Flirting with Disaster (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 2)

He met her gaze again and set his jaw. “I thought you might have needed help. And I was right.”

“How were you right? I didn’t need any help. I was fine until you called the FBI.”

“I didn’t call them. When I finally realized who you were, I checked the federal file on your dad. The account was flagged. Agent Gates called me a few minutes later. I denied having seen you or your father. Told him I was only conducting some routine research on federal fugitives. He didn’t believe it.”

“Agent Gates?” She frowned. That name sounded familiar.

“Do you know him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. There were a lot of people involved in my father’s case. A lot of bad people. And you’ve led them to my door.”

“What happened?” he asked.

She shook her head. It was hopeless. There’d never been anything terrible enough to put a stop to any of it. There’d been late-night visits and veiled threats and anything she’d told a federal investigator had gotten to all of her father’s associates within hours.

Once her father had vanished, the visits had increased, the cops constantly asking if her father had left anything or asked her to hide anything or if she’d seen him leaving with a package. Some of them had been the good guys, maybe. Some of them hadn’t. And the only one her father had warned her about had been the one she’d refused to believe was involved. She’d needed him not to be.

“Why did you run, Isabelle?”

“Because I was afraid I’d end up dead if I didn’t.”

“Someone threatened you?”

She laughed again, an ugly sound. “No one out and out said they would kill me, but there was a lot of ‘If you don’t help us, there’s nothing we can do to protect you.’ And that was true. My own father didn’t protect me. He left. So did my fiancé. I ran because I was on my own, and I didn’t know any other way to save myself.”

“Why were they threatening you?”

“At first they wanted to know where my father was. Everyone wanted to know.”

“Were you helping him?”

She shrugged. “Barely. He was moving place to place, asking for money. I obliged a few times in those first weeks and then told him to fuck off. I have no idea where he went after that. Out of the country, I assume. You want to arrest me now for aiding and abetting?”

“No,” he said simply, and then he watched, waiting for her to continue.

“That’s all there is to it, Marshal. That’s the worst I did. When I wouldn’t give up my father, it was all about evidence. The FBI, the police department, the district attorneys. They all wanted to know if he’d left anything or taken anything. The house was ransacked one night. The threats started in earnest. I left.”

“And was there any evidence?”

She looked him dead in the eyes and lied like she had a hundred times before. He was one of them now. It made no difference. “No.”

Tom blew out a long breath and then pulled out his phone. “Gates gave me an hour,” he muttered as he typed a text. “Mary will have to take care of the team.”

“What? An hour for what?”

He sent the message and glanced up. “We’ve got an hour before he takes you in.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m not going with him. I’ll run.”

“Isabelle. I’m a US marshal. You’re not going anywhere.”

“You don’t understand. He’ll take me back to Chicago. I won’t be safe.”

“It’s been a long time. The people who were after you—”

“You think it’s safe now?” She stood and started for her bedroom. “He flew all the way out here after you told him I wasn’t here! Why is he so invested?”

Tom was right on her heels. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.”