Darcy stepped aside to let her pass, her hand resting loosely on the doorframe. “See you tomorrow, Detective,” she said, her voice light, but something about it carried an edge.
Isabel hesitated a second too long before walking out. Her gut twisted, but she shoved the feeling down.
She didn’t look back—but the sensation of being watched lingered long after she left the room.
The night air was cool when Isabel stepped out of the precinct, the fluorescent hum inside replaced by the hush of an almost-empty lot. Her boots clicked against the pavement, the echo carrying further than it should have. She tugged her jacket tighter, still buzzing from the conversation with Darcy, still chewing on that itch of unease she’d tried to dismiss.
Her car sat under the far streetlamp, shadows pooling beneath it. She hit the fob, the taillights blinking red. Normal. Nothing out of place.
She slid into the driver’s seat, tossing her bag onto the passenger side. The faint smell of leather and coffee clung to the air. Her hand found the keys, slid them into the ignition?—
And froze.
Something didn’t feel right.
Her gut twisted hard, a wave of cold washing over her skin. She hesitated, her fingers hovering. She’d learned to listen to that instinct, the same instinct that had kept her alive more than once.
Her gaze swept the dashboard, the footwell, the seams of the console. Nothing obvious. Nothing screaming at her.
Still—her hand pulled back.
She opened the door slowly, stepping out into the night. That’s when she saw it: the faint, unnatural gleam of wiring tucked up beneath the chassis, barely visible in the streetlamp’s light.
Her stomach dropped.
She took a step back. Another. Her breath lodged in her throat.
The ignition clicked faintly as the keys shifted in the slot. Then?—
BOOM.
The car erupted in a deafening blast, a fireball punching into the night sky. Heat slammed into Isabel’s body, knocking her back onto the asphalt. Shards of glass rained down, the smell of burning fuel and scorched metal choking the air.
She scrambled, coughing, dragging herself behind a concrete barrier as the flames roared, her heart battering against her ribs.
Her car was gone. If she’d turned that key—if she hadn’t listened to that tiny voice—she’d be gone, too.
“Torres!”
Darcy’s voice ripped through the night. Isabel twisted toward the precinct doors just as Darcy barreled out, her boots pounding the asphalt. Her face was pale in the glow of the flames, her eyes wide with panic.
“Help! Somebody call it in,” Darcy shouted over her shoulder before dropping to her knees beside Isabel. “Jesus, Torres—are you hit?” Her hands skimmed over Isabel’s arms, her sides, checking for blood, for torn fabric, for anything that meant the blast had left more than ringing ears and scorched lungs behind.
“I’m fine,” Isabel rasped, though her voice shook. The heat from the wreck still pressed against her back, glass crunching under her palms.
Darcy didn’t look convinced. Her eyes swept her again, frantic, as if expecting some hidden wound to surface. “That was your car.”
“Yeah,” Isabel muttered, coughing against the smoke curling through the air. “What’s left of it.”
The words came out harsher than she meant, but the adrenaline made her skin prickle and her pulse hammer. She shoved herself up on shaky legs, ignoring Darcy’s steadying hand.
The fire screamed behind them, but louder still was the truth pounding in Isabel’s chest: someone had just tried to kill her.
And the person who planted that bomb had known exactly which car was hers.
The sirens had faded, leaving only the crackle of fire hoses and the distant murmur of uniforms roping off the scene. Isabel sat on the edge of the parked ambulance, a blanket draped over her shoulders more for show than warmth. Her ears still rang, her throat raw from smoke. The medic had pronounced her lucky—no burns, no serious injuries—but the adrenaline hadn’tlet her believe it yet. Her body still felt like live wire, buzzing and hollow all at once.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She fumbled it out, blinking at the name flashing across the screen.
