Well that was true. Crap. Think, Addison, think. She really didn't want to have to participate in this conversation longer than absolutely necessary. “Well I think you do wonderful things for this orchestra, Erica, even if the others don't see it.”
“You do?” Erica said, lifting her tear drenched face to look at Addison.
“Y… es!” Addison said, thinking frantically. “Just look at that gorgeous red dress you put me in for the Spring performance. It was a stroke of genius. Maestro loved it! I loved it! Would I spend all this time with you if I didn’t think you were an amazing person? Come on, Erica, we’re friends.”
“Really?” Erica sniffled.
“Of course we are,” Addison said firmly, squeezing her hand.
Erica launched herself across the desk and hugged Addison hard around the neck. It was about forty-five seconds later that the hug started to turn inappropriate and awkward, especially when Erica started running her hands up and down Addison’s back. Addison cleared her throat and tried to move sideways off the chair. Erica followed her until they were both sitting on the chair.
“Uh, Erica, I really need to get going now,” Addison said, gently trying to push the other woman back.
“Oh, of course,” Erica said, and much to Addison’s relief, released her. “Can I give you a ride home?”
Addison really wanted to say no, but after Erica’s crying episode didn’t think she could politely decline and still call herself a friend. She rather thought Erica was a little unstable. She agreed to let Erica give her a ride and vowed to discuss the possibility of getting her professional help with the Maestro. She stood and reached for her cello, sighing heavily as Erica seized her arm in a hard grip.
Daniel picked up the satellite phone on the second ring. He was somewhere over Honduras, flying back to the United States after a very successful meeting with Colombian drug lord, Javier Bastida. He’d already talked at length to DeLuca and wasn’t expecting any calls. The only person that could be calling him on King’s personal line, on King’s personal jet was Tyson King himself.
“Mercer,” King’s deep voice was urgent and clipped. “I have Jane Sitnikov here. She needs to talk to you urgently.”
What the fuck could the Sitnikov bitch need with him?
Daniel grunted his assent and waited.
“Mercer,” her feminine voice sounded about as pleased to be talking to him as he was to hear from her.
“What do want?” he demanded.
“Just shut the fuck up and listen you bastard,” she snarled into the phone. “I like this about as much as you do me, but I’m not about to let my client die because you’re a woman choking asshole. Addison hired me to find out who her stalker is, and I figured it out this morning. I’ve been all over this damn city looking for her so I could warn her, but I can’t find her anywhere. I’m afraid I might be too late, Daniel.”
Daniel froze, trying to process what Jane was telling him. It took him a moment to realize they must have him on speakerphone when King was demanding to know if he was still there and if he’d heard Jane. “Yes, I’m here,” he growled. “What do you mean, stalker?”
“Oh, you thought you were her only stalker?” Jane asked, snarkily. “Get in line, baby boy.”
Daniel really wished he’d kept choking when he’d had her fragile neck in his arms a few months earlier. “Just tell me about this fucking stalker.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “It started several months ago with emails and phone calls. Pretty innocent stuff, just straight up admiration fan mail. It only freaked Addison out a little because they had her personal cell number and email. She changed her number but they got her new one. Then the calls and letters began increasing in frequency. It wasn’t until you entered the picture that the threats began. When it became clear that she was no longer single, the letters and calls took on a sinister edge, often mentioning death… things like how her music would live on, even after she died. Then there was the attack in the alley.”
“What?!” Daniel exploded.
“You didn’t know about that?” Jane asked innocently and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a little smugly. “Her stalker cornered her in the alley behind the symphony hall when she was on a break, whispered “play for me” right in her face and then chased her into traffic. She could have been killed if the Maestro hadn’t pulled her out of the street.”
“She went to you for help?” Daniel asked, helpless fury at the situation raging through him. It was probably a good thing he was trapped on a fucking airplane, because if he could get his hands on Addison at that moment he would probably beat her senseless for not telling him she was in trouble.
He was angry at himself too. How had he not known she had a stalker? Hell, he’d seen the fucking scrapes all over her body when the freak had chased her into traffic. He’d known she was lying to him. Yet he was so intent on getting his dick wet that he ignored the warning signs and let the woman that meant more to him than his own life get hurt. He knew all along that Addison fucked with his head and this proved it.
“Yup, she hired me to track this sicko down,” Jane confirmed. “Of course, you were top of my suspect list, but she refused to let me shoot first and ask questions later. I think she’s attached to you or something equally stupid.”
Daniel ignored her. “What do you mean, you can’t find her?”
Jane’s voice grew serious. “I’ve looked everywhere I know to look, Mercer. She’s not at home and she’s not answering her phone. She’s not at the orchestra either. No one saw her leave and some of her musician friends said it was unusual for her to leave without saying good-bye. Her cello was still there too, which seems unusual, unless she was going back for it. I left Boris there, just in case she does go back. But Daniel, the part that really scares me is… the suspect wasn’t there either.”
Daniel felt like his heart stopped. “Who is it?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Addison got hesitantly out of the vehicle and breathed in the crisp, woodsy, mid-afternoon air, confused. Erica came around the car, grabbed her arm excitedly and began leading her forcefully away from the car, despite Addison’s hesitant steps. The coins on Addison’s sandals jingled as Erica pulled her along.
