I make a move to roll off the sidewalk to get away. The pale man lunges for me. That’s when I see another person.Oh, no. Not a second person. But this person pushes the ghostly figure away from me. I hear the sound of bodies falling to the ground and then a clinking sound. What is that noise? Are they fighting? I try to sit up but I can’t get my body to listen to my muddled brain. When the two people break apart, the ghostly man stands.He looks at me before he starts to run. His expression is hateful. Evil. Then I hear a gravelly whisper say, “Slut.”
As the sound of his footsteps grow quiet, I look up and say, “Bobby?”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
MISSING PERSON
“Where are you, MacKenzie?”I whisper.
“Boss? Is she here yet?”
“No. She wasn’t sure she was going to come, but I asked her to text me either way. The show’s nearly over, and I haven’t heard from her.”
“Let me look at the footage from her place. Maybe that’ll tell us something.”
“Good idea.” I’m worried, but I’m trying not to panic.
I walk the back hallways, checking. Checking everything, like the whereabouts of Shyanne’s hangers-on and what the little assholes are up to. Half of my job is checking and rechecking that things are running smoothly. I’ve had to deal with Jesse, the problem child in Shyanne’s entourage, once already. None of that group even bothers to watch the show. They all just sit in the greenroom eating her food and drinking her booze. Everyone stays put except for fucking Jesse. Contained, they don’t cause any problems. Jesse is the wild card. An hour ago, I found him trying to sweet-talk his way into the box office, claiming he was Shyanne’s manager. I literally grabbed him by the back of his T-shirt and told him if he left the greenroom again, I was going tohave him removed from the premises permanently. Jackass. He did what I told him to, but I won’t hold my breath he’ll stay put.
“Boss?”
“Yep,” I reply to Gill.
“Watched her enter her place at five thirty. She left again at seven twelve.”
Shit. I’m assuming she was heading this way, so, “Where is she?”
“Maybe she had other plans. Was she going to see that hot friend of hers, Lauren?”
“That’s possible.” Maybe she’s with Lauren and they’re out having fun. I pull my phone out of my inside breast pocket and send a quick text off to Lauren.
Me: This is Sam. Is MacKenzie with you?”
I wait only a few minutes when she replies.
Lauren: No. Why? Is she talking to you now, or are you just harassing her?
Me: Yes. No. You haven’t spoken to her?
Lauren: Not since Wednesday. Why? What’s going on?
Me: She was supposed to meet me at the United Center for a concert. She didn’t show. Thought she might be with you.
Lauren: No. You try calling her?
Me: Yes. Text, too.
Lauren: Let me try.
I wait several minutes before my phone rings.
“She didn’t answer. Her voice mail kicked in. Are you sure she was going to meet you?”
“No.” I’m not about to tell her I’ve put cameras on MacKenzie’s place. “She said she’d let me know if she decided not to come. That’s why I’m worried.”
“Oh, geez, Sam. I’m worried, too. She’s good at following through on stuff like that. She knows how muchIworry about that neighborhood of hers.”
“Is there anywhere else she’d go? Anyone else she’d meet up with?”
