“All the producers and sound engineers have come up clean, brother,” Colt relayed down the phone. “Checked the interns, the receptionist. Hell, I even did a deep dive on the cleaning ladies. All good.”
I stared out of the glass bi-fold doors into Saint’s backyard, where she was sitting on a sun lounger, scribbling on a notepad. “That helps. They’re mainly in the rehearsal studio this week. They’ve got an industry party tomorrow night, but it’s a closed-door event for Dischordium’s new release. Carbine keeps his shit tight, and he knows what’s goin’ on with Saint, so he’s no doubt already alerted his band’s security.”
“That fucker will probably carry and conceal himself,” Colt muttered. “He thinks the world of Saint.”
My eyebrows pulled together. “Huh?”
“Yeah,” Colt confirmed. “You think he’d have gone to all this trouble for her if he didn’t? Noah raves about her. Says Saint, along with Maeve O’Shea, are the coolest chicks he’s ever met.”
“Blue De Santis can’t stand her,” I pointed out.
Colt snorted. “Blue De Santis probably tried to get into Saint’s pants and got told to fuck off. He’s a whinylittle fucker, has been since the band hit the big time. The fucker’s ego’s through the roof these days.”
“That’s what he said about Saint,” I murmured, almost to myself.
“I’d take everything Blue says with a grain of salt,” Colt advised. “I’d hardly call him the fount of knowledge when it comes to treating women well.”
One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “True.”
Saint’s brow furrowed in concentration, a lock of hair fell over one eye, and I smiled as she tucked it behind her ear, engrossed in her writing. “Can you check out the record execs next? Her stalker knows where she lives, but it’s not easy information to get. Saint keeps her life on the down-low. She doesn’t go to the opening of an envelope or court publicity. I can’t shake the feeling there’s more to this.”
“I’m already working on it,” he confirmed. “Not found anything solid yet. I’ll keep digging, and I’ve sent the images to the profilers. They’ve already started to build a background, and they’ll step that up as soon as the originals get delivered.”
The second I saw the topless shots of Saint, a knot formed in my stomach that hadn’t unraveled yet. The attention was unhealthy and sinister, and although she was putting on a brave face, I could see how much it had shaken her up.
“How’s things there?” Colt asked.
“Worked in shittier places,” I relayed. “Saint’s house is on the beach. I’m surrounded by bikini-clad babes, rock bands, music, and showbiz parties. It ain’t bad.”
“It’s fake as fuck,” he corrected.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “It is. Still, I’m here to do a job, and I’ll do it to the best of my abilities. Just wish we’d been called in before all this. I can’t help feeling that management left it a little late to call in reinforcements. We could have been ahead of all this.”
“You think Talia Fields is behind it?” Colt asked.
“I’m not ruling anyone out. I don’t get the gut feeling Talia’s to blame, but who knows? This industry is crazy.”
“Those gifts are sexual, so it’s either a gay woman or a male. It’s definitely somebody who fantasizes about Saint.”
“That rules Talia out then,” I mused. “She’s straight.”
“She could swing both ways,” Colt said. “Look, I’m playing devil’s advocate here. My gut tells me it’s a guy. I don’t think you’ve anything to worry about with Talia Fields, though I agree it’s weird she waited so long to get Saint some help.”
“In her defense, they must get a lot of this. It’s a different world, brother. I know you grew up rich as Midas, but fame is a whole other ball game. Talia told me that initially, the letters and gifts were nothing out of the ordinary. Certainly not weird enough to call in specialists. As soon as shit got worrisome, she made moves to protect the band.”
I pushed off the door frame, my eyes still fixated on Saint as her eyes dropped to her notepad, and she jotted something down. “Thanks for checking, Colt. Keep me posted.”
“Goes without sayin’, brother. Later,” he replied before ending the call.
I slipped my phone back into my suit jacket, my eyes still glued to the woman whose face had haunted me for two years.
Seeing Saint again affected me in ways I couldn’t explain. Just functioning like a normal person around her took every piece of self-control I had.
Jesus Christ, I wanted to kiss her, ached for it, but I had to ignore the urge and keep her at arm’s length.
Over time, I’d tried to convince myself that I’d exaggerated the connection I felt for her, that maybeI’d inflated its significance to fill the void Allie left, but seeing Saint again and feeling the pull between us shattered the lie.
She was spectacular.
