and wear nondescript clothing as they’d left the Safeguard offices. They’d driven away in separate cars out to some ridiculous distance away from the city before changing vehicles to return together. It was far greater lengths than he’d anticipated and even Officers Weaver and Austin had been disgruntled about all the driving. “Hotel lobby last night had security cameras.” She shrugged. “Puts us in the same place at the same time. Plus you made inquiries about me. Safeguard won’t answer any queries about whether you contracted with us but a smart person could make logical connections. Then they’d just have to look for me to find you.” Her reasoning was sound. In fact, she delivered it so simply, he kicked himself for not thinking of it himself. He needed to be smarter if he was going to be responsible not only for his safety, but for that of others in the future. “I’m changing up appearances each time I leave but I’m going to keep it to a minimum if possible.” She nudged her duffel with her toe. “I’ve got enough changes of clothes to head out about once a day to pick up whatever we need to supplement the supplies but if we absolutely had to, we’ve got enough here to make it through the next couple of days without actually going outside.” “I see.” He sighed. “I suppose I’m not to go out at all.” “You are not to even look out the window.” She sat up straighter in the chair. “Actually, don’t go within three feet of any window. Stay far enough back not to throw a shadow when it gets dark enough to have to turn the lights on.” “Do you get attacked through windows very often?” He tossed the question out there in a flippant tone. Her expression went blank. She rubbed the toe of one boot along the back of her opposite calf. “Shot. Sniper took aim at shadows in an apartment through a glass window. Caught the team by surprise.” Not what he’d been expecting. The deputy marshal and police officers had given him example scenarios. They’d lectured him on what to do in the eventuality of certain situations. All of it had been theoretical. Here sat a woman warning him from personal experience. And she hadn’t insisted on showing the scars she had to prove it. Both sank in and made an impression. He tried his drinking chocolate. The chocolate flowed over his tongue with a sweet start easing into an almost red wine sort of fullness before finishing smooth. “You were ri—” Car tires screeched somewhere outside and metal crunched with some sort of heavy impact. Isabelle was out of her chair and at his side in an instant, pressing down on his shoulders with one hand. “Get down. Now. Into the other room, get into the bathroom. Stay low.” She herded him, a gun in hand. He’d never seen her retrieve it. She was just suddenly armed. In a rush, she had him in the bathroom crouching in the bathtub as she remained low at the doorway. A bundle hit him in the chest and he barely caught it before it fell to the ground. As he unfolded it he realized it was a vest. “Get that on and put your shirt back on over it.” He rushed to comply, his fingers suddenly clumsy with his shirt buttons. His own breath sounded harsh in his ears. Isabelle wasn’t watching him. From her position, she was calm and seemingly motionless. Waiting with an air of readiness. Her demeanor helped him regain his own balance and he steadied. “Scott here.” She spoke softly, almost inaudibly. “Decker, spot report.” * * * “What’s going on? What’s happening?” Kyle kept his voice low, his questions short. The urgency came across as demands for answers but she heard the tension, the fear there. Couldn’t blame the man. He was used to getting immediate responses from the people around him. Being in control. Most people didn’t want to die and he was pretty damned sure someone was trying to kill him. Depending on what Decker had to say, Kyle might be right too. “Shots