"Different. Fun, even." His expression went from relaxed to mortified in record time.
"Fun?" Izzy couldn't help herself. "Someone trying to blow me up is fun? Wow, Fraser, you really need to get out more."
"That's not what I—" He dragged a hand through his hair, messing up its perfect regulation style. "I meant the investigation. Working together. Not the attempted murder part."
"Smooth recovery." But she took pity on him. "Speaking of the investigation, you can't actually work it. Not officially. Can't use city resources on an FBI case."
"I know." He pulled out his phone, scrolled to something. "I already arranged personal leave. Graceline's handling the day-to-day remotely. She's been wanting more responsibility anyway."
He'd taken vacation time. To protect her.
Izzy didn't know what to do with that information, so she fled to safer ground.
"Speaking of Graceline, I should tell my team about..." She gestured vaguely. "All this."
Her phone buzzed with perfect timing.
Zara: Heard about the explosion. You okay??? Need backup?
She typed back quickly.
No body parts missing. Just my beautiful ride. Have backup. All good.
Her phone rang immediately. Not Zara—Ronan. And from the sharp breath before he spoke, he was mad.
"You got BLOWN UP and didn't call us?"
"I didn't get blown up. My vehicle got blown up."
"Don’t even?—"
"I'm fine, Ronan. Really. Cory Fraser was there, got me clear in time." She kept her voice light, but guilt twisted in her stomach.
"Fraser’s good people." Ronan's tone shifted, evaluating.
“He's actually been... helpful." She caught Cory's raised eyebrow and turned away. "I'm staying at headquarters. He's providing security."
"Just him?"
"It's enough."
Silence. Then: "You sure about this, Iz? We can be back in?—"
"No." The word came out sharper than intended. "You have a job to do. Clients to protect. I've got this handled."
"If you need us?—"
"I'll call. Promise."
Another pause. "Watch your six, Reyes."
"Always do."
She hung up to find Cory setting two mugs on the counter. Coffee. When had he made coffee?
"Your team?" he asked, sliding one mug toward her.
"Mother hens, all of them." She added sugar, noticed he drank his black. Of course he did. "They wanted to abandon the Alaska job."
