With all that happened today, he figured the art lessons would be off the table for a while, but maybe he was wrong. “I’ll tell you later. I need to take this.”
“Fine. Keep me posted.”
Hanging up with Jayla, he switched over. “Chloe? What’s up?”
A few beats of silence, and he wondered if the call got disconnected before he heard her say, “Hey.” Clearing her throat, she asked, “Can you talk?” There was a subdued quality to her voice, so unlike her usual bright and cheery personality.
Erik set his keys down. “Of course.” He could head to the opera house to examine her dressing room after. “Are you all right?”
“Things are just weird right now, and I needed someone to talk to. Do you mind?”
He would have thought he’d be the last person she’d think of if she needed to bend someone’s ear, but the first part of her statement had him on high alert. “Weird how?” Had she seen something in her dressing room? A note? A threat?
Chloe hesitated a moment before she said in a rush, “I know it sounds selfish, I mean, two of our dancers were badly injured, could have been killed, but someone was in my dressing room, and I…” When her voice cracked on the last word, she trailed off, pausing for a moment before adding, “They got into my bag and stole my lotion.” She let out a huff of laughter that was devoid of humor. “I mean, ridiculous, right? People almost die, and here I am, freaked out over a missing tube of cheap hand cream.” Quickly, like she thought he might dispute her claim, she added, “And before you ask, I already checked my car and my apartment, even though Iknowit was in my purse. Someone took it.”
“I believe you.” Hell, he’d seen the proof that someone was in her dressing room.
“Why lotion, though?” she asked. “It doesn’t make sense. I think that’s what bothers me most.”
Erik was sure now it was Jackson Savoy he’d seen on the feed, even if he hadn’t seen the man’s face. Sabotaging the light fixture so it would fall had been a distraction, though it’s possible he might have devolved so completely in his obsession with Chloe that he had intended to kill – but he’d used the time to creep into her personal space. Perhaps to sit where she sat, touch the things she touched, but he’d taken something personal. Something that smelled like her.
Chloe didn’t wear perfume. Erik’s keen sense of smell had picked up the subtle bouquet of her soap and hair products, but the most prominent scent was the lotion she used. To Jackson Savoy’s muted human senses, that would be the scent he attributed to her. Scent was a powerful reminder. It unlocked memories that someone may have thought were lost. But in Jackson Savoy’s case,the missing item also served to leave Chloe unsettled, off balance for whatever he had planned.
“Was anything else missing?”
“No. Not as far as I could tell. Honestly, I was freaked out, so I didn’t stick around to search the room.”
Erik would be sure to do that for her as soon as he got back to the opera house.
“So, how long have you lived in the area?”
The sudden change of subject threw him for a moment. “Er… I moved here, well, to the Virginia Beach area, when I was a teen.”
“Huh. I was expecting you to say you’d been stationed here and decided to stick around after you got out of the military.”
“What made you think I was military?”
“The way you stand.”
He’d have to work on that now that he was actively going out on missions. A tell like that could be a problem if he was supposed to be incognito.
When he didn’t volunteer anything more, Chloe asked, “Wereyou in the military?”
He thought about denying it for a second, but why bother? She’d already guessed. “Yes.”
Before she could dig deeper, ask questions he couldn’t answer, he changed the subject again. Asking with a smirk, “So have you thought more about that tattoo you’re going to get?”
Chapter Seven
Chloe barked a quicklaugh, her tension and fear momentarily draining away as she flopped down on her couch. She was so glad she’d called him. She’d needed this. “Definitely. It’s going to be badass too.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She could hear the smile in his voice, and deciding to play with him, she joked, “I’m thinking a giant rattlesnake, riding a motorcycle made of human bones.”
“With flames shooting out of the exhaust?”
She couldn’t hold back her laughter. “How’d you know?”
