make me, but I’ve got to be honest, you terrify the hell out of me. I would rather run through a brick wall than lose you, but I’d also prefer that brick wall than falling for you and having you say you’re not interested. And I’m worried about how I feel, and about losing you, and for someone who doesn’t deal with emotions regularly, that’s quite a combo. I’m a little thickheaded sometimes because I’ve never had to share this part of myself, and no case has ever meant this much.”

  “You know it’s not you, right? If you were a lawyer, we’d probably already be married,” Isabelle said, realizing for the first time how true that was. Holt was wonderful, but separating Holt from the world she lived in was impossible. It was everything that came with Holt that Isabelle was hesitant about.

  “If I were a lawyer, I wouldn’t be me,” Holt said. “I know it’s always been my job, but despite all evidence to the contrary, my job is usually not that exciting. But it does come with me. I’ve thought of going back to school. I could maybe see if I’m good at something else―”

  “Holt Lasher, don’t you dare,” Isabelle said. “You are not giving up who you are for me. That’s not okay.” Despite her quick reaction, Isabelle really wanted Holt to become a marine biologist, or a pharmacist, or join Jose in his shop.

  “Why not? I’m asking you to do that for me. I’m asking you to leave what is comfortable and safe and return to a life of stress and danger on the off chance this might work out. How is that different?”

  Isabelle felt like she was standing in a stream of pure electricity. Her stomach was jumpy and her skin tingly. She didn’t know what this conversation meant. Were they breaking up? Could you break up before you were together? Were they laying a foundation? Was it all supposed to be so hard?

  “I don’t think this is something we can solve right now,” Holt said. “At least I can’t. It’s probably not the best time to be making major decisions like this anyway. We have a little added stress, and I don’t think clearly when that’s the case, but I’m glad we’re talking. I care about you so much. You are more beautiful to me every time I see you, and never more than when you were just yelling at me for being a sexist pig.”

  “Holt, please don’t think I don’t care about you. I can’t imagine you not in my life right now. I’m just―” Isabelle was cut off by a kiss from Holt.

  “Everything I need right now is in how you make me feel and how you smile with your whole face when I walk in a room,” Holt said. “As fair warning, I’ve been on my own a long time. You’ll probably need to have a few more of these chats with me until I’m properly molded, so you might want to reserve all praise and adulation until you see the final product. We have plenty of time to mull over our feelings and figure out what we want from each other. Why don’t you and Max go chase a bad guy through the exciting world of gas bubbles, and when you need someone to kick in a door, just holler. I’ll be polishing my boots.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After three days of compiling everything they could on Decker Pence, Max and Isabelle found the break they had been searching for. After an initial search of real estate in Rhode Island and the rest of New England turned up only two buildings owned by him, they found a listing owned by his wife. The purchase price was identical to one of the bubble entries and had been bought in the past year. The building was a vacation house in Narragansett, a small beach community in the southern part of the state.

  Holt looked thrilled with the news. She’d been pacing the office like a caged tiger, making everyone else irritable too. Their nightly love making at Holt’s house had a razor sharp edge of anger and frustration. They had reneged on their decision to not sleep together again almost immediately, but the longer the chase continued, the happier Isabelle was that they had. Aside from providing them with a way of connecting with each other and feeling safe at the end of the day, it seemed to be the only time Holt thought about something other than work.

  “Can you check the properties in Colorado? I have a feeling one of those bubbles will match wherever it is Pence has holed up.”

  Max searched public records of housing sales in Colorado, and thirty minutes later pulled up seven listings purchased for prices that exactly matched one of the bubble entries. Holt looked over the list, four in Denver, one in Aspen, one in Boulder, and one in Cheyenne Wells, near the eastern border Colorado shares with Kansas.

  Even seven seemed like an impossibly large number to Isabelle. She couldn’t see a way they could know for sure one of these belonged to Decker.

  “That’s the one,” Holt said. “The only one not in the mountains.”

  “Why would anyone go to Colorado and not stay in the mountains?” Max asked. “What’s in Cheyenne Wells?”

  “No clue,” Holt said. “I’m sure you’ll let me know soon, but that’s where he is. He mentioned the house wasn’t in the ski areas when I spoke to him.”

  “Just when did you speak to him?” Isabelle asked, suddenly feeling unsteady. The hunt was thrilling and also terrifying. The spreadsheet had always been a nagging annoyance, but now, as they slowly started to unlock the puzzle, the whole situation seemed far less theoretical. A client she had known for years was buying properties she had no idea about, and in all likelihood had been terrorizing her off and on for months. She was frustrated with the steady diet of helplessness and fear.

  “I dropped by his office. I needed to see if he’s our guy, and I needed him to know I’m watching him.�
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  Holt looked so gallant and steady, Isabelle wanted to drag her back home and lose a month in Holt’s bed. How much easier would it be if she had fallen for Jose? The thought was so ridiculous it made her smile.

  “Holt?”

  “Yes, love?” Holt replied, still staring at Max’s computer screen.

  Isabelle noticed how quickly a few heads turned at Holt’s endearment, but she didn’t care who heard. Holt had just publically called her love. She hadn’t expected it to feel so wonderful. Remarkably, Holt didn’t seem to have noticed. That felt nice too, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Her own jumbled feelings for Holt had to wait, as something more pressing had just occurred to her.

  “Even if Decker Pence is the guy after me, how do we get him? Can you arrest him? What can we prove?”

  Everyone shifted uncomfortably, and the tension in the office rose perceptively.

  “It’s possible his simply knowing that we know what we know will be enough to keep him away,” Holt said. “Although I’m not really comfortable with that kind of stalemate.”

  “Or you need him to come after me again,” Isabelle said. “You need me as bait.”

  Holt looked like she could vomit.

  Isabelle laughed. It felt like a strange reaction, but the expression on Holt’s face was funny. As a child, she had reacted to some of her father’s more violent moments with laughter too. It seemed to be an extreme coping mechanism.

  “Sorry. It’s a stress response,” Isabelle said.

  “With all due respect, Isabelle,” Moose said. “I don’t know that you would be very attractive bait anyway.”

  “Moose, leave it,” Holt said.

  “You don’t think she can handle all this, H?” Moose asked, looking first at Holt, then directly at Isabelle. “Isabelle, you seem like the kind of woman who wants to be in charge of her own fate. If I’m wrong, then I suggest you wait in Holt’s office because your boy Decker, if he’s the one, is a bad SOB. I know Holt doesn’t want to scare you, but I’m thinking not knowing is worse.”