Page 45 of Isabelle’s Forbidden Love

“Yep. Let’s call Samson.”

While Benjamin talked to Samson, Cooper hopped into the Hummer. The car was impressive. Big as a tank, robust. And perfect for a big guy like Orlando.

Benjamin put his phone back in his pocket. “Samson wants us to head back to HQ. He’ll drive back with Gabriel and the others. We’re supposed to report to Thomas to help him comb through any CCTV footage of BART and any traffic cams from here into the city to see where Orlando went. According to Thomas, he never got on that plane he bought a ticket for.”

“All right,” Cooper said and handed Benjamin the key for the van. “We’re not leaving the Hummer here. I’ll drive it back to HQ.”

“Why you?”

“Because I called dibs.”

Reluctantly, Benjamin handed him the key to the Hummer, before he got into the van and drove off.

Cooper started the Hummer, and backed out of the parking spot. The car definitely handled differently than a regular SUV. He headed for the self-service exit and looked for the parking ticket Orlando had to have pulled on his way in. It wasn’t in the cup holder, where Cooper would have left it. Maybe Orlando had put it into the glove box?

Cooper leaned over and opened the glove box, rummaging through it when an envelope and a white notecard fell out. He reached for it to put it back, when he saw the writing on it. He looked closer.

Now I’ll take from you what’s most precious to you, just like you did to me.

Was this a note that Orlando had received, or one he’d intended to send to somebody? Cooper looked at the envelope and noticed that it had been ripped open, which meant it had been sealed previously. Orlando had received the note from somebody. It wasn’t signed.

“If that doesn’t look like revenge to me,” Cooper murmured to himself.

But what he would do with this information, and whether it would lead anywhere, he didn’t know yet. Right now, Samson didn’t seem to be very receptive to hearing arguments that didn’t align with his opinion. But he didn’t need to bring this to Samson’s attention right away. Maybe somebody else could help him look into what this note meant.

24

Isabelle drove into the above-ground public parking structure just off the Embarcadero and headed to one of the upper floors in search of a parking spot. When she found an empty spot, she pulled in and stopped the car. She took her handbag and her key and got out. She knew that her car had a built-in GPS that fed the car’s location directly to Scanguards. She could disable it, but she didn’t have to. It didn’t matter if Scanguards found the car, because she would be long gone.

After locking her Thunderbird, she took the elevator to the first floor, left the parking garage and walked toward Market Street, one of the main arteries in downtown San Francisco. From here, she not only had an extensive bus system available to her, but also the MUNI, San Francisco’s underground and streetcar system, as well as BART, the train system that connected San Francisco with cities on the East Bay and the peninsula. It reached as far south as the San Francisco airport.

Isabelle set her cell phone to silent, but didn’t switch it off, and walked down the stairs into the underground station. It was busy there, which was exactly what she had hoped for. She looked up at the display to see which trains were due to enter and leave the station next. She swiped her pass and took the escalators down to the platforms. On the outbound platform, people stood shoulder to shoulder, some in business-casual clothing returning from an early dinner or a late night at the office, others with shopping bags heading home after a long day.

Isabelle looked for a suitable target and found an Asian woman who had her hands full. Her handbag was slung across her torso, and she carried two shopping bags that looked heavy. Isabelle moved closer to her, while she listened to the canned voice from the loudspeakers announcing an outbound N-Judah train approaching the station.

In anticipation, the crowd moved closer to the edge of the platform, and Isabelle stayed as close as possible to her intended target. A whoosh of air indicated the arrival of the train just as its lights became visible in the tunnel. The train slowed, and Isabelle saw that it was already half full. It only played into her plan. The more people that were on the train, the better for her.

The doors opened, and only a handful of people exited. The people waiting on the platform barely made space for them, and were already pushing into the train, rushing to the few remaining seats. The rest of them had to contend themselves with standing room only, clutching the handrails for support. Isabelle squeezed in right behind the woman with the two shopping bags, glad that the woman remained close to the doors. Moments later, the doors closed and the train began to move.

The Asian woman hadn’t had a chance to set down her shopping bags yet, and the jolt of the train heading out of the station made her sway backward, bumping into Isabelle, who immediately reached out and braced the woman with one hand, while she dropped her cell phone into the woman’s coat pocket with the other.

“Oh!” The woman gasped and looked over her shoulder. “Pardon me. Sorry.”

Isabelle smiled. “No worries.”

The woman turned back, and this time she set down one shopping bag, straddling it with her legs, while she reached for a bar to hold onto.

Isabelle’s work was done. The train was already approaching the next station. She turned toward the door, snatched a baseball cap from her jacket pocket and put it on. As the train entered the next station, she quickly slipped out of her jacket and folded it up as small as she could. Finally, the train came to a stop, and Isabelle made sure that the baseball cap was pulled deep into her face. Then she pulled the hoodie she wore underneath her jacket over the baseball cap, making sure her hair didn’t show. She’d bought both the hoodie and the baseball cap at one of the tourist shops downtown earlier.

When the doors of the train opened, Isabelle allowed a couple of people to push past her to exit, before she followed them, keeping her face down. She knew there were several cameras in each Muni station, and she didn’t want any of them to get a close look at her. The two guys she followed were a little taller than her, and gave her enough cover so she could dump her rolled-up jacket before she reached the escalators.

Still keeping her eyes to the ground, she rode up to the main level of the station. At Sansome Station it was quieter, which made it even more important to keep close to the two guys in front of her. Once on street level, Isabelle quickly glanced around. Nobody was following her. She was in the clear.

Keeping her eyes and ears open, Isabelle walked deeper into the financial district, careful to take a route that didn’t lead her past the Black Velvet bar, which was a favorite hangout of Scanguards employees. When she finally saw the building where Grayson’s loft was located, she let out a sigh of relief. She lifted her eyes to look up at the windows on the top floor. It was dark behind them.

When she reached the building, she took the key out of her large handbag and noticed that she still had the Wayne Hong file in it. Isabelle unlocked the main entrance, then took the stairs. On the second floor, she nearly stumbled over a small package, which lay in front of the only condo on this floor. It appeared that Grayson’s neighbor was out of town again. To her knowledge, he never stayed in San Francisco over the weekend. Grayson had told her months earlier, when Isabelle had been hanging out with him and chastised him about turning up the music to its loudest level well after midnight. She’d expected the downstairs neighbor to complain. But alas, he wasn’t in. Just like tonight. She continued to the third floor. Here too, it was quiet.

Isabelle inserted the key in the lock and opened the door inwards. Not switching on any lights, she entered and closed the door behind her, before dropping her bag and the key on the small sideboard next to the door, and taking off the baseball cap.