Chapter Nine
Val showered, washed and dried her hair, perfumed and lotioned her body, fed Snoozie, then did her best to psyche herself up for the important night ahead.
She was ready to leave for the theater with plenty of time to spare. Ethan was pacing by then. She figured she would give him a break and go in a little early. Security would be tight at the Paramount. She would be safe there, and Ethan could do whatever he needed to help find the killer.
In a flirty little short black skirt that fluttered around her thighs when she walked, a peach silk, off-the-shoulder blouse, and a pair of open-toe, black high heels decorated with rhinestones, she was ready to face the photographers and TV media that would be waiting backstage before and after the show.
Val was fairly certain the after-party would be canceled. The murder of La Belle’s top model wasn’t something to celebrate.
A little shiver ran through her. She could have been the victim. Or she could be next. The murderer might go after Megan, or any of the girls who’d received a threatening note.
“You ready?” Ethan asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Val steeled herself; she had a job to do. Pasting on a smile, she grabbed her tote and her purse. “Ready as I’m going to get,” she said.
Ethan parked the Jeep near the rear entrance of the Paramount, came around and helped her down, then started walking her toward the back door.
“Dirk’s already here,” he said. “That black Escalade’s a BOSS, Inc., vehicle. Dirk usually drives his Viper or rides his Harley. The SUV is better for clients.”
She smiled. “A Viper or a Harley. He certainly has good taste.”
“I rode a 750 till I had a kid. I figured I couldn’t risk getting myself killed and leaving her alone.”
Her interest sharpened. “You have a child?”
He nodded. “Little girl named Hannah. She’ll be four her next birthday. Sweetest little towhead you’ve ever seen.”
Val’s stomach tightened. “So . . . you’re married?”
“No. I offered, her mother refused. You might say we weren’t exactly a match made in heaven.”
She shouldn’t have felt so relieved. But the heat in those dark eyes whenever he looked at her was hardly appropriate for a married man. Nor was the hot surge of desire she felt in return.
“Why didn’t the two of you get along?” she asked.
“Since I’m not into name-calling, you’ll have to ask her.”
He reached the rear entrance and the outside security guard pulled open the door.
“Any problems?” Ethan asked.
“Not so far.” The guard turned to Val. “Everyone’s heard the news. I’m sorry about what happened to your friend.”
Val swallowed. “Me too.” She walked into the theater, past another guard just inside the door.
The place was already buzzing as Ethan led her into a big room backstage where rows of makeup tables had been set up, each with a lighted mirror.
Some theaters had a row of dressing rooms. Here, every girl was assigned a table where a makeup artist would apply her makeup and a stylist would finish her hair. The room was already half full.
Val turned to the powerful man beside her. “I’ll be okay now. Thanks again for coming to get me.”
“I’ll be waiting for you after the show.”
“Oh . . . that’s right. I don’t have my car, so I guess I’ll be needing a ride.”
Something hot moved in those dark eyes; then it was gone. “I’ll keep you safe, Val. For now that’s all you need to worry about, yes?”
She nodded, smiled. “Thanks.” Turning away, she took a deep breath and walked through the door into a completely different world from the one in which she actually lived. An exclusive world of beauty and glamour and fashion.
She thought of Delilah and the image changed to the dark reality of murder. Then she remembered that Ethan would be waiting to see her safely home.
She took a deep breath. She could do this, do the job she was being so highly paid for. Val headed for her makeup station.
Ethan spotted Dirk walking the redhead, Megan, toward the busy dressing area backstage.
Like all the models, Megan O’Brien was a beautiful woman.
At the same time, she seemed more approachable than some of the others, more of a high-school sweetheart than a sophisticated fashion model.
Maybe that was part of what Dirk liked about her.
Dirk grinned down at her, whispered something. Meg smiled up at him, turned, and disappeared into the room.
Dirk walked toward him. “Everything okay?”
Ethan nodded. “You?”
“Meg was pretty shook up. I think she felt better after Valentine called. I gather they’re close friends.”
“Seems that way. You behave yourself?”
“Meg made it easy. She has about ten thousand guys trying to get in her pants. She’s pretty cautious when it comes to men. What about you and Miss Dimples?”
Ethan let out a slow breath. “She’s not what I thought. She’s smart, saving her money to finish vet school. She was helping Sam wash a big hairy dog when I found her.”
Dirk’s mouth edged up. “Smart, hardworking, not prissy, and sexy as hell. So I guess you’re no longer off women.”
Ethan grunted. “I’m off them till this is over. I need to keep my head on straight and so do you. We need to find this guy before he kills someone else.”
Dirk sobered. “So where do we go from here?”
“If you’ll keep an eye on things, I’ve got a couple of errands to run.
I’ll be staying with Val until the tour leaves or they catch this guy, so I need my laptop and a few other things from my apartment.
I need to head down to the office. I want to talk to Sadie, see if she can come up with something that might be useful. ”
Sadie Gunderson was a middle-aged woman who worked part-time at BOSS, Inc. With two grown kids and a couple of grandkids, she was the most unlikely computer whiz on the planet and dynamite good at her job.
“I’ll keep an eye. You’ll be back before the show?”
Ethan’s lips curved faintly. “What? Miss all those beautiful half-naked women? I’m over thirty, but I’m not dead yet.”
Dirk laughed. But the truth was, Ethan was more interested in seeing one particular half-naked woman, and because he didn’t like sharing, he would rather she be all-the-way naked just for him. Beyond that, he would worry about her safety until he got back.
Ethan headed for the door.
The sign etched into the plate-glass window read “Brodie Operations Security Services, Inc.” The relatively small freestanding building took up two floors of a brick structure on NE 8th in downtown Bellevue.
The reception area, conference room, employee lounge, and an open area with rows of desks, each with its own computer, were located on the first floor.
Upstairs was Ian’s office, plus a room with a couple of beds where the guys could crash if they got in late, and the office Sadie sat in to work her computer magic.
Ethan shoved through the door into the reception area. Modern in design, with a butter-soft black leather sofa and chairs and a black granite coffee table, the waiting area as well as the rest of the decor was expensive, masculine, and comfortable.
Heading into the main part of the office, he spotted his brother, Luke, sitting at his desk.
“Hey, bro,” Luke called out. At six two, he was an inch shorter than Ethan, with a hard, lean-muscled build.
A year younger than Ethan’s thirty-two, with his short-on-the sides, sun-streaked brown hair and brilliant blue eyes, Luke was an unrepentant ladies’ man with no intention of changing anytime soon.
As Ethan walked up, he grinned. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a backstage pass to the titty show, would you?”
Ethan felt a shot of irritation. “It isn’t a titty show. These women are high-class models. They’ve been working twelve hours a day to put this show together.”
One of Luke’s dark eyebrows went up. “That so? Seems to me it was you who was grumbling about taking a job babysitting a bunch of airheaded women.”
“Well, I was wrong. They aren’t what I thought. At least most of them aren’t. The bad news is, last night one of them was murdered.”
The teasing light slid from Luke’s handsome face.
“Don’t tell me it was the creep who sent those notes.
” His brother knew the reason La Belle had wanted to add more security.
Luke’s specialty was tracking down bail skips.
He made a fat living as a bounty hunter, but he could handle just about anything.
“Guy left a second note,” Ethan said. “Threatened to kill another model if the women didn’t repent.”
Luke hissed in a breath. “You need some help?”
“Appreciate the offer, but it isn’t more men we need; it’s a lead that’ll give us a way to find this guy.
” His brother might be a little wild at times, but he’d been Delta till he’d taken a bullet next to his heart on some secret mission too classified to talk about.
He was capable, reliable, and strong as steel.
And beneath his lighthearted banter, Luke was the kind of man who believed in protecting a woman at any cost.
“I’ve got to check my messages,” Ethan said. “Then I’m heading up to see Sadie. I’m hoping she can help.”
“Good idea.”
Ethan walked toward his desk.
“Listen . . . sorry about that crack about the girls. I was just trying to fire you up a little. With the trouble you’ve been having with Ally and Hannah, you’ve seemed a little down lately. I meant what I said—you need help, just call.”
“Thanks. I will.” Aside from being his brother, Luke was a man Ethan could count on. He wouldn’t hesitate to ask for his help.
Crossing the office, Ethan sat down at his desk and picked up the phone.
The days of an actual person taking messages were long gone, so he checked his voice mail, which he usually did from his cell.
Unless it was necessary, he didn’t give out his cell number.
He liked to keep his private life private.
There were only a couple of messages, phone calls that pertained to his last assignment. Those he returned, then headed upstairs.
Ian’s office door stood open, the room decorated in the same black-and-chrome motif as the rest of the building. Sitting behind his desk, blond hair a little rumpled, head bent over as he worked, Ian looked up as Ethan approached.
“How’s the show going?” his cousin/boss asked. He was tall, like the rest of the Brodies, with an athletic build and a too-handsome face. There was a time Ian had had women falling at his feet, but since he’d met his wife Meri, those days were past.
“Everything was going just fine till one of the models got murdered last night.”
Ian came out of his chair. “Sonofabitch. What the hell happened? Christ, don’t tell me it was that crazy who sent those notes.”
“Looks like. The vic was strangled. Her name’s Delilah Larsen. The police don’t have jack. I’m here to talk to Sadie, see if she can come up with something.”
“Good idea. You get into the crime scene?”
“Yeah. Looked like a burglary gone bad till they found another note in the victim’s safe. Note made a second threat similar to the first. Be best if they canceled the show, but that’s not going to happen. We really need to find this guy.”
“Yes, and the tour leaves for Dallas on Tuesday. Security’s going to be a bitch.”
“Exactly. Sadie’s usually in on Saturdays. She in her office?”
“She’s there.”
“I’ll head on down. I need to be back at the theater before showtime.”
“I’ll do some digging,” Ian said. “If I come up with anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” Heading out the door, Ethan strode down the hall into the office that was Sadie Gunderson’s domain. She sat at her desk behind three computer screens, a big woman in her fifties, broad-hipped, with very curly shoulder-length silver hair.
There were photos on the desk: her son and his family, her daughter and her two kids. Ethan thought of Hannah and felt a pang in his chest. His daughter lived in Seattle, but he rarely got to see her. Nick, Luke, and Ian lived there, too, but the rest of his family was spread across the country.
He and Luke had been born and raised in Texas. Their mom had died five years ago. Two years later, their dad had remarried and moved to North Carolina. Jim Brodie was happy again, had adopted his younger wife’s two kids. Ethan and Luke were both glad for him.
Ethan looked at Sadie and eased farther into the room, approaching quietly, like coming up on a Doberman chewing on a bone.
“Sadie?”
She glanced up, lines instantly forming across her forehead.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve got a problem and I’m hoping you can help.”
Shrewd green eyes fixed on his face. “Everybody has a problem, hotshot. You’ll have to get in line.”
Ethan didn’t back off. He was used to Sadie, whose bark was worse than her bite. Mostly. “My problem’s murder, Sadie. And if I don’t come up with something soon, it’s going to happen again.”
The woman’s hard look softened. “Well, you better sit down, then, and tell me what’s going on.”
Ethan sat in the chair beside her desk and laid it all out: the notes the top-ten models had received, Delilah Larsen’s murder, the second note left in the safe.
“So where do you want me to start?” she asked.
“I’m thinking we start with the women, each of the models who received a note. Get into each woman’s past, go deep, see if we can find someone with a grudge, a guy who’s willing to murder to get even.”
“If he’s mad at one of them, why would he send notes to ten of them?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t care which one pays. Maybe Delilah was just the easiest to get to. Look at their backgrounds, their religion, since he keeps calling them sinners. Look at guys they’ve dated, anything that might give us a lead.”
“Get me the names and I’ll get moving.”
Ethan smiled. “I e-mailed you a file with all the data. Names, addresses, ages, places of birth. You’ve got the basics, but I need a whole lot more. I need the personal info, stuff only a wizard like you can come up with.”
Sadie scoffed. “You ought to know by now, dear boy, flattery isn’t going to work.”
“How about tickets to a Seahawks’ game?”
“That’ll work.” She grinned. “I’ll send the info to your e-mail as soon as I’m finished.”
Ethan bent and kissed her forehead. “Thanks, Sadie. You’re a peach.”
“Yeah, well, just don’t forget those tickets.”
Ethan grinned. “Not a chance.” Turning, he left the room, hoping the information, once he got it, would actually be helpful. Giving up a pair of game tickets was a high price to pay.
His smile faded as he left the building, anxious to get back to the theater before something else went wrong.