Chloe nodded. “I’ll do the same.”
A few minutes later, the room had cleared, and Lattie turned to Chloe, his expression serious. “I have a feeling there’s more going on here than a tribute to Daniel. Not that I don’t think it’s a wonderful idea.”
“You’re aware of my stalker situation?”
“Yes.”
“We’re trying to draw him out, and we think a performance might do that.”
“I see.” Lattie grimaced and inhaled deeply through his nose as he tipped his head back to gaze at the ceiling for a moment. When his eyes returned to hers, he said, “I’ll hire additional security.”
Chloe winced. She’d been so focused on luring Jackson out, she hadn’t thought about what that would mean for the opera house and its staff. What havoc Jackson might cause, or who might be hurt. “I’m sorry, Lattie. I’ll pay for the…”
Lattie cut her off with a raised hand. “I’m not worried about the expense, Chloe. I’m worried about you. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes. This is something I need to do.”
Lattie nodded thoughtfully, his mouth opening as he began to say something when his phone went off. He looked slightly confused when he saw who was calling, and then his eyes widened. “Oh, no! I completely forgot!” He connected the call and spoke as he rushed to gather up his things. “I’m on my way, darling! So sorry, I’ll be right there!”
Ending the call, he hustled for the door only to hesitate. A look of panic overtook his face, his body swinging one way and then the other as if he wasn’t sure what to do. Chloe shooed him off. “Go. I’ll lock everything up.”
“Thank you, Chloe!”
Smiling, Chloe watched him race away and shook her head.
“Ready?” Jayla asked, appearing in the doorway.
“Just about. While we’re here, I want to pop into my dressing room quickly.” Since production had ended so suddenly, some of her things were still in there. She may as well grab them now.
Turning to look over her shoulder at Jayla once they reached her door, she opened it as she said, “I’ll just be a minute.”
When she turned back around, dread washed over her in a wave. There was a rushing sound in her ears, and her heart thumped madly as her stomach rolled. On her vanity was a single,long-stemmed red rose. Fresh, recently placed, and below it was a small, gift-wrapped box.
There was movement in her peripheral vision as Jayla charged into the room to search it, and Chloe heard a strange, repetitive clicking noise. It took her a moment before she realized she was shaking so badly that her teeth were chattering. Firm hands gripped her arms as Jayla steered her deeper into the dressing room and gently pushed her down onto the couch. The other woman lowered herself until they were eye to eye. “I’ll open it. You don’t even have to look at it.”
Chloe nodded. She didn’t want to see what was in the box. The only thing she wanted from Jackson Savoy was to be rid of him.
“Chloe,” Jayla suddenly barked. “I need to see the key to your apartment.”
Confused, Chloe pulled out her keys, and Jayla snatched them from her hand. A moment later, the other woman let out a harshly growled curse. “He made copies of the key to your apartment. Probably used an impression kit when he snuck into your dressing room that time, and he’s taunting you with the knowledge.”
Her skin prickled as a cold sweat broke out all over her body.
Jayla reached under her jacket, drew the gun that was holstered at the small of her back, and did a press check. She latched onto Chloe’s arm and hauled her to her feet. “Come on. Stay close to me. We’re leaving right now. We’ll get those locks changed.”
Chloe let the other woman lead her, too dazed to even pay attention to where she was going. When they reached the stage door exit, Jayla maneuvered her up against the wall. “Stay here. I’m going to check the area.” Then slowly opened the door.
With her SIG Sauer M17 at low-ready, Jayla hugged the exterior wall as she scanned the area. The only car in the back lot was Chloe’s. It looked undisturbed, but she’d clear it after she finished her sweep. Reaching the corner of the building, she paused, scanning for movement, checking the ground for shadows that were out of place, and inhaled. Nothing but the faint scent of trash from the bins kept on that side of the building. She raised the pistol to high-ready and sliced the corner. The attack came fast, but she managed to fire a shot to warn Chloe and scream, “Chloe! RUN!”
Male, six-two, gray hair, and a beard. Dirt-streaked face, filthy clothes, and he smelled like a dumpster, but he was strong and trained. He crushed her weapon hand in a vice grip, and Jayla struck out with her left, connecting with his throat. He choked and staggered. She smashed his nose, felt cartilage give, and the hot spray of blood splashed her face, but he didn’t let go. His other hand got past her to clamp onto her throat, lifting her off the ground, then slammed her onto her back.
Air blasted from her lungs, and pain ricocheted down her spine. He dropped on top of her, pinning her with his weight, choking her with one hand while the other hammered her weapon hand against the pavement until it spasmed and her pistol skittered free. Jayla swung again, connecting with his jaw, but the choke-hold only tightened. He was going to crush her windpipe. Her lungs burned, and black spots swam in her vision. Lightheaded and fading fast, her next strike was weak as she fought to stay conscious. If she blacked out, Chloe would be vulnerable…
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chloe heard the gunshot,heard Jayla scream a warning, and fear sliced through her so sharply it nearly dropped her to her knees. With her heart pounding in her ears, she took off running down the hallway. Hot tears blurred her vision, distorting everything as she barreled into the set department and searched for a place to hide. Dropping down behind one of the unfinished background panels, she hugged her knees to her chest. She was breathing too loudly, every exhale coming out in a keening sound, and she covered her mouth with her hands in an attempt to stifle the noise.
Her heart was racing, and her skin felt so tight it prickled uncomfortably. She knew she needed to calm down, but she was so panicked she couldn’t recall a single one of the exercises her therapist had taught her.
