Cory dropped to his knees beside her. Her face was white, eyes wide with panic he'd never seen before. Not when her car exploded. Not when the FBI all but accused her of terrorism. This was what broke Isabella Reyes—the threat of losing her daughter.
"Hey. Look at me." He kept his voice calm, steady. "Izzy, look at me."
She raised tear-filled eyes to his. The sight hit him like a punch to the gut.
"No judge is taking Chantal," he said firmly. "You're a good mother."
"My mechanic’s license is suspended." The words came out ragged. " I'm under federal investigation. What judge?—"
"You're a victim of attempted murder," Cory interrupted. "You're protecting your child from a credible threat. Any reasonable judge will see that."
"You don't know Andrew." She wiped at her eyes with shaking hands. "He's charming when he wants to be. Manipulative. He'll paint me as unstable, dangerous?—"
"Then we'll paint him as an absent father who abandoned his family." Cory helped her to her feet, keeping a steadying hand on her elbow.
They climbed the stairs slowly, Izzy still unsteady. Cory's mind was already working, turning over possibilities.
"The timing bothers me," he said as they reached the workroom.
"What?" She sank into a chair, exhaustion written in every line.
"Andrew shows up right when the sabotage starts. Says he's been in town for days but only files papers now?"
She looked up, a spark of interest breaking through the despair. "You think it's connected?"
"His clothes are expensive. Designer labels." Cory pulled up a chair across from her. "Where's a failed pilot getting that kind of money?"
"He said he had a new job..."
"That pays enough for Florida lawyers and Lexus rentals?" Cory shook his head. "Someone's bankrolling him."
"To distract me." The spark grew stronger. "To pressure me. Make me vulnerable."
"Someone who knows exactly which buttons to push." Cory leaned forward. "Who knows about Chantal, about your history with Andrew, about what would hurt you most."
"That's a short list." Izzy was sitting straighter now, warrior mode reasserting itself. "Andrew's not smart enough to plan this himself."
"No, but he's greedy enough to take money for it." Cory moved to his computer. "Let's see what we can find about his finances. New employer. Where he's staying."
"Cory?" Her voice was quiet.
He looked up to find her watching him with an expression he couldn't quite read.
"Thank you. For..." She gestured vaguely. "Not letting me fall apart."
"You're not falling apart. You're under attack from multiple directions and still standing." He held her gaze. "That's pretty impressive, Reyes."
A ghost of her usual smile appeared. "Sweet talker."
"Truth teller." He turned back to his screen. "Now let's find out who's pulling Andrew's strings."
But then he paused, turning back to her. “I’d like to help.”
“With?”
“Fighting your ex.”
“I appreciate the gesture, but unless you’ve got a plan to arrest him…”
