Ericka took notes, lots of notes.

  “We need a list of your employees.”

  “Why, they’ve already been vetted.”

  “Except for the new guy we hired, Lewis.”

  “Lewis?” Greg jotted down the name.

  “Yes. He saved us from hours of being stranded on the road by repairing our bus, so I hired him immediately. He’s a new roadie.”

  “We need his information then.”

  “Of course.” She looked at Toad.

  Rosetta picked up strangers and gave them jobs. She wrote songs. She picked her own clothes. What else did she do?

  “Toad, will bring back his information.”

  “Excellent. Now about the location of the photo shoot.” Greg listened.

  Ericka tapped her pencil against the tabletop. What had she gotten herself into? She’d jumped from the pan into the fire.

  ****

  Charles saw Toad coming. The nicknames of the staff were ludicrous. Toad, Jamus, Mud. He had yet to choose a name or be assigned one. For now, Lewis, his original last name would work.

  He could have been a mechanic or so many other things if not for his foster father. He’d followed in Senior’s murdering footsteps. Others had tried but he’d been the most successful.

  “Hey, Lewis, I need your employment history, name, social, driver’s license, all that stuff.”

  “Oh, of course.” The fact they were just now asking was the surprising part.

  “I’ll wait.” Toad leaned against the side of the bus.

  “All right. Let me get my wallet.”

  Being here involved Ericka for certain. If they were checking backgrounds. Or maybe they needed it because Rosetta was a celebrity. No matter he had to keep this job. The money, the location, it was exactly where he wanted to be. In time, he might finally be able to settle their score.

  Chapter Three

  The department store was eerily quiet. Ericka had been arrayed in Rosetta’s usual garb and let in through the front door. She waved and acted as close to the singer as she could with no practice.

  Once safely inside the workers were escorted to a break room. When they were secure, the real Rosetta entered through a back door. All windows and doors were to be avoided as they shopped.

  Rosetta and Ericka flipped through clothes on rack after rack. Rosetta would pull out one at a time, place it before Ericka, click her tongue, shake her head, and put it back.

  “Nothing in this section screams you or rather me. On we move.” Rosetta kicked up a heel, threw a hand in the air, and rotated.

  “You use that move on stage.”

  “I do, very perceptive. Have you been to a concert?”

  “Sadly, no.”

  “So, you like my music?”

  “I do, I love Christian music.” The wholesome music made her feel good about listening to it. Not to mention the beat and the words. Everything about it made Ericka feel uplifted.

  Rosetta clapped. “This is good. Very good.” She did the move again. It was smooth with no break as she turned 180 degrees and took off walking again. A few steps in, she stopped. “You try.”

  Ericka put a smile on her face, kicked one foot, and twisted on the other with her hand held aloft. “How did I do?”

  “Seamless!”

  “I doubt that, but—”

  “No, it was perfect. Before we’re done the public won’t have a clue I’ve left. I could retire and still have a career.” She paused. “If I wanted to.”

  “There is that.” Ericka smiled to soften the blow. It was obvious that Rosetta didn’t want a change in her career, nor was she happy about the current temporary change, and who could blame her.

  “Let’s look through this rack.”

  “White?”

  “Yes, white. It’s pure. Oh, this one! You must try it on. Oh, and these glasses. And this wig. I’m assuming you would prefer to keep your hair. And besides,” she put her hand up to the side of her mouth, “I wear a wig.”

  Ericka cocked her brow. She wasn’t allowed time to think about what Rosetta had said. They walked toward the back. Her arms were full as she was pushed into the dressing room. She’d said she couldn’t wait to get home, now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe being a star could be fun.

  ****

  Maggie paced in front of the closed break room door. Quinn just stood still and stared. If the people had been curious about the activity occurring in their store they would have definitely been afraid to risk looking with Quinn on guard.

  Maggie’s phone pinged.

  She looked at it and grinned.

  Tristan texted her thoughtful things throughout the day. Poetry, songs, sweet statements. All of it made her feel more special than usual.

  The fact that he lived halfway across the country was something they were attempting to rectify. She could move jobs, but his might be easier to move. They just weren’t sure. And were they even to that stage yet? It was a question she kept asking herself.

  “Officer?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Could you look up?”

  She lowered her phone. Those in the room stared at her curiously. “Did you need something?”

  “Yeah, self-absorbed chick, I need the bathroom.”

  Maggie didn’t appreciate the worker giving her the title despite the truthfulness of it at the moment.

  “Look, dude, bathroom breaks have to wait.”

  Quinn cocked his brow at her.

  “Fine. I’ll call the manager.” Maggie called Greg.

  “Yes?”

  “We have someone who needs the restroom.”

  “Give me a minute.”

  She heard discussion in the background.

  “Escort them through.” The line went dead.

  “Quinn, you can take him.”

  Quinn and the male employee exited the room. Maggie took a seat. The two remaining ladies studied her.

  “How long have you worked for someone famous?”

  “How do you know I work for someone famous?”

  “Let’s see, you closed down the store and you locked us in here so we can’t see them.”

  “How long have you been an investigator?”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “Don’t try to figure it out, Flora. They won’t admit it even if you figure it out. They’re probably the government or something. Maybe a dignitary. All real hush-hush.”

  “Listen to your friend, Flora.”

  The door opened and Quinn reentered. The gentleman employee took a seat. The three were looking at each other as if trying to share a secret.

  Maggie would never understand why people went gaga over celebrities. Rosetta was just a person who sang well.

  Big deal.

  She could do that.

  In fact, she probably sang ten times better than Ericka. Too bad she didn’t favor Rosetta. She’d been infinitely better at pretending to be a singer.

  Well, maybe.

  Chapter Four

  After trying on too many outfits to count, one was finally chosen. The dress was stowed in a garment bag. Money was left on the counter. Ericka went out the front door with her crew. Rosetta out the back.

  “You like the outfit?” Greg looked back at the door to the shop.

  “It could be worse.”

  She settled against the leather seat of the limo. Overall, she hated shopping, especially dress shopping. But today hadn’t been too bad. One positive to the entire situation was that Greg was with her.

  “How do you like the wig?”

  “How do you like the wig?” Ericka pushed up on the bottom layer of the bob.

  “I think I like your other style better.

  “I’m not sure whether to be happy or insulted.”

  He guffawed behind his hand. “Do you think we can do this?”

  “Hmm, act like someone else? I think so.”

  “This is different, and you know it. You’re taking on her entire personality, her unique persona.”

  “If you’re there to remind me, I’m me, I think we’ll be fine.”

  He’d encouraged her that she could do it in the beginning. Now he was questioning? Was he getting cold feet? She would certainly understand if he was. This was set to be a big undertaking.

  Blue lights raced past. Greg rose and followed with his vision. That was something they would need to watch. Curiosity was one thing, but Greg used his entire body and that was more than curiosity.

  The limo stopped at a high rise, upscale hotel in Manhattan.

  “We’re staying here?” Ericka craned her neck to look up at the tall building.

  “I think so. Apparently, it is the best place for our visitors. They will be here for a while then Rosetta and Benji have to go into hiding before they get caught. It’s the only way to protect her.”

  “Exactly why are we protecting her so well?”

  “I’m surprised you don’t know.”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t ask.”

  “Touché.”

  “So?”

  “I haven’t been officially told this, so I’ve been thinking about it. And the more I think on it, my best guess is because she’s the daughter of a representative from the state of North Carolina.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, daddy dearest requested the assist.”

  “That would be the assumption.”

  The car door opened. Quinn stood there wearing back shades and looking around. Ericka put her leg clothed in polyester pants with stripes of green, brown, and tan out of the car door.

  The first bullet shattered the window between Quinn and Ericka. Greg grabbed her and pulled her back inside. Quinn ducked behind the open door.

  Maggie was still in the front seat. She leaned her head out and back and forth, trying to locate the shooter. “I can’t see them!”

  Greg practically lay down on top of Ericka as the back window shattered and glass sprayed atop them.

  “I guess there was a threat.”

  “I’m going to kill Tito!” Greg’s anger came through as the barrage of bullets continued.

  Ericka knew they were in a bad spot. The question was, as undercover agents, what could or should they even do about it?

  ****

  Tito sat in the roach infested room and watched the grainy screen. Blake and Nick were in the other room piled up on a dingy couch. They had attempted to infiltrate the group and were promptly refused. Now they hung around the headquarters complaining about their location.

  Because in their one time in Alexi’s apartment they stuck the camera in a terrible location, they could barely see. Their intel on the group and its leader was subpar at best.

  On the grainy screen, Alexi flashed a look at the television and then smiled.

  Tito had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Turn on the television.”

  Blake and Nick sat perfectly still.

  “Turn on the television!” He raised his voice even though it was in a hoarse whisper.

  They didn’t move, so Tito walked over and turned on the screen. He took a step back.

  “Shots are being fired on a limo in front of The Plaza Hotel. It is believed that the Christian pop star, Rosetta, is inside and unable to be reached. Police on the scene are attempting to locate the shooter.”

  “They’re shooting at Ericka.” Tito turned to a dresser; he grabbed his gun and put it in the holster that hung on his side. He shrugged into his jacket.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to help them.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Tito paused in movement.

  “If you rush out of here, you’ll blow our cover.”

  Nick added, “Yeah, besides Alexi is on the screen. He’s not doing anything.”

  Tito squeezed his fists at his side and held his breath until he almost saw stars. Did it matter that Ericka was being shot at by someone other than their mark?

  “Sit. You’re too far away anyway. And we can’t blow our cover.”

  What cover? Sitting in an apartment watching a TV cover? Making friends with the roaches and complaining on the couch cover? Those dummies couldn’t even infiltrate an organization when they looked the part and spoke the language.

  A glitch on the screen with their mark caught Tito’s attention. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Hey, where are you going now?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Tito stalked through the hallway to Alexi’s apartment. He knocked gently even though he wanted to pound on the door with his closed fist.

  The door opened. Someone Tito had never seen before stood there.

  “Hello? May I help you?”

  “Oh, I hope so. I was just baking a cake,” He snickered, “my mom is visiting.”

  “Ah, and?”

  “Turns out, I need sugar. Would you happen to have a cup?”

  “Sugar? Let’s go look.”

  Tito didn’t hesitate to enter. In his real position he should have, but as a neighbor needing sugar, he should enter all calm and confident.

  He followed the guy to the kitchen. Tito kept his hand folded before him as the guy looked through cabinets. He found a bag marked sugar. He stuck his finger in the bag, coated it, then pulled it out and tasted it.

  “Sugar.” He smiled. He fixed a baggie full and handed it over.

  “Thank you.” Tito held up the bag. He never looked around. He didn’t need to. The room and apartment was completely empty, except for this person he’d never seen, not even once on their surveillance footage.

  He left and reentered his apartment with Blake and Nick. They were riveted to the screen describing the mass destruction of property as someone tried to kill a mere Christian singer.

  Tito threw the sugar on the coffee table.

  “What’s that? Did you score while we were waiting?”

  Blake snickered at Nick’s comment.

  “It’s sugar. Sugar from our neighbor. And that,” he pointed to the snowy footage on a television screen behind them, “ain’t Alexi. Where did you guys put that camera?”

  Blake looked at Nick. Nick looked at the floor.

  Tito didn’t have time for this. “When I return, we’re going to find out where that camera has been this whole time.”

  He left and raced toward the scene and his friends. Alexi was probably there already carrying out his plot to kill the singer. They hadn’t even been watching Alexi! They had met him in person, how could they not have known he wasn’t the one on the screen!

  Those two incompetent agents could have just gotten Ericka killed.

  Chapter Five

  Greg held the phone to his ear. “We’re under heavy fire! What are you guys waiting for out there!”

  “We can’t find the sniper!”

  Greg muttered words under his breath that he would need to repent of later. They were going to be killed if they didn’t find their own way out the car.

  “Get SWAT to bring shields and escort us out.”

  “They would but every time they get close the shooting increases.” The voice on the phone had an excuse for everything it seemed.

  “There’s more than one shooter.” Ericka announced as the thought entered his own mind.

  “You’re looking for more than one person.”

  “We’re on it.”

  “We need Maggie or Quinn to offer cover fire until we get inside then we’ll do it for them.”

  He took her jacket that lay on the floorboard and threw it out the open door. Bullets sailed through the fabric making it dance in a wild abandon before it floated to the concrete riddled with holes.

  “All right, maybe not.”

  Greg sighed. He still practically lay atop her. Glass had stopped raining down on them because there wasn’t any glass left. Now metal flicks nicked his skin. Other than the sting he wouldn’t have noticed.

  Quinn had crawled back into the front seat of the car. Now he lowered the glass partition. “Boss, any ideas? The car isn’t going to protect us much longer.”

  Greg knew Quinn was right. The bullets sailing over his head made it hard to think. “I’m open to ideas.”

  “We could give them Rosetta.”

  “Maggie!” Quinn acted shocked.

  “Not Ericka. I mean, Rosetta. Make them think they got the wrong person.”

  The idea wasn’t a bad one, but it defeated the entire purpose of protecting Rosetta by putting Ericka in her place.

  “We’re coming!” The familiar voice had Ericka trying to lift her head.

  Tito broke cover to rescue them. Greg wasn’t sure if he should be happy or upset. Right now, he would be grateful for the help. The rest he would worry about later.

  ****

  Tito had grabbed a metal shield from the SWAT team and moved toward the car and the penned down officers.

  “What are you doing? We’ve been ordered to wait.”

  “I’m rescuing,” he bit his lip, and drew in a breath, “Rosetta. Do you want an international pop star assassinated on your watch?”

  The leader looked properly chastised. He gathered his men, and they followed Tito toward the car. Bullets pinged off the metal. They formed a shield and moved in. Ericka and Greg exited inside the protective circle. Once they were inside the hotel, the group went back for the others. The volley of bullets lightened as soon as Ericka was inside and out of harm’s way.

  Tito saw the glare from where the last bullets originated. As soon as his fellow officers were inside, he grabbed his handgun and took off across the square. When the team noticed they followed. The building they entered had many floors. Tito stationed people at all the exits plus the elevators. He ordered some to climb the stairs while he took the elevator. On the top floor, he and one other found the roof entrance. The lock had been melted. They couldn’t open it even if they had the key.

  A fire box with an ax was on the wall. He broke the glass and used the ax to break off the door handle. Once the door opened it slapped the wall as he flung it back and raced up the last leg of the stairwell.

  At the edge a man placed an object in a black suitcase. He grabbed the handle, then he fell backward off the rooftop. Tito ran to the edge. He watched as the shooter pulled a ripcord and a parachute shot out.