Chapter 25
Gabe
After a troubled night of Izzie’s crushed expression playing over and over in my head, regret churns in my gut for my hasty decision to walk away from our budding relationship. I got scared and fled, not even trying to figure out how we could move forward. I ran away rather than fighting for us. What a horrible decision!
I wake up at the crack of dawn. It isn’t even light outside yet, but I tumble out of bed. Fixing a strong pot of coffee, I slump at my laptop to scan Izzie’s inbox. I don’t think she checked it yesterday or possibly even the day before.
A suspicious sender name catches my eye. When I click on the email, I groan as I stare at another threatening communication.
SILENCED IN THE MILE HIGH CITY!
WILL SOMETHING WORSE HAPPEN IN THE BIG APPLE?
Swiping my phone, I dial the General. As soon as he answers, I say, “Winston, Izzie got another threatening email. We need to get a message to Luke ASAP. Do you know what time they arrive in New York?”
They’re flying on her father’s private jet, so Izzie should be safe in the air, but I want Luke to be on high alert as soon as they touch down.
“I’ve got their itinerary and I’ll get a message to Fieldstone,” he says. “Have you tried to trace the sender’s identity?”
“Next on my agenda. I’ll keep you posted.” I hang up before he can tell me I’m off the job completely.
After I hang up, I pull out all the cyber tracing tools in my arsenal and diligently research the sender’s identity. If I can figure out who this is, maybe I can stop Izzie’s stalker once and for all. But I don’t hold out much hope since all the previous emails were impossible to trace.
While tracing the IP address of the server where the email originated, my mouth falls open. Was the sender careless this time or did they want to be found? I try a few different tools to perform the trace, just in case I’ve come to the wrong conclusion, but every time I get the same result.
An hour later, I call the General again. “I’ve got news on the email sender!” I say in an excited voice.
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know who exactly, but the email came from a server at Glam Products, Inc.”
“No kidding? I thought you said Izzie didn’t suspect that Kat woman?”
“She didn’t. But maybe Kat Von Steenburg isn’t as charming as she appears to the public,” I say.
“What’s your next move?” he asks.
“She lives about thirty minutes away. I’m going to pay her a visit. I’ve already called her assistant and scheduled a meeting.” It was amazingly easy to contact the assistant, based on information from the Glam Products website. I wasn’t surprised when the assistant scheduled me on Kat’s calendar right away. The mention of suspicious emails coming from a Glam Products private email server worked like a charm. Meeting at Kat’s home instead of her office seems odd, but I roll with it.
“Nice work, Sequoia! Luke’s getting extra security at the bookstore for the signing tomorrow. Keep me posted,” he says, then hangs up. I feel an unexpected pang of loss at being called my Marine nickname. After just a few days, I was getting used to being Gabe again. Or Gabriel, I suppose.
After donning my suit and tie, hoping to lull Kat into thinking this is a friendly meeting, I hop in my SUV. As I drive, I mentally prepare for the meeting with the cosmetics mogul.
~*~
Kat Von Steenburg is obviously flaunting her wealth, if her home is any indication. After I key in the gate code at her estate, I drive on the winding path through a grove of trees, and a Mediterranean-style mansion eventually appears in a clearing. It’s a massive stucco structure with a red tile roof, ornate archways, and a porte cochere gracing the front door. Several outbuildings dot the property. Looks like there’s even a stable, as I see a fancy barn with several horses grazing nearby.
When I ring the bell, a man wearing a black suit answers the door. “Mr. Martin?” he asks.
“Yes, Gabriel Martin. I’m here to meet with Ms. Von Steenburg.”
He nods, then ushers me through a cavernous entryway, my shoes squeaking on the polished marble floors. We head down a long hallway and he stops outside a doorway.
“Mr. Martin is here to see you.”
“Excellent! I’m ready for him,” a female voice replies.
He motions that I can enter the room, which appears to be an office. A lady in her mid-forties is sitting behind a fancy wooden desk. She’s dressed in a red suit, and her hair is perfectly coiffed into a bun at the back of her head. She stands and I extend my hand.
“Gabriel Martin. Nice to meet you.”
We shake. “Please sit down, Mr. Martin,” she says as she points to a chair in front of her desk. After I’m seated, she resumes her seat, folds her hands on her desk and says, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Martin?”
Did the assistant not tell her why I called? “Please call me Gabe,” I say.
She smiles, “Please call me Kat.” The skin at the corners of her eyes crinkles, making those wrinkles become much more apparent. Maybe her skin care routine isn’t as effective as Izzie’s? Although she is quite a bit older.
“Kat, how well do you know Ismeralda Harrington?” I ask, then watch her expression carefully, but she just smiles pleasantly.
“Izzie is a very successful influencer! Her makeup tips videos are very popular.” The politically correct statement reveals nothing.
“Miss Harrington has been receiving threatening emails for several weeks.”
“Oh? I’m so sorry to hear that,” Kat says, displaying the right amount of concern in her voice and in her body language.
“The emails started shortly after Ismeralda’s less than positive review of your Glam cosmetics.”
Kat’s pleasant expression slips slightly, but she quickly restores it. “Is there a connection you’re driving at, Mr. Martin?” Ok, either the assistant didn’t tell her the bit about suspicious emails or Kat is not as savvy as she appears.
Shifting in my seat, I buy a little time by adjusting my tie and pulling on the cuffs of my sleeves, all meant to make her think I’m the one who’s nervous. As she waits for my clothing rearrangements, her knee starts to bounce, a sure sign that she isn’t as composed as she wants me to think.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I’ve traced the email Miss Harrington received yesterday to a Glam Products server.”
That revelation makes her sit up straighter in her chair. “Well, I certainly didn’t send it, nor did any of my employees!” she huffs.
“How do you know that one of your employees isn’t trying to defend your products and your reputation by intimidating Miss Harrington with these emails?”
She glares across the desk at me. “I’m sure no one on our staff would do such a thing. We hold ourselves to the highest professional standards.”
Staring intently at her, I say, “I see. How did Izzie’s review impact your sales?”
Her expression hardens. “That’s really none of your business, Mr. Martin,” she says between clinched teeth.
“I beg to differ, Kat. Declining product sales could be the motivation behind these threatening emails.” Her glare could make a statue flinch. “I checked your stock value this morning, and it’s at an all-time low.”
She waves her hand in a dismissive gesture, as if swatting a gnat. “That’s just a temporary seasonal adjustment. The stock will come back around during the holidays.”
I nod, acting as if I accept her explanation. Although when I researched Glam’s stock trends, I saw it steadily increasing until Izzie’s review, then it plunged.
“Where is your sister’s current location? I’d asked to also meet with her, but obviously she isn’t here.” After some research, I learned that Kat’s sister Lillith is Vice President in charge of production. Kat’s CEO position sounds more like a figurehead, rather than being involved in day-to-day operations.
“She wasn’t able to make it,” Kat says, then stands. “I believe our meeting is over, Mr. Martin. Rodney will see you out.”
My Spidey-Senses go on full alert at Lillith’s absence, but I school my expression.
The butler appears as if from thin air and accompanies me to the front door. As soon as I’m outside, he closes the door none too gently in my face.
If I was a betting man, both Kat and Lillith are behind these emails. I wonder if Izzie knows the sister, because I couldn’t find any photos of her on the company website or on social media. After I get in my vehicle, I urgently swipe my phone.
“Mr. Martin, I thought you had been replaced from my security team.” Izzie’s statement contains no trace that she’s pleased to hear from me.
The frost in her voice makes my heart sink. I’m truly in the doghouse. “I’m not your bodyguard, but I’m still on the team. I wanted to let you know I tracked the latest email, and I have a lead I want to ask you about.”
She emits a long, put-out sigh. “Very well.”
The Diva act is back in its full glory.
“Do you know Lillith Von Steenburg?”
“Kat’s sister?” Izzie asks.
“Yes. She’s Vice President of Glam Products, Inc.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her.”
My suspicions are that Lillith is in New York and going to do something at the book signing tomorrow, however I have no firm evidence to present to Izzie. Obviously I can’t warn Izzie to be on the lookout for Lillith since neither of us know what she looks like.
“I tracked the stalker’s latest email to a Glam Products email server. I just met with Kat and she denied any knowledge, but my gut tells me she and her sister are not as innocent as Kat claims.”
A long pause on the line leads me to check my screen to make sure the call is still connected.
“So, what should I do, Gabriel?” she says in a small voice. Her use of my first name slams into my chest, and I realize that I’d be devastated if anything happens to her.
Why did I leave her in Luke’s care? He’s a good bodyguard, but he isn’t me . I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe.
“Please be on alert, Izzie. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I plead, not even trying to hide my emotions.
I hear a noise as if she’s tapping her finger on something, which she probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing. After several seconds, she says, “I’m sure Mr. Fieldstone will keep me safe, but thank you for the warning.”
She hangs up before I can tell her how I feel about her and that I was an idiot to walk away.
~*~
On the drive home I stew over the fact that I’m here in California while the woman I love is clear across the country. When I get back home, I call Winston again.
“Learn anything?” he asks, forgoing any kind of polite greeting.
“I’m even more suspicious that either Kat or her sister are behind the emails and the stalking, but that’s just a gut feeling. I’m worried about Izzie doing that book signing tomorrow.”
He grunts. “What you mean to say is that you’re in love with the woman and need to fly to New York to guard her yourself. Am I right?”
Is the guy a mind reader?
Expelling a loud breath, I admit my feelings. “You’re right. I’d never get over it if something happened to Izzie and I didn’t at least try to protect her.”
He sighs. “Love’s a funny emotion. It makes you do crazy things, like running away when you should admit your feelings and stay so you can work through all the messiness. Believe me, I know from experience.”
I’m surprised by his honest disclosure. Winston is usually tough as nails, but he’s been through his own fair share of relationship problems. He recently reconnected with his estranged wife—after living apart for years—and he’s never been happier, by his own admission. His advice spurs me into action.
“Winston, sorry to cut this short, but I need to get on a plane.”
“Go get the woman you love. But you’re still fired as her bodyguard!” He laughs as I disconnect the call.