Cory shook his head. “I’ve got someone who can help. My sister is an attorney. But better than that, she teaches family law at Cornell. She hardly practices anymore, but do you mind if I run your case by her?”
Izzy blinked hard. “Mind? No. Not at all. If you think she’s got the time….”
“As soon as I explain the circumstances, she’ll make the time. Trust me.”
Izzy seemed to have trouble swallowing, but when she lifted her head, her eyes shone. “Okay.”
“Okay.” His heart lifted. If he could at least find a way to lift this burden from her shoulders, the rest would take care of itself.
They dove into research with renewed energy. Andrew's finances, his connections, his timeline. But Cory couldn't shake the image of Izzy broken against the wall, couldn't forget the feel of her hand gripping his shirt like a lifeline.
Someone was playing a deep game here. The sabotage was bad enough, but using a woman's child against her? That was personal. Cruel.
Whoever was behind this had just made a serious mistake. They'd shown their hand, revealed they knew Izzy's weaknesses intimately.
Which meant they were either very smart or very stupid.
Cory was betting on stupid. Because smart people didn't make enemies of women like Isabella Reyes.
And they definitely didn't make enemies of the cops who'd sworn to protect them.
His phone buzzed. Graceline, with an update on city business. He answered, but his eyes stayed on Izzy as she worked, color returning to her cheeks, determination replacing despair.
As his assistant updated him on a minor city council issue, Cory found himself offering up a silent prayer. The words from Proverbs came unbidden:The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.
Lord, be her stronghold. Help me protect her and Chantal. Give us wisdom to see through the deception and strength to stand against those who would harm them. And help me remember that Your justice is perfect, even when man's justice fails.
He ended the call with Graceline, watching Izzy work with fierce concentration. She might not share his faith—not yet—but that didn't mean he couldn't cover her in prayer.
And call his sister.
21
Izzy stabbedat her chicken stir-fry with more force than necessary, the vegetables surrendering under her assault. Across Knight Tactical's kitchen island, Cory worked through his portion, probably counting his chews or whatever it was that kept him so perfectly regulated.
Three days of forced proximity had taught her things she didn't need to know. Like how he took his coffee black. Or how he always checked the perimeter at exactly 20:00, moving counterclockwise through the building. Or how his hair stuck up on the left side when he first woke up, before he tamed it into regulation submission.
Stop cataloging his habits, Reyes. Focus on the case.
Cory groaned, rubbing his face. “It would be good if we could get a bead on that mechanic, Houzer. He knows something.”
"Tell that to those FBI goons."
Cory set down his fork. "They cleared him. No connection to MedFlight, clean employment record, no unusual financial activity."
"Since when has 'cleared by the FBI' meant innocent?" She pushed her plate away, appetite gone. "They also think I bombed my own car."
"They're exploring all angles." But his defense of federal procedure sounded halfhearted. Even Chief By-The-Book was getting frustrated with the investigation's pace.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. She grabbed it eagerly—any distraction from their circular conversations and the way Cory's presence filled every corner of the kitchen.
Kenji: Mission Update: Axel just wrestled a caribou. The caribou won.
Izzy snorted.
Axel: It was an ELK and it surprised me.
Kenji: Sure buddy. Maya got video.
