“I’m sorry if I’ve complicated things.”
Samuel was sympathetic. “Don’t be. This has been a traumatic experience for you. It’s important that we look into every detail that you think you remember.”
“Think I remember? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Under severe stress the mind can play tricks on us.”
Isabel didn’t disagree. Maybe she was overreacting and confusing her memories with reality.
Samuel went on to share some information about the investigation. “We’ve identified the man you shot. His name was Jacoby, and he has a criminal record a mile long. We’ve talked to the Miami police, and they’ve told us that Detective Walsh was in Boston on personal business but he mentioned something about helping a friend. We believe he was after Jacoby. We haven’t sifted out the particulars yet, but with the Miami police involved now, we’ll get to the bottom of this soon. We won’t need you any longer, at least not for the time being, but I would appreciate it if you would keep us informed of your whereabouts just in case something comes up.”
“I will,” she promised.
“I want to thank you for your cooperation and your patience, Isabel,” he said. “You’re a very brave young lady.”
She didn’t agree. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“I am,” he insisted. “I’ll let Michael know what we discussed.”
“Actually, Michael won’t be available. He isn’t my attorney any longer. His brother Nick will be handling any legal issues from now on.” She added, “He lives in Boston.”
She hoped Nick was agreeable. She knew he was an attorney, and if he declined, she would ask Theo. Assuming she needed an attorney at all.
She had just ended the call when another came in. She didn’t recognize the number but decided to answer anyway.
“Is this Isabel MacKenna?” There was something oddly familiar about the man’s deep, baritone voice.
“Yes,” she answered. “And who is this?”
“My name is Xavier O’Dell. I’m hoping you’re familiar with my work and that you like it.”
“Xavier . . . Did you say . . .”
She heard a long drawn-out sigh over the phone, and then he said, “I’m better known by my initials, XO.”
She nearly dropped the phone. Even though she recognized the voice now, she couldn’t believe it was really him. She burst into laughter. “No, you’re not XO.”
Did he honestly think she would believe the man she was talking to was XO, the most famous singer in the United States . . . perhaps even the world? And the hottest?
“Isabel?”
Snap out of it, she told herself. “Yes?”
“It really is XO, Isabel,” he insisted. “I prefer Xavier, but it seems my fans prefer my initials. I’m not sure who started it, but it quickly caught on.”
It took another five minutes to convince her. By then she was shaking from head to toe.
“I love your voice,” she blurted.
“And I love yours,” he replied. “I’ve watched your video at least a dozen times, and when I found out you were in Boston, I decided to call and ask a favor. I also have a business proposition for you.”
“How did you find out I was in Boston? And how did you get my number?”
“I have a large staff. They’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh,” she said. She was so excited she could barely think. “What’s the favor?”
“I’m performing at The Garden Friday night.”
She knew The Garden. She’d been there before. It was a huge arena with maybe twenty thousand seats. It was an older facility, she remembered, but it had been updated and the acoustics were surprisingly good.
Xavier’s concerts were always sold out just minutes after tickets were offered for sale. The Boston concert was no exception. She was hoping that XO would offer her tickets, but as it turned out he offered her much more.
At the end of XO’s call Isabel thought her heart was going to explode, it was beating so fast. She ran down the steps. She found Nick and Dylan in the kitchen. They had architectural blueprints spread out on the table.
Nick was in the middle of asking a question but stopped when he saw Isabel’s face. Her cheeks were flushed.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“You’re not going to believe . . . I mean, I can’t believe it . . . It’s crazy,” she stammered.