At least the hotel room had been upgraded from a standard to a suite, and all that had taken was sweet-talking the pretty receptionist at the hotel front desk. Bryce could charm almost anyone into giving him what he wanted, but it was always more mentally exhausting than his old method of acquiring things. But it was legal, and he was committed to legalities now. Mostly.
The upgraded room had a kitchenette and a living room, and the exercise room next to the lobby looked clean and well-kept. He planned to wake up early to run on the treadmill and lift weights. He nixed the initial plan of running in town every morning after feeling the sweltering heat as he walked across the airport parking lot to the rental car pick-up kiosk. He’d never been so thankful for air conditioning as he sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the vents on full blast. But even with the AC on, the back of his shirt was soaked by the time he got to the hotel. He had changed into a clean, dry shirt and headed over to the address Rusty had given him for Hayley Wild’s estate.
Bryce liked the neighborhood as soon as he turned into the gated community. It oozed money and taste, two things which did not always go hand in hand. A scripted monogram adorned the brick wall beside the guard house, and a wrought iron fence slid slowly to the side after Bryce gave his name and credentials to the gate attendant, who checked his driver’s license against the permitted guest list.
So far, so goodin terms of security, Bryce observed.
A gated community was a good choice for a young pop star, with fans who didn’t always know how to separate fantasy from reality. He followed the car’s GPS as he navigated the winding streets past sprawling mansions on acre-sized lots. The houses had mostly probably been built in the 70’s, but the walls had enough ivy and vines to look like they’d been there for centuries, like the homes of old European royalty Bryce admired in library books when he was a kid. Bryce also noted security cameras on roof corners, gated driveways, and at least one security detail stationed in a car outside of a driveway so long, Bryce couldn’t see the house from the street. Rusty had briefed him Hayley wasn’t the only star to call this neighborhood home; at least two other country music singers lived here year-round, and one movie star originally from the area kept a house here, as well as in LA.
Bryce turned right at a large pond, half-smothered with duckweed, onto a long drive lined by oak trees. Hayley Wild’s driveway.
His muscles tightened, and Bryce had to remind himself to breathe and focus on doing his job. He scanned the trees for signs of security: cameras, sensors, flood lights, but didn’t note anything. The house grew before him, a traditional southern farmhouse revival with dormer windows, wrap-around front porch, and thick, green ferns hanging between white, fluted columns. A row of rocking chairs flanked the front door, each tilting lazily from the breeze of the whirling fans overhead.
Bryce pulled to a stop, got out and locked the car and checked for any sign of security systems as he walked up the cobbled path to the front door. He noted one outdated camera from the late 1980’s pointed at the front door. A camera that large and conspicuous was easy to hack, if even connected to the Wi-Fi, and even easier to dislodge or just shoot out if someone wanted access without being identified. A bird could land on it and point it skyward.
Bryce squinted closer. A bird had actually built a nest in the eaves just above the camera. Bryce wondered if the camera still even worked, or if it’d come with the house and never been taken down.
He was glad for the distraction of the appalling security measures; it steered his mind from his nerves at standing in front of Hayley Wild’s front door. Of course, for all he knew, she was away on a singing gig or at a studio somewhere recording new tracks. Even if she was home, Bryce’s job was to figure out who her cyber stalker was and to plug the holes in her digital security network. He would hardly be needed as an actual bodyguard.
He sighed, suddenly jealous of the other guys on the Redmond team, who were strictly on physical detail for their clients – no being locked away in server rooms with cameras and screens. They’d get to stand close to Hayley. He balled his fist and released it again, a technique he’d learned to try and calm himself when his insecurities or nerves got the better of him. He dropped his shoulders back to their widest point, strode up the cobblestone walk and then stepped onto the front porch, wishing he could sit in one of the rocking chairs with its inviting throw pillow and overhead breeze to rock the hot afternoon away. He could see the appeal of a front porch in the south, now that he was here. He held his breath as he knocked, then waited.
A woman wearing a black polo with the embroidered name of a housekeeping company opened the door. Bryce tried not to grimace at how easily this woman could be overtaken by a potential intruder. A celebrity with a stalker like Hayley, shouldn’t have a housekeeper opening her front door; a security person should be monitoring everyone coming and going.
But Bryce smiled, his white teeth bright like his starched shirt. “I’m Bryce Thompson, from Redmond Security Group.” Bryce held up his employee badge with his photo and name for the woman to see. “I’m here to meet with Hayley Wild’s security detail. We have an appointment at 3 PM.”
The woman checked her watch and nodded. “Come in,” she said, holding the door wider. “They’re in the study.” She ushered him in, before pointing to a room just off the marble-tiled foyer. “You can leave your shoes there,” she added, gesturing at a boot tray by a closet.
Bryce thanked her as he mopped a sheen of sweat from his forehead. Just standing outside in Mississippi, even in the shade, made him sweat from head to toe. He was glad he’d ditched the blazer at the hotel, though he now wished he could loosen his tie. He slipped off his shoes and took in the house. When he was still living at home, he couldn’t imagine anyone younger than forty owning a house like this. This was a house for someone who’d had time to amass money, and had a big family. Not for a young twenty-something, or so he used to think. Sometimes, his naïve, unworldly twelve-year-old self still reared up inside his subconscious, in awe of the world he now found himself in.
The foyer opened up directly to an expansive living room, with a wall of sliding doors overlooking a patio and pool. The furniture in the living room was oversized and comfortable looking, and a teenage girl lounged on a royal blue sectional sofa, eyes glued to her phone. This had to be Valerie - Rusty had given Bryce the run-down on the people in Hayley’s life before he’d left. Valerie was Hayley’s little sister, and both she and their mom lived with Hayley. Hayley’s parents were estranged, and her father now lived in St. Paul.
From what Bryce had caught glimpses of in tabloids, Hayley’s father was not a nice man, and Hayley’s success had enabled her mother to escape his violent mood swings.
Bryce set his shoes neatly on a shoe rack beside two other pairs of men’s black loafers, women’s sneakers, and a stack of colorful flip flops. He steeled himself, forcing star-struck thoughts that he was actually in Hayley Wild’s house from his mind. It was time to be a grownup, stern, and professional. It was a travesty that a rising pop star had set up such a lax security system for herself and her family in the first place. The girl needed to be sat down and told the facts about the real world, and all of the crazy people who inhabited it - some of whom were dangerous. It was time to solidify the reputation Redmond Security Group had been amassing as the best in the business, and even more importantly, his own reputation as the best in the business of cyber security. He bowed his shoulders back and stood tall.
Two older men sat in roller chairs in the study the housekeeper had pointed Bryce towards. They stood when Bryce entered. They were muscular, with buzzed hair and crisply ironed shirts and slacks. Clearly ex-military. Bryce figured these must be Rusty’s friends from Camp Shelby, who now ran the private security firm here in the south.
“Bryce Thompson?” the first man asked. Bryce nodded as the man shook his hand. “Nash Gerrick. This is my colleague, Steve Henley.”
Bryce shook both men’s hands and took the chair opposite them as they closed the doors. The study was equal parts opulent and cozy, just like the rest of the house. Paneled bookcases rose to the ceiling, with shelves filled with encyclopedias, novels, and framed photos. A spelling bee trophy made out to Valerie sat proudly in the middle of the center shelf. Bryce wondered where Hayley displayed her Grammy awards. If he had won Best New Artist as Hayley had last year, he would have placed it front and center in the foyer for everyone to see. But there wasn’t a whiff of Hayley’s accomplishments in this room, beside the cost and quality of the décor. Bryce leaned back against an overstuffed throw pillow and took out his tablet to take notes. In any other setting, he’d have felt strange not wearing his shoes, but in Hayley’s house, it felt natural. He wondered if she made people as comfortable as her home did. Maybe making peopletoocomfortable was how she got a stalker in the first place.
“Thank you for coming all this way,” Nash said. “Rusty said you’re the best in cyber security.”
“I’ll remind him of that on my next performance review,” Bryce said.
Nash grinned. “How is Rusty?”
“I’d say he’s married to his job but that could change soon,” Bryce replied. “I think he’s pretty happy these days with his girlfriend, Kaylin.”
“That serious, huh?” Steve said. “I’m looking forward to meeting the girl who pinned Rusty down the next time we visit the east coast.”
“And I’m looking forward to meeting the girl who can put up with him,” Nash added. “Is he still into…”
“Nerd stuff?” Bryce finished. “Of course. He’s found his match in Kaylin. Mostly. She’s not into his ten mile runs and rabbit food. But, they make it work.”
“Good to hear it,” Steve said. “And again, glad you’re here.”
“We’ve done an audit of Hayley’s current security measures – which are minimal – and wanted to share those with you, along with the extent of the threats she’s recently received.” Nash leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Ms. Wild is unaware of the full extent of the threats, per the request of her mother. She doesn’t want Hayley or her sister to live in fear.”
