Page 18 of Unraveling an Enigma
Turning my gaze, I see the grinning face of Hugo.
“I’m trying to fix some wrongs I’ve created.”
Even though my voice is barely a whisper, Hugo nods in understanding. There is a bus that leaves every hour to Hopeton. With all the stops in between, it will take me over two hours to get there, but I have to do this. I have to make things right between Harlow and Cormack. I hate the idea that their still blossoming relationship is suffering from my dishonesty.
Cocking my eyebrow, my eyes drift over the shiny red muscle car Hugo is sitting in. It’s candy apple red in color with two black stripes down each side. The tires are nearly as wide as they are tall. When Hugo notices my appreciative glance, he revs the engine, startling a little baby in a stroller waiting with his mother for the bus.
“A little different from your usual ride,” I jest, returning my gaze to Hugo after the mother settles the baby’s wails.
“This is my baby.” Hugo’s tone indicates to his fascination with his car. “A fully rebuilt 1969 Chevelle.” He beams with pride as I smile and shake my head.
Boys and their toys.
“Get in; I’ll give you a lift,” he offers, his tone friendly.
“I’m going to Hope. . .”
“I know where you are going, Izzy; get in,” he interrupts with his brow arched high into the air.
Grinning, I dash around Hugo’s gleaming muscle car and jump into the passenger seat. After throwing my jacket and satchel into the back seat, I peer at Hugo’sprofile. His gaze remains focused on the road, but I catch his eyes shifting to the side occasionally to gawk at me from the corner of his eye.
Hugo is dressed differently than he usually dresses. I’ve become accustomed to seeing him in black suits with white dress shirts underneath. He never wore a tie or vest like Isaac, but he always looked professional. Today, he wears a pair of dark denim jeans and a long-sleeve shirt pulled up at the sleeves, showcasing the vast collection of tattoos on his arms I was unaware of.
“Day off?” I ask with a suspicious squint of my eyes.
Hugo’s boisterous chuckle echoes over the rumble of his car’s engine. “Something like that.”
His gaze turns from the road to roam over my body. I’m wearing my standard boring office attire, which today consists of black skinny-leg trousers and a long-sleeve cream silk blouse. “What about you? I haven’t seen you leave the office this time of the day for the past six months,” he queries.
Pursing my lips, I turn my gaze back out the window. “I’ve been suspended without pay,” I murmur with a huff of disbelief.
Even if the investigation by the Internal Affairs Department comes up with no factual findings, my FBI file will be forever smeared by controversy. Sexually cavorting with a target you're investigating wasn’t recommended during my training. My FBI career will never come back from the Internal Affairs inquiry.
“I'd like to say I’m surprised by your suspension, but I’m not,” Hugo says bluntly. My guarded eyes snap to his. “If you are going to live a double life, you need to be a little more cautious, Izzy,” he suggests.
My eyes dart between his to request further elaboration.
“My sister’s file was sealed so tightly shut, not even Isaac’s detective friend Ryan could gain access to it, but you, a supposed secretary in legal aid, found out what happened to her,” he murmurs.
Oh.
“That was your second mistake.”
My brows tug together so close, I’m sure I’ve created a new wrinkle in my forehead.
“The first was the day you followed Isaac into a restaurant when he was attending a morning meeting with Delilah Winterbottom. I overheard the phone call you made. You didn’t check your surroundings for potential conflicts before making the call.”
It isn’t a legitimate excuse, but I was fresh out of the academy and was undertaking my very first surveillance operation. “So you have known all along I’m an FBI agent?” I mumble with my heart erratically pounding in my chest.
A smile tugs Hugo’s lips high as he nods.
“Then why didn’t you say something to Isaac, why didn’t you rat me out?” I ask.
“Because I knew once you learned who Isaac really was, you would also protect him.”
“So you're protecting Isaac; you are his bodyguard?” My words are rushed.
Hugo’s shoulders lift into a shrug before he apprehensively nods. “Isaac doesn’t need a bodyguard, though. I’m more here to protect the people he cares about,” he explains, his gaze roaming over my face.
