“Can you add a lot of different colors?” She bounced up and down.
“Sure. If it works.”
Gently, I held one of the braids framing her face. Carefully, I started at the bottom and worked my needle in and out, adding a subtle hint of glitter and color. I tied a bow at the end of the braid once I was done working the color in. I did the same thing to the other side of her head. After I got the hang of it, things moved relatively quickly. I repeated the process over and over until the top layer of braids had been adorned in shades of crimson, apricot, sunshine, fern, peacock, cobalt, flamingo and plum.
“All done,” I declared when I’d tied off the last one.
“I wanna see.” She hopped from one foot to the other.
“Let’s go to the bathroom so you can look in the mirror.” I held her hand as we moved down the corridor to the nearest restroom.
As soon as she caught her reflection in the mirror, she squealed. “Oh my gosh.”
Holding my compact mirror, I turned her body and angled the mirror so she could see the back.
“Eeeeekkk!”
I winced at her ear-piercing screech.
“Thank you so much, Izzy. I love them.”
“Great. I hope your parents will too.” I probably should’ve asked her dad before I messed with her hair.
“Let’s go find Daddy.” She tugged me out the door. Anyone looking at her like this never would’ve guessed she’d been fighting for her life nearly two years ago.
When we rounded the corner, Charles was coming out of his office. “I was just looking for you two.” His mouth dropped open. “Somebody’s been busy.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I know I should’ve asked before I messed with Sydney’s hair. But the idea came to me as she explained how she wanted her hair to be special. And I kind of just went with it.” My face scrunched up in concern.
“I think it looks beautiful. Nice work.” He smiled widely at his daughter.
I sighed in relief and walked out with the father-daughter pair.
We strolled down the street to a little diner that was known for their burgers and milkshakes.
The rest of the afternoon flew by as I enjoyed lunch and laughter with Sydney and Charles. It was something I was in desperate need of.
When I arrived back at my apartment a few hours later, my heart was lighter and there was a spring in my step. A crowd milled around on the sidewalk outside the front door. Squeezing through the throng, I finally reached the front of the building. Police were taking photos of the wall next to the door. As they stepped aside, I was able to read the graffiti message on the bricks. “He’s MINE, slut.”
Who would paint that on the side of an apartment building? I didn’t know all of my neighbors, but my heart went out to whoever the message was directed towards.
When I entered the lobby, a police officer stopped me. “Which apartment do you live in ma’am?”
“I’m Isabelle Clark, and I live in five-A.”
“Would you mind answering a few questions for me?” He had a pad and pen poised ready to take down my response.
“Sure. Not sure how much help I can be since I don’t really know very many of the tenants in the building. But whatever I can do,” I agreed.
“We think the message is directed towards a woman and was painted by a woman. Are you currently involved with anyone?”
“Yes, I have a boyfriend. But he doesn’t live here. He’s a doctor in Atlanta,” I explained.
He wrote down my answer. “Is he married?” the officer asked without looking up from his notepad.
“What?” I asked, outraged. “I would never date a married man. That’s an awful thing to suggest.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
He finally looked up at me. “I mean no offense, ma’am. It’s just something we have to ask. It seems the perpetrator feels some sort of entitlement or ownership of the man in question.”
I was slightly mollified. “I understand. And unless Beckett has been hiding some secret life from me, he is not married.”
“You said he’s a doctor?” He tapped his pen against the pad.
“That’s right.”
“Do you know if there are any patients who might have formed some sort of attachment to him?” he asked.
“I guess that could be the case. But like I said, we’re in a long-distance relationship. And we have been from the beginning. I can’t imagine one of his patients traveling a few hours to deface the building where I live,” I said.
“You’re probably right. But if you could humor me and ask him if he can think of anyone, I’d appreciate it. Here’s my card. If you find out anything or see anything, give me a call.” He held out a business card.
“Thanks. I will.” I took the card and made my way to the quiet of my haven.
Chapter 8
Dawson
After taping the show, I longed to reach out to Izzy. But I wasn’t quite ready for her to shut me down completely. I wanted to make sure she came to the concert. She needed to be there before she made a decision about our future.
I’d seen her with Beckett. I knew she cared about him. But I was also certain she felt the same electricity as I did crackling between us when we saw each other. And if she did, I knew her heart was feeling torn. I didn’t want her to feel rushed or pressured. Patience was something I had in spades.
I cut down my contact to a text a day just to let her know I was thinking of her. Besides, she was busy getting prepared for her show. But I hated not hearing her voice. Now that I’d gotten it back, I was going into withdrawals without it. The days felt unbearably long.
The guys and I spent time each day working on our set list for the three hometown shows. We wanted to add a few covers in honor of each state. In addition to “Dear Universe,” we were going to introduce one other song from the upcoming album, plus all the old favorites. The rest of my time was spent between the sea and writing another new song.
Meanwhile, Rayne—with help from Lila—managed to shut down all attempts to post any video clips from the anniversary party. Joe and his security team were coming with us to South Carolina for the concert. Their previous commitments would be over just in time.
I sat at the table, staring at scraps of photo paper. Since I’d gotten back from South Carolina, I’d been unable to meet up with Rayne to pick up the last note from the stalker, so the puzzle sat on my table with a gaping hole in the middle. She was going to bring it by after dinner. Hopefully, the pieces she had would give me a clue as to who was stalking me.
Too wound up to stay inside, I went in the laundry room and tugged on my still damp wetsuit. The neoprene was cool on my skin. Grains of sand still inside from this morning abraded my skin. I welcomed the irritation. It distracted me from my longing for Izzy. Sweat coated my body by the time I’d yanked the suit into place. I really needed to invest in a second suit—it wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it.
With my board wedged under my arm, I made my way to where heaven met Earth. As soon as the water came into view, I picked up my pace. The waves looked even better than they were this morning. I jogged through the sand, kicking up grains until my feet hit the water-pressed shoreline. The cool water swirled around my ankles before it receded. I followed it, ready to surrender to the ocean’s embrace. Air filled my lungs before I pressed my lips together tightly and dove into the coming wave. Powerful strokes carried me past the breakpoint.
Sliding my body up my board, I positioned myself to catch the next wave. I counted the seconds between crests. When the count hit zero in my mind, I popped up on my board and rode.
I caught wave after wave until my legs trembled with exhaustion.
Just as I decided to call it a day, movement on the beach caught my eye. Pink hair fluttered in the breeze.
Izzy.
I jumped off my board and swam as hard as I could in the direction of the shore. The woman turned to go. “Izzy, wait,” I shouted against the wind. But she didn’t stop.
By t
he time I waded out of the surf, there was no sign of her. Maybe she was waiting at the house. I sprinted in the direction of my place. I cut through a side street, approaching my house from the front. The gate stood open, but I didn’t pause to consider how that was possible. I was a man on a mission. As I moved up the cobblestone path, something crunched beneath my feet. Frowning, I stopped in my tracks and looked down. A trail of black ran the length of my walkway. Stooping down, I picked up one of the dark objects. They were little balls of paper. Quickly, I unfolded the one in my hand.
Ice ran in my veins. The little wads of paper were black hearts. I followed the path like a trail of breadcrumbs to my front door. My heart froze in my chest when I caught sight of the large black heart nailed to my front door. In dripping red letters, there was a one-word message. “Soon.”
Without wasting time, I moved around the side of the house and punched in the code to enter the house through the garage. I armed my security system and called Joe to fill him in. He had me check the house while I was on the phone with him. No one had been inside.
A quick check of the time revealed I had about an hour before Rayne and the guys would be here. Probably less than an hour before Joe would be ringing my bell.
I took the world’s fastest shower. At least it was hot.
Then I ordered Chinese takeout for everyone. Mom would be proud of my hosting abilities. That taken care of, I moved around the house mopping up where I’d dripped all over the floor. By the time everything was cleaned up my doorbell rang. Laughter bubbled up when I peered through the glass to find Joe laden with bags and boxes of Chinese food.
“Hey, man.” I threw open the door. “Where’s the delivery guy?”
“He was coming up the walk, so I paid him and relieved him of his burden. You planning to feed an army, D?”
“Nah. Didn’t know what everyone was in the mood for, so I ordered a little of everything.” I shrugged and held the door wide.
“I’ll just take it all to the kitchen.”
I followed the big man through the open space to the kitchen.
After he set everything on the bar, he stepped to the puzzle on the table. This was his first time seeing it in person.
“How often do the letters come?” His large fingers turned over the scattered, unattached pieces in the middle.
“It varies. When they first started coming years ago, they didn’t have puzzle pieces, and they arrived every few months or so. Recently, they’ve been coming nearly every week. Rayne is bringing the latest one over in just a little while.” I picked up a stray piece and rotated it in my fingers.
His large head shook as he moved around the table to study it from a different angle. “I don’t like this. My gut says the part missing in the center is you. I think it’s symbolic that your stalker cut a photo of you to bits. And the particular photo she chose to chop up is you standing in front of what you openly admitted to the world years ago as the most romantic spot in the world. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, man.” He looked up at me.
“You and me both. It worries me that I might be putting a target on Izzy by trying to reconnect with her. I don’t know what this stalker chick will do,” I admitted.
“I need to read the letters. And I’ll make sure someone from my team is with you all the time until we can get things figured out. The black hearts and the message on your door make me feel like this is on the verge of escalating.”
“The letters are in the drawer over there behind you. What do you think about Izzy? I’m supposed to hang out with her after my show in South Carolina.” I didn’t want to give up any opportunity to spend time with her. But if Joe thought it was a bad idea, I’d have to listen to him.
“She’s coming with her boyfriend?” he confirmed.
“Yeah.” I scowled.
“That’ll probably help. Plus, there will be tons of security between my team and the venue staff. She should be safe there.”
“OK.” I was still uneasy, but I had to trust my staff. And I wasn’t worried enough to walk away from her for good.
Reaching overhead, I pulled a stack of paper plates from the cabinet. The doorbell rang while I was getting out silverware and cups.
“I got it, D.” He ambled down the hall to the front door.
A feminine voice drifted from the foyer, followed by a chuckle.
“Smells good in here,” Rayne announced as she came around the counter to give me a one-armed hug.
“Hope you like Chinese,” I said.
“It’s one of my weaknesses. What’s with the paper littering your walkway?” She stepped to the counter to peek in the containers.
“Seems a visitor got past my security gate and left a message while I was surfing.” I shook my head and filled the cups with ice.
“Better change the codes again,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah. And I’m installing a camera.”
She set her purse on the countertop behind us with a thud. Glitter-tipped fingers dipped inside and withdrew a stack of envelopes.
“I thought you just had the one letter?” I asked.
Her lips turned down in a frown. “Two more came. One yesterday and one today. I didn’t open them yet since I was going to see you today.”
I held out my hand to take the letters.
“Bring them over here,” Joe demanded from where he waited by the puzzle.
As I moved around the counter, I pulled the letter from the opened envelope and handed it over to my bodyguard and friend. Then I dumped the puzzle pieces onto the table. After checking the postmarks, I slid my finger beneath the flap of the oldest of the two letters. Quickly, I emptied the paper scraps to the table. A sense of urgency and dread mounted as I repeated the process with the other envelope. With trembling hands, I unfolded the first note.
Dear Universe,
I need help removing the obstacle in my way. I should've dealt with it ten years ago.
Love,
Me.
Fury and fear waged a war inside me as I mentally confirmed the only logical obstacle she could be referencing. Without saying anything, I thrust the flimsy sheet at Joe.
Trepidation made my heart pound and my mouth go dry as I read the next one.
Dear Universe,
Thanks for showing me where she is.
Love,
Me.
I collapsed into the chair closest to me, dropping the offending paper to the floor. The world around me spun and faded.
“D, yo man! Wake up, dude.” A sharp jerking motion ripped through my body, rattling my teeth and jolting me back to the present.
“Are you OK?” Worry filled Rayne’s eyes as she stooped in front of me.
“Yeah. What happened?” I shook my head in confusion.
Grabbing my arm, she pressed her fingertips to the underside of my wrist. “You fainted. Maybe you’re in shock or something?”
“Did you see it?” I demanded anxiously.
“See what? All I saw was you hit the chair then collapse forward. I dove to keep you from smashing your pretty face against the tile,” Joe stated as he still gripped my shoulder, keeping me upright when I wobbled.
“The last letter. I must have dropped it.” I was nearing panic. My heart raced and sweat trickled down my spine.
“Here it is.” Rayne stood from where she’d bent under the table and handed the note to Joe.
“What the hell?” Joe thundered, crumpling the note in his fist.
“Do you think that means she knows where Izzy is, or do you think she’s just effing with me?” I tried to stand.
I needed to move. To do something. Not sit here helplessly.
Joe pressed me back in the chair. “It could be she’s bluffing. But is that really a risk you want to take? Would you put Izzy in danger like that?”
Sighing in defeat, my shoulders slumped forward. “No. I’d never risk her safety. But I also don’t want to sabotage my chances of getting her back either. Is there any way you can send
a guy to keep an eye on her? Her apartment building requires a code to get in and has a doorman. She’d only need watching when she leaves, which she’s not doing much of since she’s preparing for her show.”
“I’ll send Ty and Deric.” He grabbed his phone and started tapping on it. Watching his large fingers fly across the screen was a sight to behold. Looking up, he caught my eye. “But I still think you should tell her.”
“I will when the time is right. Just make sure they stick to her. I’ll cover all their expenses. Get them there as soon as possible. Tonight, if there are flights,” I demanded.
“On it,” he confirmed.
The front door clattered open and voices filled the cavernous area at the front of the house.
“Hope you fixed dinner, D,” Jett shouted.
“That boy is always hungry,” Rayne commented just as the guys descended on us in the kitchen.
“Sweetheart, I ain’t no boy.” He flexed his muscles, making her blush and turn away.
I folded the letters back up and stuck them on the counter. Shaking the worry from my mind, I greeted my bandmates with bro hugs.
“Did you get egg rolls?” Wilder asked.
“Does a fat hog fart?” I asked incredulously.
“Did you just call him a fat hog fart?” Joe boomed with laughter.
“No, man, it’s a saying. Like do one-legged ducks swim in circles or does a bear crap in the woods or is a frog’s butt water tight,” I explained with a laugh.
“Oh, I got it. I need to remember that one,” he said with a chuckle.
“So, yes there are egg rolls,” I said and started to open the containers lining the counter, announcing each one as I did. “And noodles and rice and General Tso’s chicken and crab Rangoon and sesame chicken and beef with broccoli and pot stickers. Dig in.”
Stepping out of the way, I watched as my friends filled their plates. With dishes piled high with Asian cuisine, we made our way to the living room.
For a few moments the only sounds were forks scraping plates, ice clinking, moans of satisfaction, and Wilder’s noisy eating behaviors.
Songs of the Heart: Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 3 Page 10
