Isla by Any Other Name (Secure Attachments #1)

1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

The hospital was chaos that night. And Isla Pierce was in her element.

It was after two in the morning and Isla’s shift should have ended three hours ago.

But the fog had caused plenty of accidents.

She had been mandated to stay and hadn’t minded in the least. Adrenaline coursed through her body and she thrived on it.

These were the nights she had dreamed of when her marriage had fallen apart.

This was the reason her adoptive parents had paid her school bills. She was meant to be here.

“Isla, go home. Things have finally settled down,” her friend Declan said as he filled out a report in front of him.

“I will. Just a minute. I want to check on that last patient before I leave.”

“I’ll leave with you and walk you home. The fog is still as thick as pea soup out there.”

“Declan, you don’t have to wait for me. I’ll be fine, it’ll take me all of five minutes to walk home. You go on ahead and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Trivia night with the fourth floor nurses Friday?” Declan asked earnestly.

“Not my thing,” said Isla, shaking her long strawberry-blond hair out of her scrub cap. Her fellow nurses had been inviting her to things all year, but making friends wasn’t on her radar. Her answer would always be no. “But thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Go home,” he smiled as he shrugged on his jacket.

Isla entered her patient’s room and checked his vitals. She turned to leave the room and a noise made her turn back. Her patient’s eyes had followed her to the door.

“Thank you. You saved my life tonight. The doctor was just here and told me how you stepped in and brought me back. I can’t thank you enough for all you did.”

“I didn’t think you were ready to give up.”

“I wasn’t. My wife and I just had a baby three months ago. It’s because of you that I’ll get to see her grow up. I couldn’t even imagine leaving my wife and baby alone,” he said as tears streamed down his face. “Do you have anyone at home you’d die to live for?”

Isla shook her head sadly. She’d always have her adoptive parents, but still went home to an empty apartment each night. She squeezed her patient’s arm. “But you do. That’s what mattered tonight.”

Isla walked out the door and down the hall. She collected her things and walked out into the swirling thick fog.

The night was dark as pitch. The clouds touched the ground in billowing swirls. Isla felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Only two more blocks and she’d be in the safety of her tiny studio apartment.

Did she hear footsteps behind her or was it just her imagination?

The sounds of the night were distorted, the thick fog was making everything sound different.

She’d never had any problems walking home from work before.

She’d walked the five blocks to her apartment every night after her shift for the last year.

It was just her mind playing games with her.

Declan’s warning. The brain fog of a long shift full of blood and close calls.

If she turned down the alley ahead, she’d get to her place quicker. It was a shortcut she usually only took in the daylight, but she just wanted to get home. A hot bath and a glass of wine were what she needed to put an end to this day.

She was halfway down the alley when she heard moaning coming from the direction of the garage two buildings away from hers. Jim Watkins’s auto garage—her favorite mechanic since she’d moved to Pittsburgh. Was he hurt? She’d just look in and check on him.

She peered in the window as the moans grew louder.

She turned the doorknob and the door clicked open.

“Jim, it’s Isla. Are you okay?” She moved into the doorway between the front office and the garage bay.

She could see a man in an expensive three-piece suit, his black hair slicked back.

What was he doing in there? He barked out an order. “Shoot him!”

And then, a shot rang out.

Isla pitched forward and looked in the direction the shot had come from. It was Jim, tied to a chair. Against his wiry chest, his disheveled salt-and-pepper head was slumped—half of it blown away.

The man in the suit looked at the body, then checked his watch as if he had better places to be.

Another hulking giant of a man stood behind Jim’s body with a gun in his hand.

Isla was frozen for a moment. Then her flight instinct took over as she turned and ran out the door.

It slammed behind her, and she winced at the noise.

She ran down the alley. Soon, footsteps sounded behind her. Someone was following her closely. The fog felt like breath on her neck. She pushed faster. She could see the back door of her apartment. If she were lucky, she could get in and lock the door, run to her apartment, and call for help.

Luck was with her. She pulled the door open and locked it behind her.

Thank God the hall light had been burnt out since last week.

She stood just out of sight and watched as the giant ran past into the fog.

She didn’t know how much time she had. He could turn around any second and realize where she’d gone.

She crept up the stairs and turned the key, then ran into the apartment and pulled out her phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed.

“Hello, 911. What’s your emergency?” the dispatcher asked tiredly.

“Hello, this is Isla Pierce, I live at 323 Neumann Street, Apartment 3C. I was walking home from work and heard moaning coming from the alley side of Jim’s Auto Body on Main Street. I thought he might be hurt so I entered the building and a shot was fired. Jim is…Jim is…dead.”

The dispatcher seemed to perk up. “You’re saying a man was shot…are you safe?”

“I ran to my apartment. But I know they followed me. Can you please send someone? Hurry!”

“Stay on the line with me. I’ve dispatched someone to your location. Don’t answer the door until the officer has identified himself. Can you give me any more details while we wait?”

“I—uh.” Isla tried to even out her breath.

She was trained for this level of stress.

She tried again, “I thought Jim was hurt. Sometimes he works late into the night, so I went in to check. There were two men that I know of. One was a tall man dressed in a dark suit and another guy was standing behind Jim with a gun in his hand. He shot Jim in the head. I turned and ran, and they chased me. I could hear someone running after me. I’m… scared.”

“They’re on their way, just stay with me.”

The intercom buzzed. Isla felt dread and relief at the same time. “I think they’re here. Stay with me, please.”

A voice came through the intercom. “This is Detective Anders. Is this Isla Pierce?”

“He says his name is Anders,” Isla said to the dispatcher.

“That’s right,” the dispatcher said kindly. “Open the door for him.”

She buzzed to open the door downstairs. “Detective Anders, come on up.” She stood at the open door waiting for him to climb the three flights of stairs.

Finally, two large men rounded the corner into the hall. “Miss Pierce?”

“Yes, I’m Isla Pierce.” As she said her own name, tears filled her eyes.

“Miss Pierce, I’m Detective Anders,” he said. His brown suit was rumpled, matching the wrinkles under his eyes. “Let’s go inside your apartment. We can talk there.”

She stood aside as they walked in. They looked huge in her tiny apartment. She was trembling. She’d seen a lot as an ER nurse, but what she’d just witnessed would be embedded in her brain forever. She wanted to throw up.

Detective Anders pointed to the other man, who looked tall, lean, and much younger. Fresh-faced on the police force. “This is Detective Barton, my partner. Ms. Pierce, can you tell us what happened?”

Isla repeated the same sequence of events she had told the 911 dispatcher. Her trembling just seemed to be getting worse.

“Ms. Pierce, we’d like to take you down to the station to take your statement. Hopefully you can identify the men that you saw at the garage.”

“Sure, I’ll try. I got a good look at the two of them. Anything I can do so you can catch these guys. Jim was a nice guy. He fixed my car once and didn’t even charge me.”

“The sooner we get you down to the station the sooner we can identify the suspects. Let’s go.” Detective Anders led her down the stairs and into his car.

She could hear the sirens screeching and saw lights flashing down the block.

She couldn’t believe this was happening.

Her mind was numb with fear. They’d seen her face and she knew that they would continue to look for her.

Just as her post-divorce, new-career life was becoming normal.

God only knew what she’d gotten herself into.

Down at the station, Detective Anders and Detective Barton led her into an empty room. “Ms. Pierce, can I get you anything? A cup of coffee or a can of soda? Water?”

Isla’s throat was still tight. “Thank you, Detective Barton. A bottle of water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” said Detective Barton.

“Ms. Pierce, can you write down what you saw? Even the smallest detail. Anything you can remember—even if you don’t think it’s important,” he said. He handed her a piece of paper.

Isla’s hand shook as she held a pen. “I’ll write down what I remember, but I just want you to know right now my mind is feeling a bit…numb. This can’t…be happening to me.” The dam had finally broken as tears streamed down her face. “I feel sick. Can I please go to the ladies’ room?”

“Of course. It’s down the hall to your left. Are you okay?”

“I think so, just shocked.” A sick laugh escaped her lips. “I’m an ER nurse at UPMC. You’d think I’d be tougher.”

“Tough has nothing to do with it, ma’am,” said the detective with kind eyes. “What you saw tonight would upset anybody, even me. And I’ve seen more than I’d like to share.”

Isla went into the restroom and splashed cold water on her face.

A haunted woman looked back at her from the bathroom mirror.

Her stomach heaved as she ran into the stall and upchucked her evening dinner.

Her head felt like it was going to explode.

So much for a nice hot soak and a glass of wine.

Her life had just gotten extremely complicated.

After writing down her statement, the next step was to go through a series of mug shots to see if she could identify the men in the garage. Isla flipped through screen after screen for three hours, her head throbbing.

Finally, she found what she’d been looking for. She called Detective Anders over. “Him!” She pointed. “I’ll never forget that face. The piercing hazel eyes. The mole over his lip.”

Detective Anders turned the screen and looked at Detective Barton with a smile. “We’ve got him.” He pulled the keyboard over to himself and typed for a few seconds. Swinging the screen back to Isla, he said, “Is this the other man you saw?”

“That’s him, the man in the suit!” Isla exclaimed. “He’s older looking now, but it’s definitely him.”

Suddenly, Detective Anders looked serious. He said, “Ms. Pierce, can you please wait here?” He directed her into the empty room again. Isla sat in the room for what seemed like hours until Detectives Anders and Barton returned. They sat across from her.

Detective Anders folded his hands in front of him and said, “Miss Pierce, the man you identified is Marcus Hernandez. He’s the head of a major Colombian drug cartel.

Why he was at Jim’s Auto Body we can’t say, we’re still in the investigative stages of the case.

But for him to be personally there means something really big.

For him to take a chance like he just did—is reckless.

Usually, he sends his muscle to take care of his situations.

“Miss Pierce, we’re not going to sugarcoat this, you’re in danger.

You’re the only eyewitness that can bring one of the most notorious criminals in modern history to his knees.

What you’ve witnessed can send him to death row.

He’ll be looking for you and he’s got the power to find you.

We can’t let you go back to your apartment.

It won’t be safe. This has turned into a federal investigation.

In the next few hours, a team of federal agents will arrive and take over.

Unfortunately, you’ve got yourself in the middle of something really big.

We’ll have to keep you here for your own protection.

When the agents get here, they’ll fill you in on what they need to do to keep you safe. ”

Isla’s mouth went dry. “You’re…scaring me, Detective.”

His mouth was a straight line. “I’m sorry, ma’am. But you need to be on your guard. These people don’t mess around. This is as serious as it gets. In the meantime, what can I get you to eat? You’re not going anywhere soon."