Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard 14)

“Michael’s also going.”

Oh, hell no, as Dylan would say. “It sounds fun, but I’ve already made plans.” Her voice was strained, and she was sure he picked up on it. “Thanks for asking.”

She turned and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom before Noah could insist she tell him what was bothering her. She would have to explain that Michael had broken up with her. Noah would be surprised, of course, and would say that he didn’t know she and Michael were together. She would then respond, neither did she. How wacky was that?

A few minutes later she was sprawled out on the bed replaying the ludicrous conversation she’d had with Michael when it occurred to her that she was actually hiding in her bedroom until he left to go sailing.

“Enough already,” she muttered. She wasn’t going to hide from anyone.

Her cell phone rang then. It was Detective Samuel, who had a few questions about the man she’d seen on the street corner.

When she explained that she had glimpsed at the man for only a second, Samuel asked, “And you saw him again last night at the hotel?”

“I couldn’t swear it was him,” she admitted. “I saw a man with red hair coming toward me. The lobby was crowded but he seemed to be staring straight at me. Maybe I imagined him to be the same man.”

“We’ve studied the hotel security tapes. We did see the man you describe, but he turned and left the hotel. He appeared to be in a hurry.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve complicated things.”

Samuel was sympathetic. “Don’t be. This has been a traumatic experience for you. It’s important that we look into every detail that you think you remember.”

“Think I remember? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Under severe stress the mind can play tricks on us.”

Isabel didn’t disagree. Maybe she was overreacting and confusing her memories with reality.

Samuel went on to share some information about the investigation. “We’ve identified the man you shot. His name was Jacoby, and he has a criminal record a mile long. We’ve talked to the Miami police, and they’ve told us that Detective Walsh was in Boston on personal business but he mentioned something about helping a friend. We believe he was after Jacoby. We haven’t sifted out the particulars yet, but with the Miami police involved now, we’ll get to the bottom of this soon. We won’t need you any longer, at least not for the time being, but I would appreciate it if you would keep us informed of your whereabouts just in case something comes up.”

“I will,” she promised.

“I want to thank you for your cooperation and your patience, Isabel,” he said. “You’re a very brave young lady.”

She didn’t agree. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am,” he insisted. “I’ll let Michael know what we discussed.”

“Actually, Michael won’t be available. He isn’t my attorney any longer. His brother Nick will be handling any legal issues from now on.” She added, “He lives in Boston.”

She hoped Nick was agreeable. She knew he was an attorney, and if he declined, she would ask Theo. Assuming she needed an attorney at all.

She had just ended the call when another came in. She didn’t recognize the number but decided to answer anyway.

“Is this Isabel MacKenna?” There was something oddly familiar about the man’s deep, baritone voice.

“Yes,” she answered. “And who is this?”

“My name is Xavier O’Dell. I’m hoping you’re familiar with my work and that you like it.”

“Xavier... Did you say...”

She heard a long drawn-out sigh over the phone, and then he said, “I’m better known by my initials, XO.”

She nearly dropped the phone. Even though she recognized the voice now, she couldn’t believe it was really him. She burst into laughter. “No, you’re not XO.”

Did he honestly think she would believe the man she was talking to was XO, the most famous singer in the United States... perhaps even the world? And the hottest?

“Isabel?”