Chapter 143
Chapter one hundred forty-three
Christianna
I’m sitting with Meg as we cast for dancers. I’m the tie-breaker between David and Meg.
This could get awkward.
I nudge her. “Are we missing someone in this line? Number three sixty-seven?”
“Yeah, cross them out,” she says, pointing out the discrepancy to David.
I mark them off, but a strange feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. My eyes drift back to the dancers. No standouts in this line. I scratch through the rest of them.
My gaze slides to where three sixty-seven should be.
I grab the full packets and start thumbing through them.
Three sixty-seven should be a male dancer.
I turn to Ruiz, sitting behind me, and hold out the packet. “He isn’t here, and his photo is missing.”
He pulls up the tablet and scrolls through the camera feed. I can’t see what he sees, but his voice drops low.
“Stay here.”
He’s already striding toward the rear entrance.
Meg shoots me a questioning glance. I shrug and tilt the crossed-out sheet toward her. She nods. David must sense it too, because he calls for the next line.
I glance at my phone. Almost five.
A little over one hundred auditions left.
It’s moving fast, all things considered.
The next line steps forward.
I press my hand to my stomach as I watch them. I circle two names.
We reach the final grouping.
Ruiz hasn’t returned.
I shoot off a quick text and dig an antacid from my bag.
David has commandeered one of the rooms understage for an office, and we head there to compare sheets. I can still hear his assistant giving instructions to the hopefuls.
When we step inside, the sharp smell of olive tapenade and garlic hits.
My mouth waters.
Plates are laid out with muffaletta sandwiches, glasses of sweet tea, and Zapp’s Voodoo chips. My stomach growls. I drop my bag on the floor and barely avoid hip-checking Meg as I grab a bag and take a crunchy, satisfying bite.
I layer chips onto my sandwich and take a huge bite, groaning at the flavor. Just the right amount of crunch.
Meg makes an exasperated sound.
I tune back in. “Sorry,” I mumble, covering my mouth. “I just realized I haven’t eaten today.”
She repeats the process we’re using to narrow the dancers, and we settle in.
By the time I finish my second sandwich, we have our callbacks ready to post.
I check my phone again. No response from Ruiz.
The food I so gleefully ate rolls in my stomach.
When the door opens, I turn and feel relief course through me as Ruiz and Cade step in.
Ruiz’s expression is tense, but when he sees me watching him, he smooths it to one of neutrality.
“Is there anything wrong?” I ask.
“No. We had to track down the missing dancer. It’s been handled. You’re safe,” he reassures.
My eyes narrow as I consider his response. For now, I go along with it.
“Grab some sandwiches and chips. We’re going to be here another two or three hours.”
I keep my tone bland.
Two and a half hours later, we’re finished with ensemble auditions.
“Can we go home? Do this there? Or do you want to pick it up tomorrow?” I ask.
Meg is tapping away at her phone. “I vote home, but I need to swing by the office. My replacement has questions.”
“Is she working out?” I ask as we head for the elevator.
“She is. It was a good match,” Meg answers. “If you crossed Mama with Mrs. Doubtfire, only she texts.” She flashes me a wicked smile. “And she has Erik on the run, so automatic plus.”
“Poor Erik.” I bite my lip, trying not to smile. “He spent his whole life king of his world, and in the last few months he’s had to learn to share it.”
When we get upstairs, I’m surprised to see Coulson there, along with another man in an FBI windbreaker.
I shoot Ruiz a suspicious glance.
He shrugs. “You had to get through rehearsals, and the problem was handled. You didn’t need the distraction.”
As we approach they turn towards us. “Jace Ford, this is Christianna.”
I quickly shake the extended hand as Coulson continues. “Jace is a good friend, and we have cooperated on threats together in the past.”
“Threats? I thought it was kind of over now. We know who it is. The news showed their house was put up for sale this morning.”
The FBI agent is an attractive man somewhere in his thirties. He gestures me to the couch in Remy’s office.
“Where are Remy and Erik?” I ask looking around. I’m in here by myself. Meg and David went to track down her assistant.
"We're going to take you to them. We wanted to lay everything out first." Coulson is speaking, but I'm not sure I hear anything past take you to them.
"What do you mean take me to them?" My tone is demanding.
I whip around to Ruiz.
“Tell me.”
“They received a note from the Dark Angel. It said the Opera House was infiltrated.”
“The missing dancer?” I interrupt.
He nods.
Coulson takes over. “We arrived when we realized Ubaldo hadn’t shown up at the airport. His mom and sister had taken a jet to Italy.”
“Additionally,” Jace adds, “he’d made some concerning purchases recently.”
“Remy and Erik were helping us search. They found him coming back from the parking lot. When he saw them, he took off running,” Ruiz says.
“Ubaldo tried to jump the wrought-iron fence. He misjudged it, and the top of the iron caught him in a sensitive area,” Coulson continues.
Ruiz snorts. “Understated. Anyway, Remy caught up to him first. As he approached, he got kicked in the face. He’s fine, but he has a broken nose. Erik took him to the hospital to get checked out.”
“Are we sure he’s okay? Why didn’t he call me? I should be there.”
“Ma’am,” the agent says, stopping me as I am reaching for my bag to dig out my phone.
“What?” I snap.
“That isn’t everything. Why don’t you sit down?”
It feels like someone has grabbed my heart and squeezed. I can’t breathe.
Ruiz guides me to the nearest chair as I whisper through pale lips, “Are they really okay?”
He shoots the agent a censorious look before the man quickly reassures me. “They’re fine. Except for the ice pack he’ll no doubt need.”
“Are you sure? I haven’t even received a text from either of them.” I swallow against the lump in my throat.
Ruiz holds out his phone. A text thread with Remy and Erik fills the screen.
I’m fine. I don’t need to be here. — Remy
He needs to be seen in case it has to be set. — Erik
Don’t worry, Tianna. — Remy
!! — Erik
The relief washing over me is so immediate I’m glad to be sitting. It leaves me light-headed.
“What else could there possibly be?” I ask, bewildered.
Agent Ford’s expression doesn’t shift. “He placed a pipe bomb on the underside of your SUV. We located it before it was armed. Two additional devices were found in his vehicle. We believe he intended to deploy them here.”
The words land, slow and unreal.
“Bombs? Why weren’t we notified or evacuated?”
“After Ruiz dropped you at the entrance, he re-parked the SUV in the side lot,” Ford says. “The device was discovered there. Bomb tech responded immediately.”
Ruiz nods once. “Once we identified it, we cleared the lot and established a perimeter around the vehicles. The building was secured and exterior access restricted.”
“The devices were rendered safe before anyone inside was at risk,” Ford adds. “Keeping everyone contained prevented panic and gave us control of the scene.”
Ruiz shoves a glass of water in my hand. I absently sip.
“Why? I don’t understand. How?” The questions roll through my head faster than I can form them.
“Ruiz, please hand me my bag,” I request. It’s sitting a few feet away where I dropped it. He complies, and I root around until I find my phone.
I pull up the video call, and within moments I am staring into Erik’s icy blue eyes.
I take a deep breath. “I need to see Remy.”
He turns the phone. “He’s fine. Mostly. Although had he listened to me and left this to Ruiz, he wouldn’t be in the hospital.”
I tune out Erik’s version of concern and study Remy. His face is swelling, and he has cotton poking out from his nostrils.
“You’re really okay? Both of you?”
Erik turns the camera back to himself. “We are. We should be done soon. Coulson called his friend who is a charge nurse. She is most efficient.”
I nod and give him a weak smile. “I’m glad. Should I come to you?”
He shakes his head. “No. We should be discharged soon. We will meet you at the house.”
“Love you both,” I say before ending the call.
Jace starts to speak, but I hold up my hand. “I need a minute, please.”