Chapter 14
Mason woke early after a very short night of sleep. He’d hated climbing out of the warm bed with Cassidy all soft and snug in his embrace, but he wanted to be up and out of her room when Sawyer and Harlow woke. They wouldn’t judge him, but he still thought it best he kept everything professional. He’d just started a pot of coffee in the kitchenette when Sawyer slipped out of his room.
“Morning. Did you get any sleep?”
Sawyer yawned and stretched his back. “Not much. Harlow had a rough time. This hit her hard. She finally fell asleep around two.” His eyes narrowed. “What’s that?”
Mason followed his gaze to the door where a piece of unassuming white paper rested on the floor. A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach had him moving quickly. He grabbed a tissue from a box on a side table before bending down to pick it up. You can’t hide from me Cassidy. I will find you. Always.
“Son of a bitch,” Sawyer muttered.
Mason refrained from balling up the note and hurling it across the room. “He did not follow us last night. I’d stake my life on it. Whoever it is has to be tracking her somehow.”
“Maybe her phone?”
“It’s possible.” A thought struck. “We could try to set the person up. They know she’ll be at the auditorium today. If we give the phone to Detective Parsa after the show, and the perp’s monitoring her moves, he could walk right into a trap.”
“Good idea. We also need to get a look at the security footage to see who delivered the note. I’ll call the manager now.” While Sawyer made the call, Mason sent a text to their office. They’d need to find new accommodations since their location had been compromised.
Sawyer disconnected. “They’re keying up the footage now.”
“You stay here. I’ll go down and take a look.”
He left Sawyer to watch over the women while he jogged down the stairs to the security offices. He had too much pent-up energy to ride the elevator. He introduced himself to Phil, the man in charge. There were a dozen monitors in the room and Phil had the footage keyed to the time Sawyer gave him over the phone. He fast-forwarded the screen showing the hallway in front of their room, stopping when people came into view. One couple wandered down the hall, groping each other obscenely. Mason cleared his throat and Phil gave him a sheepish look before fast-forwarding again. A while later, a man wearing a hat, reading a newspaper wandered down the hall.
“Stop here.”
The man looked up from the paper to scan the room numbers, his face in clear view. He’d studied pictures of Barry Nelson and unless the man had changed his hair color, grown a few inches, and packed on fifty pounds, this wasn’t him. The man paused in front of their door, glanced at his key and then turned to the room across the hall before disappearing inside.
Phil sped up the film again but quickly hit pause when another shape came into view. This person wore a heavy black sweatshirt with the hood covering a hat pulled low on the face, hands stuffed in the front pockets. He or she—it was impossible to tell the gender—kept their head down, only glancing up when they came to the room, but not enough to get an image of the face. It happened quickly, but the person removed their gloved hand from the pocket and slid the letter under the door before walking briskly down the corridor and disappearing down the stairs.
“Based on the time frame, can you pull up footage from other cameras?”
“Sure can.” Phil manipulated the monitors and they watched as the figure came into view from the street and headed directly for the elevator, never once looking up. Mason still couldn’t tell the gender based on the walk. Phil keyed the footage from the stairwell, showing the person descending steps, then shots from the lobby. They watched the person walk right out the door and into the night.
Damn. There was no way to get a description. He’d send a text to Tyler to see if he could access traffic cam feeds, but he wasn’t hopeful. This person had been very cautious. He’d outwitted them at every turn. He might think he was smart, but sooner or later, he’d make a mistake and they’d catch him. Mason had to believe that.
#
Despite all that happened last night, Cassidy woke excited, even hopeful for the new day. Opening nights were a whirlwind of activity from the time they arrived at the studio to the moment the curtain fell to end the show.
She’d known Mason was gone as soon as she opened her eyes. He’d held her all night and kept the nightmares at bay. She wouldn’t have been able to rest without his strong presence. At first, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to sleep because of the overwhelming attraction she felt for him. Being surrounded by him only intensified the feelings. But an adrenalin crash had her falling into a deep slumber.
She’d been shocked to learn that a threatening note had been slipped under the door while they slept. How had they found her? Mason had been hyper-vigilant driving to the hotel. He relayed their concern about her phone and while she hated to lose another one, she would rather they catch the person responsible.
Mason had surprised her by suggesting they head to the hotel workout room to jog on treadmills since running outside was out. Sawyer and Harlow had accompanied them to the facility that was fully equipped with several machines and free weights. When they returned to the suite, Harlow called for room service while they packed up their belongings to vacate the hotel. She wasn’t sure where they’d stay tonight, but she trusted Mason to take care of the details.
Sawyer and Harlow led the way to the studio, with her and Mason following behind. As soon as they parked, she recognized Glen Benson waiting for them. It’d been over two years since she’d seen him, but he was still tall, blond and handsome. She jumped out and ran to him. He’d been so good to her when she first arrived on set. He’d taken her under his wing. She’d even had dinner at his house with his beautiful wife and adorable twin sons. They were the reason he’d stopped dancing on the show. He wanted to spend more time with his family. Glen owned a dance studio on a smaller scale than what she was looking to build, but she hoped to pick his brain when the time came to open her academy.
“Glen!”
“Cass, it’s so good to see you.”
She hugged him before stepping back to introduce the others. “Glen, this is your partner, Harlow Oldham.”
Harlow flashed a radiant smile and had to jerk twice to free her arm from Sawyer to shake Glen’s hand. “Mr. Benson, it is such an honor to meet you.”
“It’s Glen, and it’s my honor to meet you, Harlow. I’ve studied the tapes and you’re talented. I’m confident I’ve memorized the routine. Also, I know you’re never supposed to talk politics, but my wife and I both voted for your grandmother.”
“She would love that. She’s a huge fan of the show.” At the not-so-subtle clearing of the throat, she turned and reached for Sawyer. “This is my husband, Sawyer.”
They shook hands and Cassidy noticed Sawyer had relaxed at Glen’s mention of his wife.
“Glen, this is my…” how did she describe Mason? Not boyfriend, unfortunately. They hadn’t known each other long enough to be called friends. Object of my affection? Man of my dreams? Soulmate? “Bodyguard.”
“Nice to meet you, Mason,” Glen said as they shook. “Cass, I’m so sorry you need a bodyguard. I heard rumors of it possibly being Barry Nelson? There was always something a little off about him.”
“He’s a suspect, but the cops haven’t been able to locate him to question him.”
“You know he and Marcus hated each other. They got into an argument a few years back and Barry threatened to get Marcus kicked off the show, while Marcus did the same. Russell forced them to make up or he’d kick both off the show. They reached a truce, but it was tenuous at best.”
“I forgot about that.” She turned to Mason. “They did hate each other.”
“I’ll make sure to let Detective Parsa know.”
“Cass-a-deee!”
She turned to see Trey whirling his way over with a box step here and a ball chan
ge there, a huge smile splitting his face. “So excited for tonight!”
She hugged her eager partner. He reminded her of an energetic puppy. She introduced him to Glen and then they all made their way inside for a last-minute practice before preparations started for opening night.
Chapter 15
The morning and early afternoon had been non-stop from the moment they arrived on set. Last-minute preparations were in full swing and Mason learned quickly to stay the heck out of the way. He’d left a message for Detective Parsa with a quick explanation of their plan for Cassidy’s phone. Parsa texted back that he would stop by the studio to pick it up as soon as he could get away.
Cassidy had been worried when Colin didn’t show up, but he finally arrived looking haggard and sullen, and though he was civil to Mason, he didn’t go out of his way to chat.
Glen Benson had not only memorized the routine Marcus choreographed, he’d proved to be an excellent partner to Harlow. Both women were getting their hair and makeup touched up.
It was now an hour before the show started and the audience was filling the auditorium. The seating capacity was right around one thousand, counting the two balconies. The Audience Producer doled out seats to dignitaries, VIP’s and other assorted individuals and groups. Each of the dancers were allotted ten spots per show for family and friends. The remaining seats were filled by eager fans who stood in line, some for hours, for a chance to see their favorite show live and in person.
Beep, beep, beep.
Mason winced and covered his ears at the piercing sound. He glanced first at Sawyer, who shrugged, and then at the box directly above his head that emitted the offending noise. A light on the bottom blinked red. Static crackled and then an announcement broadcast through the speaker.
Attention, please. Attention please. Evacuate the building immediately. Move to the nearest exits in an orderly fashion. This is not a drill. Attention, please. Attention, please. Evacuate the building immediately. Move to the nearest exits in an orderly fashion. This is not a drill.
Sawyer pushed from the wall. “What the hell?”
“Stay here. I’ll find out what’s going on.” Mason hustled inside the arena to complete and utter chaos. People were yelling and screaming, completely ignoring the orderly fashion bit of the message as they pushed and shoved their way to the nearest exit. He helped up a woman wearing ridiculously high heels from the floor before she was trampled. He felt like a salmon swimming upstream but finally located Russell barking orders to one of his assistants.
“What’s going on?”
“Bomb threat.”
The word bomb had Mason swaying on his feet. He’d been caught in a bomb blast a few weeks ago and he still felt the effects.
“We were ordered to evacuate immediately. The dancers and celebrities should retreat to their trailers until further notice. I’m trying to get the crew out.”
Mason suddenly understood the rush to get out of the building. He had the same urge to get to Cassidy as soon as possible, and he might end up pushing and shoving anyone who got in his way.
He found Sawyer where he left him. Grabbing his arm, he toted him along as he explained what was happening. They almost plowed over Harlow and Cassidy, who’d come looking for them. He released Sawyer to grab Cassidy, while Sawyer did the same with Harlow. They hustled everyone to Cassidy’s trailer, with Glen, Trey and Colin coming along as well. It was crowded with seven people.
Detective Parsa texted him that he’d arrived. Mason texted back where to meet. Excusing himself, he stepped outside and waited for the detective to arrive. The area was packed with show personnel evacuating the auditorium. Sirens were wailing and fire trucks were surrounding the lot. He spotted Parsa and motioned him over.
“Bomb threat,” he told the detective.
“I know. It came from Cassidy Swain’s phone.”
Mason jerked back. “What? It’s been locked in her trailer the entire time.”
“That’s not all. We found Marcus Howe’s phone. There were several text messages between him and Cassidy…er, her phone,” he amended at Mason’s dark look. “It was initiated by Cassidy’s phone, begging him for a reconciliation and inviting him to her house. They went back and forth, with Howe eventually agreeing to meet her.”
“It’s a set up. I’ve been with her the entire time.”
“I know, but look at it from my point of view. You have to admit it doesn’t look good.”
Mason’s hands curled into fists. “I don’t care what it looks like. Someone is setting her up. The message left at the hotel last night proves it.”
“I’m not arguing with you,” Parsa said, his palms out in a calm down gesture. Mason realized he’d been shouting.
“Sorry.”
Parsa nodded. “I like your plan of taking the phone and setting a trap. Let’s hope it works.”
“Mason?” Cassidy stuck her head outside. “Did I hear that the bomb threat came from my phone?”
Damn, he should’ve closed the window before stepping outside.
“Yes,” Detective Parsa answered before he could.
She descended the steps and stood by Mason. “I didn’t do it.”
“I believe you. An app was used to disguise the voice. Do you have the phone?”
“I’ll get it.”
While she went to fetch the cell, Sawyer came outside. Mason filled him in on the bomb threat and the text exchange with Howe.
“We’ve been with her the entire time,” Sawyer reiterated to Parsa. “There’s no need to question her because she didn’t do this.”
Mason felt a surge of warmth at Sawyer’s defense of Cassidy. She wasn’t his, but she felt like it.
“I understand. I’ll have forensics go over her phone with a fine-tooth comb.”
#
Kellan Polizzi stowed his tray and adjusted his seat to the upright position in anticipation of landing at Los Angeles International Airport. He was anxious to begin his first assignment as an official agent of COBRA Securities.
Earlier today, he’d met with his bosses Luke Colton and Logan Bradley. They explained what was happening with a case in LA. Originally, Sawyer Oldham and Mason Rossi had been protecting Harlow Duquesne Oldham, the granddaughter of the President of the United States and Sawyer’s wife, as she competed on a reality dance program. Then one of the other dancers had been threatened, and Mason was hired by the studio to protect her. The attacks were ramping up, and Luke and Logan wanted to add another agent to assist both men however necessary.
He was excited to get started. Though Harlow hadn’t been in any danger, several attempts had been made on Cassidy Swain’s life. Kellan had memorized the files on the flight and he was up to speed. He’d take his direction from the two men who’d been agents longer.
He glanced out a window at the skyline of Los Angeles as they banked right. He always took an aisle seat and usually requested an emergency exit row so he’d have more leg room, but BeBe Davis, the office manager, had booked him a first class seat. He didn’t complain. Plenty of leg room.
The flight landed without incident and he grabbed his bag from the overhead compartment. Following airline protocol, he’d had to check his gun, which made him antsy. He didn’t like being without his weapon. The pretty brunette attendant who had flirted with him throughout the flight tucked a piece of paper in the pocket of his black polo shirt with a wink. He smiled at her as he followed the other passengers to baggage claim. He appreciated the interest, but he was here to do a job. He didn’t have time to indulge in extracurricular activities.
As per office regulation, he wore a Kevlar vest beneath his black polo. It was lightweight and not too bulky, so it wasn’t obvious he had it on. Khaki tactical pants and a pair of work boots made up his outfit. It was the unwritten dress code of the agents, he’d come to learn. Another perk of the job. He hated wearing suits every day when he was a detective.
Another bonus of first class was being one of the first to arrive at the baggag
e claim carousel. He parked himself by the opening where the luggage would descend so he didn’t have to wait for his bag to make the leisurely journey along the slow-moving conveyor belt.
As was his luck, his suitcase must’ve been on the bottom. He was beginning to think it’d been rerouted to Milwaukee or something. Finally, the aluminum hard shell case came sliding down. He grabbed it, lifted the handle and strode to the exit. BeBe had a car waiting for him, so he didn’t need to stand in line at the rental counter.
He slipped his sunglasses on in deference to the bright California sun. Two beautiful blonds in tight t-shirts and teeny shorts walked by, both flashing him seductive, perfectly-white grins. He smiled back. Though he wasn’t here for fun in the sun, he still appreciated the exquisite scenery.
#
Cassidy inhaled deeply to calm her racing heartbeat. Her phone had been used to call in the bomb threat and to lure Marcus Howe to his death. How was she supposed to live with that knowledge? And what if Detective Parsa decided to arrest her? She’d never had so much as a parking ticket in her life.
Despite the worry, she needed to keep her focus for Trey’s sake. He deserved her full attention. She had nothing to do with either the threat or the murder, so theoretically, she shouldn’t be distracted. Opening night had been delayed by an hour as the bomb squad, complete with explosive detection dogs, thoroughly searched the auditorium. It’d been deemed clear and the audience who had stuck around were reseated.
The delay gave them time to run through the routine a couple more times. Trey had it nailed, and she had no doubt it would earn high scores. The added time also provided Harlow and Glen a chance to bond and cement their partnership. She’d watched one of their practices and they were perfectly matched. Glen had memorized the routine and he and Harlow moved in perfect synchronicity. Glen was actually a better match for Harlow than Marcus. They would get high scores, too.
Another stress to add to her list was Colin. He’d arrived just before the bomb threat and though she feared an awkwardness, he’d seemed to want to put the whole episode behind them. He hugged her and told her he was leaving as soon as the police released his car and asked her to keep in touch. She felt bad, but she didn’t want to lead him on. She would never feel the same way for him, but she didn’t want to lose their easy friendship. They’d grown up together, been through so much, good and bad. He’d been supportive when she had to put her fifteen-year old dog to sleep when his organs began failing. She’d stood by his side when his father passed away. Though they’d drifted apart over the last few years, he’d always be one of her best friends.
Last Dance (COBRA Securities Book 14) Page 13
