A tense silence enveloped the party like a pall. Isabella felt her whole body turn into a numb block of ice that she didn't even notice her sister grasp her hand tightly with her own. All that she could focus on was Detective Colton's words.
The brake lines had been cut.
Nathan swallowed harshly, an action that seemed to pain him. A light sheen of sweat coated his paled brow, and his voice trembled when he asked, "H-how could that have happened?"
Ryker's hard hazel gaze focused on the older man's stunned sapphire eyes. His dark eyebrows dipped into a harsher frown. "Unfortunately, I wasn't able find out. I couldn't retrieve anything from the car's EDR."
"EDR? What's that?" Rosa asked, her voice timid as she clung to her sister's frozen frame.
"It stands for Event Data Recorder," Ryker explained, looking at her. "Normally it only records when an accident takes place, but the system your father had installed on your cars makes it record whenever someone is near the car, even when it's not running. So, I should have been able to see when someone went near the car in order to cut the lines."
"So why couldn't you?" Rosa continued to question.
For a brief moment, Ryker looked at Isabella, who seemed to have been carved into stone. She hadn't uttered a word since his revelation, and the look on her face made it appear that she would pass out at any moment. "I think you should take a seat," he suggested in his deep baritone.
His focus on the older sister caused both of her family members to look at her with concern. Rosa quickly linked her arm through Isabella's and guided her to the chair on which she had previously been seated. Isabella followed her lead in a daze, and mindlessly conformed when her father urged her to sit. Nathan then took a seat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as he gently rubbed his hand up and down her arm.
Ryker watched Isabella closely, taking note of the wide, frozen state of her eyes and the paleness of her pink lips. His frown deepened. He didn't even know her personally, but in that moment, he knew that the look on her face bothered him immensely.
"She's in shock," Rosa stated as she looked over her sister's expression before glancing around to see a nurse nearby. "Can you bring her some sugar water, please?" she called.
The nurse nodded and quickly went to fetch it. Once she had returned, she handed the glass to Rosa who then gently offered it to her sister. Isabella's eyes were still unfocused, and Rosa almost had to force her fingers to close around the cool glass. When she finally gripped it with enough strength that it wouldn't slip from her grasp, she slowly brought it to her lips, visibly shaking.
After a few sips and deep breaths that her sister instructed her to do, her gaze slowly started to focus. Her dark chocolate eyes trailed up to meet his, and she swallowed with clear embarrassment on her cheeks. "My apologies. Please, continue."
A muscle ticked in his strong jaw at how feeble her voice sounded. "Are you sure you can manage it?"
Isabella hesitated then slowly nodded, a gleam of determination igniting her once frozen dark eyes. One corner of his mouth lifted in a tiny smirk.
She was resilient; he'd give her that.
"Very well," he conceded. "Even in a terrible crash like your mother's, I should still have been able to access the data on the airbag computer. The fact that it came up blank brings me to the conclusion that someone had accessed the system and corrupted it before anyone got there."
"But . . . who would have been able to do so?"
His lips thinned into a stern expression. "Although it is usually only law enforcement and accident reconstructionists who have the tools used to link to the airbag computer, there are several other people who may have them, and I have a feeling that Mrs Walker might have seen who it was."
Nathan's eyes widened. "How do you know?"
"I spoke to the paramedics who attended the scene, and they told me that Jenny had been found lying half out of the car on her stomach, as though she had crawled out of the car. That means that she would have still been conscious after the accident. Although it is very small, there is a possibility that she saw whoever may have tampered with the car, who would more than likely have also been the one to cut the brakes. Unfortunately, I will only know for sure once she has woken up and able to be questioned."
"But . . . why would anyone have done such a thing?" Rosa eventually asked, her worrisome gaze flittering between the people surrounding her.
"That's what I would like to find out, which is why I need to ask you a few questions." He turned to Nathan, who still had a rather concerning pale complexion. "Mr Walker, if you are able to."
Nathan gestured for him to continue. Isabella looked at him, and her lips tightened when she noticed how he had appeared to have aged within the span of a few hours, the stress of the day making him appear much older than his age of forty-nine. Ryker seemed to notice it as well. He remained silent for a moment, watching him closely before finally deciding to speak.
"Very well. Can you describe how Mrs Walker was behaving this morning before she left?"
Nathan thought for a moment. "She was fine for the most part. A little lost in her thoughts, but she has always been a deep thinker. I never noticed anything out of the ordinary really, except for a message she sent."
"What message?"
Nathan retrieved his phone from his pocket and unlocked the screen. "She messaged me at around ten, asking if I was still home. I replied, asking if there something was wrong. She never answered me." He offered Ryker his phone, and the man took it, glancing at the messages on the screen. "I think that was at the time she had the accident, because she read the message but never responded, which is not like her."
Ryker nodded as he handed Nathan's phone back to him. "Were you expecting her to be home at that time?"
"No."
"The person who was driving the vehicle was your chauffer?"
"My wife's chauffer, yes."
"How long has he been under your employ?"
"About thirty years."
Ryker nodded throughout each of Nathan's answers as he pulled a phone from his pocket and began typing on it. "Can you think of anyone who you may suspect having cut the brake lines? Anyone who you may not be on the best of terms with at the moment?"
"No, not that we know of."
"No one that may have been fired recently or where a business deal went south?" He looked at Isabella when he asked that.
She shook her head. "No."
"Alright." Ryker paused. He turned back to Nathan. "Maybe the reason behind cutting the brake lines is not a recent event then. What about—"
"Let's not discuss that right now, Ryker," Nathan quickly interrupted him, his hold tightening considerably around Isabella's shoulders.
A hard look came to Ryker's face as he clenched his jaw, the muscles jutting out to give him a rather intimidating expression. Isabella looked to her father and noticed Nathan's eyes flicker to Rosa for a split second before returning Ryker's gaze. A flash of comprehension raced across the detective's sharp eyes, and he slowly nodded.
"Very well," he conceded, but he didn't look impressed. "Since it is unknown when your wife will wake up, I would like to find out when the brake lines may have been cut and try to see who did it through the security cameras of wherever she went. Do you know where she may have gone before the accident occurred?"
Nathan shook his head. "No, as far as I was aware, she was going straight to the clinic. Turns out she had a doctor's appointment here first, but I don't know where she may have gone before or after that."
"Ethan might know."
Everyone turned to look at Rosa. She quickly lowered her gaze to the floor and picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, her cheeks growing warm.
"How do you know that, Rosa?" Nathan asked.
She swallowed. "I . . . saw them speaking to each other before Mom left. She might have mentioned something to him."
"Would it be possible to speak to him?" Ryker asked.
Rosa flinched. "Um . . . I suppose."
Isabella's delicate eyebrows drew together, having a premonition on where this conversation was going.
"Do you know where he will be?" Ryker queried.
"Yes . . ."
"Good, we will leave in an hour. I need to go and question a few more people first."
Nathan glanced at his daughters before retracting his arm from around Isabella. He stood and looked at the detective. "If you don't mind, Ryker, I would like to stay with Jenny. The doctors say she should wake up soon, and I would like to be here when she does." Nathan's voice sounded tired when he spoke, and the younger man nodded as he looked him over.
"I will let you know if I find anything," he said.
Nathan left their company quietly, and only once the door to Jenny's private ward closed behind him, did Ryker finally draw his attention back to Isabella. Although she still looked a little pale, most of the colour had returned to her cheeks. He did a quick onceover, noticing that her hand didn't shake anymore as it held the empty glass.
He looked at each of them then, his expression firm. "I would like to make something very clear to the both of you. Anything that I say regarding the investigation stays between your father and yourselves. No one else is allowed to know," he warned, his gaze training on Isabella. "That includes pretty boy."
Isabella's back immediately tensed at the accusatory look in the detective's eyes, and despite the wobble in her legs, she stood to face him. "I trust him," she responded with conviction, meeting his gaze.
Ryker's eyes narrowed. He took a step forward, eliminating the small distance between them as he stared her down. "But I don't," he responded, his voice sounding like that of a rolling wave. "For the sake of this investigation, you cannot tell him anything. Do you understand me, Princess?"
The unexpected nickname sent an unusual rush of warmth throughout Isabella's entire body, and her face became an alarming shade of red when she remembered that he had taken note of the wording on her slippers. Her embarrassment caused her to lower her gaze to stare at his collarbone.
"Yes," she responded, her voice sounding annoyingly meek.
Ryker stared at her for a moment before he nodded and looked at Rosa. "We leave in an hour. Make sure you're ready."
Rosa replied with a mute nod, and Ryker turned, his long muscular legs carrying him away from them with strong, sure strides. Isabella's face still felt like a hot coal, but she refused to fan herself with her hand like an infatuated idiot, even though she couldn't tear her eyes away from the broad frame that walked away from them and eventually turned a corner.
A tense silence enveloped the sisters before Rosa eventually released a shaky breath. "He's scary."
Isabella pursed her lips, but she couldn't find herself agreeing with her sister's statement. Bossy, yes. Intimidating, maybe. But she didn't find him scary at all.
However, she didn't respond to her sister's comment and instead drew a sharp breath into her lungs. "Come on, I desperately need something sweet."
-
Rosa's heart felt like it was going to collapse in her chest from the speed of which it was beating as she gingerly made her way towards the stables with Ryker and Isabella in tow. A light sweat had broken out on her forehead, and she had clenched her jaw so tight that it began to ache. She mentally cursed her big mouth, knowing that it had thrown her right under the bus. But it was too late to change anything now.
The sweet smell of hay and shavings filled her senses when she opened the door to enter the stables, and her sapphire eyes glanced around to look for any signs of life. She could feel her sister's concerned gaze on her tense frame, but she chose to ignore it as they stepped inside.
Their footfalls echoed in the empty stable as they walked, and the beep of a microwave alerted them to someone's presence in the feed room. Rosa felt her stomach twist into an anxious knot as she forced herself to move in that direction.
She attempted to brace herself for the sight of Ethan, but even if the bracing had been made of platinum, it would have shattered as soon as she saw the familiar masculine frame taking a bottle of warmed milk out of the microwave. She froze, her feet refusing to move another step when he finally turned and their eyes connected.
The shock of seeing Rosa left Ethan stunned, and he almost dropped the bottle in his hand when he saw her standing by the door. It had been so long since he had last seen her, even though it was only just over two weeks. He was in such disbelief that she was actually standing before him that he almost uttered her name until he realised that she was being accompanied by her sister and another unknown man.
"Hello, Ethan," Isabella was the first to speak, and he nearly winced at the coldness in her usually kind voice.
His gaze immediately lowered, realization striking him that Rosa had told her sister everything that happened between them. He shouldn't have been surprised. The two women were inseparable. Of course Rosa would have told her older sister what had occurred. And Isabella, being the fiercely protective individual that she was, would not take someone hurting her beloved sister lightly.
In fact, he was surprised that she hadn't come to beat him up yet. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it.
"Miss Isabella," he returned her greeting, unable to look at Rosa.
Isabella stepped forward, slightly obscuring Ethan's peripheral view of Rosa and taking charge when it was clear that her sister couldn't say a word. "I'm sorry to keep you from your work, Ethan, but we have a serious situation that requires your immediate cooperation."
Her voice was hard, and the formal way she spoke let him know very clearly that she was angry with him. He chanced a glance at her, and her seething gaze confirmed his assumption.
She was livid.
He quickly lowered his gaze again. "Of course."
Isabella gestured to the tall man standing beside her, who was carefully watching the silent exchanges that were occurring in the room. "This is Detective Colton. My dad asked for his help in determining the cause of my mother's accident this morning."
"What?" Ethan's gaze snapped back to them, shocked by the news. "Is she alright?"
He noticed a miniscule softening in Isabella's gaze at the concern he displayed, but her stance immediately hardened once again. "Yes, she has yet to wake up, but it should be soon. Anyway, Detective Colton went to the location of the accident, and he discovered some rather alarming information."
Ethan frowned. "What was that?"
"The brake lines had been cut." The strong voice that relayed the answer made Ethan suck in a sharp breath as realization struck him.
He looked to the detective, met his analytical stare, and clenched his jaw. "I didn't do it, if that's what you're getting at. I would never do such a thing."
Ryker's hazel gaze bore into his own for a brief moment. He didn't acknowledge Ethan's statement. In fact, he continued as though he never even heard him. "I wanted to ask you if Mrs Walker mentioned to you where she may have gone before the accident this morning, since you were seen speaking to her before she left."
Ethan blinked. He briefly wondered how they would have known that, but shrugged the thought aside. His brow furrowed as he attempted to remember their conversation. "She didn't tell me where she was going, just that she was late for an appointment."
"And at what time was that?"
"We spoke at about half past eight."
"Was she acting strange or nervous at all?"
Ethan shook his head. "No. We hardly spoke. I told her I needed to speak to her about something. She asked if it could wait until this evening because she was running late for an appointment, and that was it."
Rosa, who had been mute throughout the entire conversation, frowned and slowly looked at Ethan. "What . . . did you need to speak to her about?"
Ethan looked at her, and she felt all the breath leave her lungs. Guilt flashed across his tawny gaze, and he swallowed thickly as he looked away. "I . . . wanted to speak to her about my . . . resignation."
"You're leaving?" She didn't mean for the words to come out as vulnerable as they did, and she felt unwanted tears burn the backs of her eyes. Her throat felt like it was going to close in on itself, and she did a few harsh blinks to keep the tears at bay. No. She was not going to cry. Not now. Not in front of everyone like this. Certainly not over him either!
But when his eyes slowly lifted to meet her watery gaze, his lips parted at her expression as his tawny gaze changed to a deep treacle colour. "It's for the best," he murmured, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his jeans.
Rosa's back tensed, and she pressed her lips together into a thin line to keep them from trembling as her tear-filled eyes narrowed. She drew a sharp, unsteady breath into her lungs. "Well, good luck to you then," she hissed before turning and rushing from the stable's kitchen.
Ethan watched her leave, his chest feeling as though a knife had been thrust into it and twisted with an agonizing slowness that left him breathless. He wanted—needed to run after her, but the deadly glare that Isabella had trained on him left him rooted to the spot.
She didn't say anything for a moment, merely watched him with those dark, calculating eyes of hers that appeared to be two burning coals of anger. Eventually she spoke in a low voice, "If you keep hurting my sister, then I think it's best you leave. I won't tolerate you hurting her any longer."
Ethan lowered his head, unable to answer her. He heard her leave, and he closed his eyes as anguish cascaded over him like a flooding river. The thought of Rosa crying because of him once again left him feeling gutted. He didn't mean to hurt her. He never wanted to, but it seemed that it was all he was capable of doing.
A heavy sigh left his lips as he tightened the lid on the bottle. Isabella was right: it was best if he left.
-
"So what now?" Isabella asked from beside Ryker, battling slightly to match his much longer strides.
Ryker glanced at her before looking back to the garden path that they walked along to reach his car. "Ethan said that he spoke to Mrs Walker at about half past eight. While we were at the hospital, I spoke to the doctor with whom she had her appointment. That appointment was at nine. She must've gone right there, and when she received the information that she was pregnant, may have travelled straight back home to tell your father the news. That is why she probably sent the message, asking him if he was still home. And I agree with your father—the accident must have happened before she responded to his reply."
"So what does that mean?"
"It means that I'm going back to the hospital to look at the surveillance cameras. Hopefully I can pick up something from them."
Isabella nodded and realised that they had reached his car. It was a car that had surprised her. Looking at his appearance, she expected him to drive one of those muscle cars like a Chevrolet Camaro or something along those lines. But the car was just a normal Honda, one that you would be able to tell one from the other on the street. Rosa and herself had driven back in Rosa's car, while Ryker had followed them in his own.
He seemed to notice her perplexed gaze, for he stated in a plain tone. "It's a detective's job to take statements, not make them."
Isabella glanced at him, and her cheeks flushed red. "Sorry, I didn't mean to judge."
He shrugged his broad shoulders as he moved to the driver's side. "I don't care." He opened his door and was about to take a seat when Isabella called out to him. "What?"
"Do . . . you mind if I come with you?"
He rested his impressively sized arm on the roof of the car. "Don't you have some family drama to deal with?" he asked, gesturing to the mansion standing behind them.
Isabella turned to look at the luxurious home. "She likes to be alone when she's upset," she replied with a deep sigh before facing him once more. "Can I come with you? I would like to see whatever you find and help you where I can."
A hard look came on his face. "I work alone, Princess."
She flushed at the pet name but didn't respond to it as she looked down at her attire. When they had come home, she had changed out of her mixed outfit of business blouse and pajama bottoms. Instead of her "Kiss the Princess" slippers, she had her usual black business heels back on.
She slowly looked back at him to see that his gaze had not once wavered from her. His sole attention on her made her feel a mixed pot of emotions, her face warming the longer he watched her. She bit the inside of her cheek and shyly rubbed her arm.
"Please," she almost begged as she forced her gaze to connect with his. "I need to know who is doing this to my mom."
His strong brow pulled together in thought, his hazel eyes roaming her beseeching expression. He must have seen how desperate she was, for a heavy sigh left his lips as he straightened. "Get in."
Isabella couldn't hide the relief she felt as she pulled on the door, and her jaw almost dropped when she noticed the interior of the car. While the outside looked like any other plain Honda, the interior appeared to be more computer than anything else, with several screens lining the dashboard. She took her seat quietly, watching as he inserted the key into the ignition to start the car. Many of the screens came to life, showing different statistics, but Ryker quickly switched them off before she had a chance to study any of them closely.
They drove in silence and soon came to the dreaded portion of road where her mother's vehicle had rolled down the hill. Other than the skid marks on the tar and upturned grass, there was no further sign of there ever being an accident, like it had never happened.
A queasy feeling filled Isabella, and she felt the chocolate cupcake that she had earlier start pushing upwards. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a few deep breaths, willing the feeling to subside.
"How long has Ethan worked for you?"
Ryker's rumbling tone forced Isabella to open her eyes. She looked his way and couldn't help but feel envious of how relaxed he was, considering how she was nothing but a mess at the moment. "About nine years, I think."
"And do you have any idea on why he might suddenly want to resign?"
Isabella's lips twisted in annoyance. "I have a fairly good guess why."
"Care to elaborate?"
"It's not really my place to say."
Ryker hummed. "I know that something happened between him and your sister. Their expressions and body language spoke volumes about their relationship when I saw them together. For a brief moment, I thought that Ethan may have had a hand in the accident, since he wanted to speak to Jenny the same day, in fact, the morning of her accident. If he had been there nine years, it would seem a bit peculiar as to why he would suddenly want to resign. I'll admit that if your sister hadn't been present or you hadn't spoken to him the way you did, I would have considered him a suspect."
"Well, he's not. I know that he would never do something like that to my mom. He has always been extremely loyal to her."
Hazel eyes met hers. "How come?"
She shrugged and looked back at the road. "I don't know. I think she helped him out when he was in a difficult place. But I don't know anything more than that." She thought for a moment, rubbing her chin. "Besides, he would have to work several more weeks once he gave notice. If he wanted to 'flee the scene', then he would have just quit."
He turned to look back at the road. "Exactly, which is why I don't consider him one. But there is always a possibility . . ."
Ryker's words hung in the air, and Isabella pressed her lips together as she looked out the window. But instead of staring at the passing scenery, she watched the faint reflection of Ryker in the glass. He had leaned back in his seat, his one hand resting on his thigh while the other held the steering wheel, his elbow resting on the door.
His dark locks spilled onto his strong forehead, and the hard expression on his face didn't appear to ease. It looked as though he never smiled. A rather depressing thought because he looked like the kind of man who would have a very nice smile.
She shook her head when she realised that she had been staring at him when there was a far more pressing concern that she needed to address. She turned to face him again. "How do you know my dad?"
It was a question that plagued her mind from the moment her father made that call, but she hadn't had a chance to ask anyone.
Ryker's jaw clenched, and he shifted in his seat as he placed his other hand at the bottom of the steering wheel. "We go back a long way."
"Surely, not that long ago," she asked, studying his profile carefully.
His face was very mature, not an ounce of baby fat to be seen. And the formidable harshness of his features made him appear to be well past the teenage years. She guessed him to be around the age of thirty-five.
"Is twenty-one years long enough for you?" came Ryker's almost sarcastic reply, jarring Isabella from her analysis.
Her lips parted in surprise as his words registered in her mind. "How old are you?" she blurted out, before she could think to stop herself.
Ryker huffed, whether from annoyance or amusement, she wasn't sure. "I'm thirty-six."
Isabella's mind reeled, frantically doing the calculations to try and solve the puzzle. He had been fifteen when he met her father. A teenager. What possible business could he have had with him?
"So, how did you two meet?"
A dark look came across Ryker's features, hardening his jawline and squaring his shoulders. Despite the warm day, the atmosphere in the car seemed to drop several degrees. "I think it's best you ask your father that."
His tone was strong, firm, and it signalled an end to the discussion. Seeing that it was clearly a sensitive topic, Isabella didn't say another word. She turned back to the window, leaving her mind to conjure ideas on how the relationship between her father and the detective came to be and, more importantly, why her father had kept it a secret.
-
The usual nauseating smell of disinfectant and sick people assailed her senses when they entered the hospital once again. She tried not to grimace, never understanding how her mother and sister could thrive in an environment like this.
There was too much chaos.
She followed Ryker down a few corridors until they eventually reached the security room. After a short discussion with the guard and proof of Ryker's position, he let them through, and Isabella took in the sight of many computer screens showing different locations of the hospital.
There was another guard sitting in a chair, watching the screens before suddenly turning around to face the two. "Hey, there. How can I help you?" he asked as he took a massive slurp of his coffee.
Isabella frowned at his lack of manners, but remained silent as Ryker replied, "We need to look at the recordings from earlier this morning, specifically where the patients park."
The man turned back around and typed something on his keyboard. Isabella couldn't help herself from stepping closer to the screens, ending up right beside Ryker. It felt so strange in that moment, standing next to him. His foreboding frame and intimidating way in which he held himself made her feel quite the opposite to what she expected. She felt empowered in a way, more confident.
His hazel gaze caught her stare, and she quickly turned her attention back to the screens, her cheeks feeling like they were going to explode from mortification. She had to swallow down the sudden dryness in her throat and forced herself to concentrate on the screens.
"There," she said and pointed to a screen on the far left. "That's Oliver's car."
The guard slowed the recording, and the three of them watched the car move into a parking. Jenny stepped out the car a moment later and made her way into the hospital.
"Speed it up," Ryker commanded.
The guard did so, and they watched Oliver sitting in the car for quite some time before he stepped out.
"Slow it."
Isabella frowned as she watched the screen, seeing Oliver raise his hand as if to answer a phone. He seemed to speak for a while, pacing back and forth, before eventually returning to the car. It wasn't long after that when Jenny returned, climbed in the vehicle and they left.
"Nothing happened," she stated.
"Of course nothing happened, because it was playing on a loop for about three minutes," Ryker replied and pointed at the screen. "Rewind a couple minutes." He waited until the guard had done so. "Oliver looks like he's pacing back and forth, but he actually only moved once. You see that car drive there? It keeps driving past the camera, and it's the same car when you see its license plate."
The guard frowned. "But how did someone get that right?"
Ryker's sharp gaze turned to him. "You tell me," he said, his expression hard. "How did someone gain access to the security room to do this?"
The guard froze, his eyes going wide. "I-I . . ."
Ryker clenched his jaw. "Well?"
The man paused, realization striking his features. "Wait, there was an emergency at that time."
Ryker's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What sort of emergency?"
"Someone . . . had been hit by a car."
He raised an eyebrow at that. "Mhm, and so you rushed to the scene of the crime, leaving the door unlocked for anyone to waltz inside?"
"It . . . it was an emergency."
A beat of silence passed between them before Ryker eventually said, "Show me where the accident took place."
"Oh, our cameras don't reach there."
Isabella frowned at that response, and she looked at the guard with narrowed eyes. "So then how did you know of the accident?"
The uniformed man looked at her. "I was told about it on my radio."
She nodded, "Oh, alright."
"And you didn't see anyone suspicious-looking nearby when you left?" Ryker continued to question.
"No."
He nodded. "Rewind. I want to see if the cameras show anything."
The guard did so, and Isabella concentrated on the screens that showed in the inside of the security room, and the hallway outside. After several minutes, it showed nothing had happened. The guard had never left his seat, and Isabella assumed that that was when the loop started recording.
"I don't see anything," the guard muttered, concentrating on the screens.
"It appears so." Ryker looked down at him, analysing his expression carefully. "Are you sure you didn't see anyone?"
"Yes. There was no one that I saw."
"Alright." He held out his hand. The guard hesitated briefly before placing his hand in his. "Thank you for your time," Ryker said, and they shook hands before he turned, gesturing to Isabella that they could leave.
She felt herself deflate as he urged her to go through the door first. She had been hoping to see who it was that cut the lines, but it appeared to be a dead end.
She paused, remembering something. "Hey, Oliver was on the phone in that recording. If he had answered that call at the same time the brake lines were cut, it could have been a set up. If we find his phone, we can see who called him."
Ryker looked at her, and although he was impressed with how she had thought of that, he shook his head. "Unfortunately that won't work. I recovered his phone at the scene, and everything in it had been wiped clear exactly the same way the car's computer system had been."
Isabella sighed, feeling a headache forming. "So now what?"
When Ryker didn't respond, she glanced up at him. His gaze was thoughtful, but his expression was stern. A tiny blossom of hope flickered in her chest. "You have a plan, don't you?"
His hard hazel eyes slowly moved to look at her. "I do."
"Really, what is it?"
His brow furrowed. "Not so fast, Princess. I work alone, remember? You best get back to your mother. I'll handle everything from here."
"But—"
"No."
Before she had a chance to pester him further, he had turned and walked off, leaving her alone to ponder what it was that he had up his sleeve, and if they would find the culprit soon.