“Yes?”

  “I want to know what happened. My daughter is missing.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Ilsa said she climbed aboard the bus and it was too late to stop her.”

  “Wait? What? Ilsa was there?”

  “Oh, yeah, she left the bomb outside the bus. It didn’t take long for one of those workers to place it in the cargo hold.”

  “B-but only one died. And it wasn’t a woman.”

  “How do you know?” Günter popped a grape in his mouth. Over and over. His chewing was sloppy like his work.

  “The news said.” He wouldn’t admit to speaking with the lead officer, at least not yet.

  “They could be wrong.”

  This conversation wasn’t going as Don had hoped.

  “I know you want something, brother. What is it?”

  “I want you to back off helping. Until you stop threatening my daughter, she won’t come home.”

  “No. I can’t do that. Josef insists you re-win your position. Ilsa thinks this is the best way.”

  Ilsa was wrong but because she was doing it for Josef, he didn’t have a chance of convincing her or her brother otherwise. Josef always knew best according to them.

  “What does Josef want?”

  “He needs the bill to go through where his company runs off shoring drilling in one small part of the Atlantic.”

  “I’ve seen that proposal. They will never go for it because of some water creature. But he really has no plans of drilling, right?”

  Yuri grinned and consumed more fruit.

  Marriage to Ilsa had tied him to Josef forever. Anytime the man wanted something to go his way, he threatened Ilsa. He knew that Don would come through if he did. But this time, Ilsa for whatever reason had decided that Rosetta needed to be the pawn.

  Maybe losing the election wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  ****

  Tito had escaped earlier in the night. The party had been what many in attendance expected, but the drain on Greg’s crew was overwhelming. Ericka dragged by the end of the night.

  When Tito called with an update on another body, he had his excuse. Even though he didn’t want to leave Ericka, Greg was forced to leave his role as manager with a trip to the lab.

  Reggie was finishing up when he entered.

  “What do you got?”

  “No pleasantries, no sorry you missed the party. I guess we’ll get into it.”

  Greg rolled his eyes and waited.

  “Well, that gentleman Tito brought in is Marlow “Mud” Thompson. He’d been in prison but rehabilitated and Rosetta hire him.”

  Greg looked at him curiously.

  “Documentary.”

  “I see. Continue.”

  “Mud had a gash in his leg. A fairly deep and long gash that nicked his femoral artery. I assume he received it from the explosion.”

  “Why didn’t he wait for help?”

  “I don’t know the answer, but it gets weirder. The blood on the pallets is from Rosetta. She didn’t lose enough to die though.”

  Greg listened then dismissed himself. They knew Rosetta was alive and with Charles but injured. He’d taken her even though she had memory issues. What did he want with a singer? Other than her similarity to Ericka. Fact was he killed randomly and often, so why keep this one alive. Even taking her to a hospital and enacting an elaborate ruse to make it happen.

  “Thanks, Reggie.”

  “Anytime. And next time get me some tickets to the concert. I haven’t been in ages.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Greg left the lab and went to the parking garage. He climbed into the car and had the driver return to The Plaza hotel. Upon arrival he noticed a difference, but he ignored it and climbed from the car. In the lobby reporters and cameramen attempted to photograph him.

  He hid his face behind his arm.

  Eventually someone would see him and realize he wasn’t Benji. Their features were not that similar, neither was their build.

  He boarded the elevator. He had a brief reprieve until the doors opened. On his floor wasn’t much better. Reporters lined the hallways. Guards at the door, let him enter. Inside was a frenzy as well. Everyone was throwing clothes into various suitcases. The kitchen was being emptied of food.

  “What’s going on?”

  Tim lifted his head from his computer bag. “Benji’s death and Rosetta’s disappearance were leaked.”

  “What?” It felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

  Quinn stopped and patted his arm. “Manis is calling us back in to do damage control.”

  There would be no damage control when the press realized that law enforcement had known about everything before the concert, yet they went on like normal while Rosetta was missing and Benji was left unnamed and dead.

  Through the open suite door, Ericka packed her bag. Greg put his hands in his pockets and sauntered into her room.

  “How are you holding up?”

  She shrugged.

  “I’m sorry your singing career is over.” He meant the words. She had been fabulous.

  She snickered. “You’re funny.”

  He stepped forward, grabbed her hand, and squeezed until she faced him. “Don’t worry about any fall out. You will not be held responsible.”

  “I’m not worried. I’m happy to be going home. This was really all too much.”

  He wasn’t sure that would happen. She removed her hand from his grip and folded a sweater neatly and laid it atop her growing clothing pile. “I guess I can remove the wig.”

  He stayed her. “Wait.” He ran his hand through his hair. Having her walk out like the missing singer seemed like a mistake but suddenly he was unsure what to do.

  Maggie entered the open door. “Put his on. Lose the wig. You’re walking out of here as an agent.”

  “Thanks, Maggie.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Maggie disappeared and Greg made to move as well. Why hadn’t he immediately known the necessary response? Truth was where Ericka was concerned his brain was starting to get foggy, unclear. It would be even worse if they dated and worked on the same team. He wouldn’t be able to focus on their work if he constantly worried about her safety.

  Dr. Ellen might be able to help him reason all this out, but he feared he might already know the answer.

  “Greg?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you. You’ve been a wonderful manager.”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “Now, let’s go back to our regular lives.”

  Greg hoped that was possible.

  ****

  Don sipped the whiskey. The news reporter announced the astonishing revelation that Rosetta Vilo, famous singer, had been missing since her tour bus exploded killing her manager and an unnamed worker.

  Don scooted to the edge of his seat and squeezed the glass until his knuckles whitened.

  “Local law enforcement used a double to keep people off the trail while they attempted to locate the missing singer.”

  That wasn’t the real reason, but it was partly true.

  Don waited with breath held for more.

  “We reached out to the family of Representative Vilo. A secretary made it clear the family had asked to end the charade and asked for help locating their daughter, but law enforcement disagreed with the plan. Now the Vilo family will be playing catch up in trying to locate their beloved daughter.”

  Don muted the television before falling back on the couch cushions.

  The clack of heels sounded behind him on the tile floor. A warm hand landed on his shoulder. The cold ring on the third finger chilled his collarbone through the white button up shirt.

  “Ilsa.”

  She pulled his head back and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Darling.”

  “Did you coach Raylee in what to say?”

  She came around the couch and planted herself next to him. “There was no coaching.”

  “But you explained our dissatisfaction.”

  “I never said a word to Raylee.”

  Don’s eyes widened as he understood her meaning. “You said it within earshot.”

  She smoothed her skirt and didn’t look directly at him.

  “Did she call the reporter?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Then who?”

  “Does it matter? We didn’t remove the officer at the concert. You got to ask about your daughter’s whereabouts discreetly and your poll numbers have skyrocketed.”

  Don wanted to be angry, but how could he? Ilsa only had his best interest at heart, and she had succeeded where he’d failed.

  “I have a reporter scheduled to come by the house. You can finally make your appeal to find Rosetta. Surely someone knows something.”

  Don sipped at his drink.

  One time on television and he’d know all he needed to know for sure.

  ****

  James watched in awe as Monica turned on the television in his office. The reporter stood outside The Plaza. On the screen was a picture of Ericka running away without her wig on.

  The reporter was giving details, although not necessarily the right ones. There was no mention of a threat to Rosetta’s life. There was no mention of how they had been asked to step in and take Rosetta’s place temporarily.

  The entire report made it should like Rosetta had disappeared, her manager had died, and they’d filled her spot while they tried to locate the perp.

  James ran his hands through his thick graying hair and paced his office. Monica hadn’t moved.

  The reporter in question had a lot of gall. There was no way they could have checked all their facts. The only part they had right was that the family of Rosetta wanted to go on air and make a public plea for their daughter.

  Maybe he should have pulled Ericka and allowed them to do that. Now they would be in an even bigger mess. His superiors might not be happy with the decision he’d made.

  The phone on his desk rang.

  The caller I.D. registered his superior’s name. James drew in a shaky breath and answered the phone.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ericka sat in the back seat as the luxury car drove through a throng of people. Greg was next to her.

  The leather seat warmed her backside. Might as well get comfortable. She looked out the window as the scenery flashed by. She thought they were going home, but the car took a different route from home and from the office.

  She rose. “Where are we going?”

  Tim looked in the rearview mirror. “Safe house.”

  “Really?”

  Greg squeezed her forearm. “I’m sure it’s just until the media storm blows over. We’ll work the case to find Rosetta from there. That should speed things up.”

  She fell back against the seat in a slouching heap.

  Time passed as they weaved through traffic. It didn’t matter how much. She’d gone from being on top of the world and adored to back to being her normal self. Depression might set in, or it might not.

  Maggie spoke from the front. “How are we going to find Charles?”

  They hadn’t had good luck with that so far.

  Quinn held his shoulder off the window as he half turned. “Beta Team had the footage of the parking lot reviewed. They followed his truck all the way out of town then they lost him.”

  “We’ll need a map of that area. Maybe we can estimate the location.”

  “Echo Team has been attempting that since they received word of Charles’ involvement.”

  “Hmm.” She knew they’d probably tried. Charles was elusive but he couldn’t stay hidden forever. They’d need supplies, food. When they came out, he’d want to go to a place without many cameras, a place they wouldn’t be easily recognized.

  Ericka had an idea.

  They arrived at an indistinct apartment complex. They’d taken so many turns and circuitous routes they had lost all reporters for now. Since she didn’t know where she was, she doubted seriously anyone else could find them.

  Inside the building two took the elevator, Ericka and Greg took the stairs.

  “I’ve needed a good run.”

  “Well ten floors ought to do it.”

  They were both huffing and puffing by the time they reached the top. They exited onto the floor and strolled along the hallway to another temporary home.

  Ericka opened the door to a wall of computers and television screens.

  “Quinn…” Greg was behind her.

  “I had them set up a command center so we can investigate while hiding out.”

  “This should be more than enough.” Ericka studied the different areas.

  “This one is yours, Ericka. I set up the hospital videos for you to look at. I know how good you are at seeing things others miss.”

  Ericka blushed, embarrassed that others were watching. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. And boss, I set you up over here so you can man the phones and the board with all our connections.”

  Greg nodded and moved toward his new command post.

  “My map?”

  Quinn pulled up a map on the computer. “The best I could do on such short notice.”

  She was fine with it. She began to zoom in and out, searching the fine print. She needed a town close to where Charles had dropped off the map that was in the middle of nowhere with bad cell and internet reception as well as very few store options.

  He wouldn’t want it too far from town. For some reason he was keeping Rosetta alive so, he’d want to be close if she took a turn for the worse.

  All he had to do was peek his head out and they could whack him back like a game of whack-a mole.

  Easy peasy.

  ****

  “Charles! Charles!”

  Charles tugged his t-shirt over his head and down his body before entering the living area of the mobile home. If she saw his chest or back, she might ask questions about his scars. Since as his wife she should already know, she would want to know now as well.

  “Dear, why are you screaming?”

  “Milk. We’re out of milk.”

  “Why do we need milk, exactly?”

  “For cereal.” She shook the cereal box that sounded practically empty as well.

  “Oh. I can run to the country store and pick some up.”

  “Would you?”

  “Just let me grab my shoes and I’ll go.” He left the room and found his boots. They didn’t fit perfectly. He’d found them at a consignment shop on the way to their new location. It looked rundown and off the beaten path. When he entered, he hadn’t seen any sign of security cameras so he assumed he’d be safe. But now that his toes ached, he wished he’d taken a little more time with his shoes.

  Back in the living area, he pulled on his socks and slid his feet into the boots. Rosetta had parked herself on the couch and had opened a book. Her ability to read hadn’t been lost.

  He planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  The door closed, and he looked at it. The thought to lock her in came over him, but he decided against it. If something happened and she needed to get out he wanted her to be able to. It seemed only fair. If he was going to kill her then he wanted to do it. Accidents just didn’t satisfy.

  The key in the truck, he turned the ignition and the motor revved to life. They hadn’t been anywhere in a few days, and he’d worried about the battery in the ancient vehicle, but it seemed to be right as rain.

  On the main highway, he turned on the radio to a country station and sang with the tune. The road miles went past slowly. The road was curvy and often required he slow down to below the minimum required speed. Potholes dotted the landscape and he bumped into one on more than one occasion causing him worry that he might lose a tire.

  When the trees parted, he entered into a small town. It didn’t really have a name, just a convenience store with a gas station. He parked the truck on the side and went in for milk and cereal. The choices were limited, but a tractor trailer was parked outside. It seemed like the worker was in the process of restocking. Maybe waiting a few minutes to have more choices might be worth it.

  ****

  “Rose, Rose…” Rose tried the word on her tongue a few times. Charles had said it was her name but for some reason it didn’t feel right.

  The bump on her head had decreased, but if she searched, she could still feel it. What had happened to her? Charles had said an accident, but it must have been significant. Aside from the lump on her head, she had raw places of skin on both her knees. A large swath of skin had been rubbed and felt like carpet burn. A place on her side had been stitched as if she’d been cut or pierced.

  All in all, these were signs of something fairly significant.

  She’d found the milk this morning and decided to empty most of its contents down the drain. The cereal she put outside around the side of the trailer. Charles needed to be out of the house for a while so that she could think.

  The remote to the television didn’t have batteries. He’d said that she liked to watch her soaps as he’d called them, but they hadn’t used the television once since they got to the trailer.

  She went through every drawer, every bag, any hidey hole she could find. Then she slapped her hand to her forehead and went to the back of the television and looked for buttons.

  Pressing the on switch fired up the screen. She used the up and down channel buttons on the side, but only one station came in clear enough to see and hear. On screen was a woman with a microphone. She was outside a huge mansion. At the bottom of the screen a ticker made announcements about current events.

  Rosetta Vilo pronounced missing. Representative Don Vilo offering a reward for the whereabouts of his missing daughter.

  The reporter must have been following the same story. A middle-aged gentleman came from the front door of the mansion. He held up a picture which was enlarged and flashed on the screen.

  Rose held her hand to her mouth as she gasped.

  She was looking at a picture of herself.

  Hurriedly, she pressed the volume button.

  “Please, if you have any word about my daughter, Rosetta, call the number listed on your screen. I just want her to come home safely. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t care about the officers trying to take her place even while she was missing, I don’t care about her losing her singing contract, nothing else matters, but that she comes home safely.”