Page 58 of Isabelle’s Forbidden Love

Orlando heard the clacking of a keyboard through the speaker, then Hawkins spoke again.

“Damn it, yeah, there’s a reason for that. Shortly after records from that time period were digitized, there was a computer glitch, and it fried some of the records. We were able to get most of the data back, but because the paper records had already been shredded, we couldn’t restore all of the information. There must be a few hundred records in our system that don’t have corresponding photos. Sorry. Wish I could help you.”

Orlando noticed Isabelle’s disappointment, and he felt the same, but she nevertheless kept her friendly tone, when replying, “You’ve already helped tremendously. I’m sure I can find his photo a different way. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Maybe next time you’re in Ottawa or I’m in San Francisco, we’ll go out for a drink?”

“You’re on. Thanks, Billy.” She disconnected the call. “Damn it! That’s bad luck.”

Orlando motioned to the cell phone. “So that guy, Billy, is he interested in you?”

Isabelle chuckled unexpectedly. “Are you jealous?”

“No, of course not. Just asking.” But damn it, if he didn’t feel a little annoyed that this Mountie wanted to go out for a drink with Isabelle.

Isabelle shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Billy is way too old for me. He’s in his late forties.”

“Ahm, Isa, may I point out that I was turned into a vampire in 1754? That makes me way older than Billy.”

She smiled and pulled him to her. “Yeah, but he looks his age, whereas you have the healthy, young body of a thirty-something stud with endless stamina.”

He grabbed her and slid his hands to her ass. “I should be spanking you for that. I’m more than just a meatsuit to satisfy your carnal urges.” He cast her a mock-outraged look.

And damn it, if she didn’t lick her lips as if that thought excited her!

“I wish we had time for that right now, but since the Canadians don’t have a photo of LaRuson, we need to talk to Ines. The sooner the better.”

“But she’s over in Oakland.” He pointed toward the windows. “And the sun is up.”

Isabelle nodded. “That’s why I’m gonna organize a vampire-proof car for us.”

Her words jolted him. “You can’t just march into Scanguards. They’ll catch you.”

“Don’t worry. I have an idea. I won’t be anywhere near Scanguards.”

30

It was foggy and cool, and though the sun had risen over an hour earlier, it remained behind heavy clouds. Isabelle pulled the collar of her jacket up and drew the baseball cap deeper into her face. There weren’t many people on the streets of downtown San Francisco yet, but the busses were already running, which made it easier for her to get where she was going.

At first, Orlando had protested when she’d decided to leave the safety of the condo without him. But she’d convinced him that they couldn’t wait around a whole day before speaking to Ines, the housekeeper who might have information on Dennis LaRuson. Scanguards was closing in, and eventually they would run out of hiding places.

Isabelle got off the bus in the North Waterfront district of San Francisco, a neighborhood bordering Coit Tower and known for Fisherman’s Wharf and the Ghirardelli Chocolate Factory among other tourist spots. Overlooking the neighborhood, expensive houses and multi-family homes and condos dotted the hillside that had some of the steepest and narrowest streets in the city. On a clear day, the residents of this neighborhood enjoyed unobstructed views to Alcatraz Island, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the rest of the San Francisco Bay. But Isabelle wasn’t here to enjoy the views, even if they’d been visible through the fog.

Isabelle climbed the street from where the bus had stopped, turned on the next cross street, then turned again a few more times, until she reached a three-story building. She pressed the doorbell for the bottom flat and waited. Nothing happened. She let another thirty seconds pass, then pressed the doorbell again. This time, a crackling on the intercom followed.

“Who the f—?”

“Lydia, it’s me, Isa. Are you alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Buzz me in.”

The buzzer sounded, and Isabelle entered the foyer of the 3-unit building. This was the top level of the building. The other two units lay farther down. She headed for the steps leading downstairs. Lydia’s flat was located on the lowest level of the building, and by the time Isabelle reached the door to her apartment, Lydia stood there waiting for her, dressed in a red Kimono robe.

“Sorry to wake you,” Isabelle said, and Lydia stepped aside, so she could enter the flat.

“What’s going on?” Lydia closed the door. “Everybody is looking for you.”