Two, he could learn about Rosetta all her likes and dislikes quickly.

  Three, no one wanted this mission over quicker than him.

  His reasons weren’t really that good, but still Greg worried. He held his breath when Manis parted his lips to speak.

  “You make a good argument; however, Rosetta made a public announcement, a very public announcement about dating. She has no intentions of dating someone unless she plans to marry them. She’d doing something called courtship. If she goes back on her word, then her fans will start to question. Remember her safety depends on secrecy. We can’t have people wondering how so much changed about her with no warning.”

  Greg relaxed his tense muscles. Finally, Manis agreed with him on something.

  “Well, then we need to hire more men.” Tito leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Director Manis looked at him and frowned. “Exactly, why are you here?”

  “What?”

  “You were ordered to watch a screen with Beta team in the gang’s apartment building. And I know that they bugged the wrong room or they bugged the right room and Alexi found and scrambled the camera, or whatever happened, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to be there and try to figure this out.”

  “I was here for the attack, and I did go back, but then I saw the announcement and—”

  “And you rushed over. Don’t you think that might look suspicious? Why would a random officer leave his post and order, I mean order, a SWAT team to strike after their superiors told them to stand down.”

  “They weren’t doing anything! Alpha team was pinned down.”

  “I know.”

  “But why?”

  “Agent Santos, you’re going to have to understand that we can’t look like we are in control of this situation. Keeping Ericka’s identity a secret is paramount to performing her job which is to protect Rosetta’s life.”

  Tito clamped his lips together.

  “Do we have a plan forward?” Greg couldn’t help but ask. Tito had good questions. Why had they waited? They could have been killed. Maybe that would have helped protect Rosetta, but it wouldn’t have saved her contract which would have disappeared with her supposed death.

  Who was running this operation?

  “I’ve put in a call to Representative Vilo about adding more men to the security detail. He said he needed to think on it and get back to me.”

  Greg didn’t understand that. Technically, the assault today was meant to kill his daughter, yet he hesitated to provide more men to protect her. It made no sense.

  During the director’s visit, Ericka turned back on the videos. She stood and practiced walking and waving. Tomorrow was the photo shoot. Ericka had had no time to work with the real Rosetta and now she would never be able to. It was too dangerous.

  Because of the shooting, Benji and Rosetta had been forced into deep hiding. They had been secreted away into a safe house with several agents. Ericka would carry on in her place until they discovered who was after the singer.

  Greg would have said the public would have understood a disappearance in light of the circumstances, but Manis indicated he’d suggested it and the idea had been nixed.

  Tito and Beta Team needed to come up with a culprit and soon. Otherwise, their only option was to keep plugging along until they were released or killed.

  ****

  The door slammed. Ilsa looked at the entrance. Don entered the room and threw his coat over a chair. Violently he loosened his tie.

  “Is something wrong, darling?”

  He looked at her with eyes narrowed. “I remember a conversation. A conversation where you asked if I would threaten my daughter’s life to assist my political career. Do you remember me saying no?”

  “Of course.” She smoothed down her dress.

  He scratched a spot between his thick eyebrows. He was only fifty-five years old and as handsome as ever. Although he was several years her senior, she didn’t feel slighted in the least, in any department.

  “Then why am I seeing an artist rendering of Yuri on television as the individual who attacked my daughter with a gun!”

  Ilsa curled her legs to the side and patted the couch.

  Don released a long breath and settled next to her. She ran her forefinger along his thigh.

  “Ilsa, I do expect an answer.”

  “Dear, it wasn’t your daughter.”

  He grabbed her hand and squeezed. She yelped with pain. “No, it wasn’t my daughter. It is a decorated war veteran, an ex-medic, an ex-nurse, a detective in a special police unit in New York.”

  “And? Don’t they die all the time?” She kept up the assault on his thigh. Touch always seemed to calm him. This time she wasn’t sure it was working.

  Don flung his head back against the sofa. “Call off Yuri. The damage has been done.”

  Damage? What did he mean, damage? The death threats to his daughter had been so quiet that only a handful of people knew about them. The threat hadn’t helped the campaign in the slightest. The shooting had been a different story. Every news outlet picked up the story. The free media coverage couldn’t be beat.

  With this kind of story, he might not just maintain control of his house seat, but he might have a shot at the White House.

  And Rosetta was never in any danger. Ilsa didn’t know where she was hidden just that she was.

  She rose from the seat and went behind the couch. She massaged Don’s shoulders. He moaned as she dug in with her nails. Before marriage she had been his masseuse. She worked for a Russian crime syndicate collecting information from high profile clients. She’d been good at it.

  Then Josef had moved her from the public and given her just to Don. He’d asked for her personally. The relationship had begun. Now that she was in her own position of power, she loved it.

  Others not so much.

  Josef had not been happy when she left. That was too bad. Marriage to a powerful man was infinitely better than indentured servitude to him. He would have to get over it. As long as Don was in power, Josef wouldn’t dare attack her. It would put him in danger of being discovered. And his little laws that he expected to get sent through would never be signed.

  This was why she would do anything for Don to maintain his position. Michael Barnes, his opponent, was getting too close in the polls. If sympathy changed the tide, then sympathy Don would receive.

  Chapter Eight

  Tuesday morning…

  Ericka rose from the bed and padded to the luxury shower in her private bathroom. Scented soap gave the room a floral aroma. She washed her hair in tangerine smelling shampoo. Out of the shower, dried, and dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirt, she dried her hair and put on her bob length wig.

  The night before had been quiet. After the shooting, adrenaline was high. They could have taken on the world. But once it wore off, tiredness set in.

  Reality set in.

  They could have been killed. Which had been the case more times than this one, but this one made no sense.

  It had kept Ericka up half the night. Now she was forced to play a part with no background. Video tapes, she had video tapes of past events. She’d spent only a few hours with the actual subject.

  Staring at herself in the mirror, she ran her hands through the straight bob length wig. The strands were smooth to the touch. She would just have to do the best she could. It was her job to protect Rosetta, and this was the way it had been deemed to happen.

  She took a deep breath and left the room.

  By the time she reached the main room the others were moving their empty plates to the one-holed sink in the hotel room kitchenette. Left on the table was a drinkable yogurt and coffee.

  “Breakfast of champions.” Maggie held her hand forward like Vanna White.

  Ericka looked at Greg. “Isn’t this a little much? I understand maybe eating like Rosetta in public, but no one can see me… and this? This is not food.”

  Greg snickered.

  “You think this is funny?”

  He pinched his thumb and forefinger close together.

  Quinn appeared behind her. “Um, boss, I hate to say this but you’re vegan.”

  “What?” Greg’s neck turned so quickly Ericka heard his neck snap.

  “Benji Hunley is a vegan. It’s well documented. You’ll need to eat that way in public.” Quinn was very matter-of-fact about the statement.

  Ericka couldn’t help herself. She burst out in laughter at Greg’s facial expression of horror.

  Maggie snickered but quickly converted herself to a solemn look when Greg shot her an intense glare.

  A knock on the door caused them to turn. Despite Representative Vilo refusing to add extra help to the detail, Manis overruled him. Police officers stood to attention outside their door.

  “We’re ready to escort Ms. Vilo.”

  “Give us a few minutes.” Greg answered when he saw her wiggle her bare toes.

  She went back to her room and found some shoes to slip into. She grabbed her purse off the bed and walked back to the front door. They were all standing around and waiting.

  For her.

  She smiled the best she could, and said, “Guess I’m ready to take pictures.”

  “Take this.” Quinn handed her an earpiece.

  She cocked her brow.

  “We had the other team wire up Rosetta. She’ll be able to hear what’s happening and feed you answers during the shoot.”

  She patted his upper arm. “Thank you, Quinn.”

  “You’re welcome.” His grin was the broadest she’d ever seen.

  In the hallway officers surrounded her. She felt like a dignitary entering the country. They crowded into the elevator all at once, barely giving her lungs room to expand. She released the breath she’d held as she entered the lobby.

  Again, they gathered around her. They inched in unison across the lobby. Even her head was hidden as she wore a ball cap that matched everyone else in the group.

  On the sidewalk a car waited. Greg peeked in at the driver then he leaned out and nodded. The back door opened. A line of bodies formed on each side, and she walked through them and entered the back seat. Apparently, they weren’t taking any chances this time.

  Settled, Greg climbed in next to her. Quinn took the other front seat.

  “Maggie?”

  “She’s riding in the van with the other agents.”

  “Ah.”

  Maggie would keep them all on track, no doubt about it.

  They eased through heavy traffic. Every light seemed to catch them. Ericka’s nerves tightened with each passing second. She drummed her fingers on her thigh, but it didn’t help.

  Greg grabbed her hand and squeezed. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “Yeah, yeah, of course.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Why is it this is more terrifying than getting shot at?”

  Greg scratched the spot above his eyebrow like he hid his true reaction. Then he lowered his hand. “Maybe because you’re used to being shot at.”

  She widened her eyes.

  She was pretty sure no amount of posing and having her picture taken was going to make her feel better about a photo shoot.

  He shrugged. “It was just a thought.”

  The car pulled to a stop before an all-glass building. Before she could adjust to leave the car, the door was open, and agents were lined up once more.

  She entered the building under whispers of suspicion. Once inside she was taken to a private elevator. By the time they reached the photographer and the set, she felt like a tight ball of nerves. Her stomach was upset, and she would have loved to stick her head in the sand like an ostrich.

  “God help me. I need you.”

  ****

  Greg introduced himself as Benji Hunley and then introduced his client, Rosetta.

  “Darling! This is a dream come true for me. You’re a legend! You pack stadiums with no names leading you. You are truly amazing!” The photographer known only as Reynaldo, lifted her arm in the air and looked at her side. “Your lines are fantastic. There is so much to work with here!”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Cheeky! Reynaldo loves it!” He walked away; and when Ericka didn’t follow, he walked back, grabbed her hand, and led her to the door. “Your outfits are here. You pick what you like, and we’ll work with it. I’ve been told you’re going for a more unique style this time. I want to help the world see it!”

  “Of course.”

  She looked over her shoulder at Greg, he winked. He couldn’t go with her. He prayed for her where he was. When the door opened, she exited in a white sequin body con dress that hit right above the knee. The straps were three fingers wide and the neckline was straight across. The glass heels she wore shone with embedded silver glitter and made her almost as tall as him. Her lips were blue, and the bob length brown wig was still in place.

  He didn’t know if he liked the new style or not.

  Truthfully, though Ericka made everything look good.

  She reached the set. A piano had been rolled out in her absence. The black contrasted beautifully with the background of white rugs and carpets and the white walled background.

  “Sit at the piano.”

  She sat.

  “Now play, sing.”

  Ericka paused. She touched her ear. Rosetta must be talking to her.

  She breathed in and began to play. Greg had no idea she could play the piano. When she started to sing his heart almost stopped. She had the voice of an angel. The photographer, who had been snapping shots, suddenly stopped and just listened. Then he shook his head out of the stupor. The camera lights winked again and again.

  After a few more minutes in that outfit, she changed. Every outfit was white. A white pant suit. The white sparkly dress and a white sundress that hung from one shoulder. The white was to designate purity and newness.

  Purity of morals, life, and everything in between. Of starting over as a new person when one was saved from sin. It was the theme of Rosetta’s new album.

  It was an interesting concept.

  Hours passed before the last shot was taken. When it finally ended, Ericka was escorted back to the dressing room. When she exited, she had changed back into her sweatpants and shirt and slipped her feet into fuzzy slippers. She practically scooted toward the door.

  Once in the car, Ericka removed the slippers and reached down to massage her feet.

  “Turn around and give me that.”

  She shifted in the seat, and he took her foot. She moaned and her eyes rolled back in her head. “Where…”

  “Do you mean where did I learn to do this?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Her head fell, making the side of her face smoosh into the car’s leather interior.

  He moved to the other foot. Answering where he learned to massage feet drifted from his mind with her next comment.

  “I’m not going to make it.”

  “Yeah, you will.”

  “How do people walk in those heels all day?”

  “I’ve always wondered that.”

  She rose up and placed her hand on his massaging hand. “You have to call Manis and tell him to find the one sending out threats and bring him in. I can’t take this anymore. Give me my black loafers!”

  Greg laughed under his breath. But he had every intention of doing what she said. Manis needed to update them on the progress. As the week went on Ericka’s responsibilities would only get more and more complicated and intense.

  While he realized their lives weren’t television shows and every case couldn’t be solved in forty-five minutes, there should be more leads by now. At least a direction to go. They had a picture of the perpetrator. They supposedly had had a room wired where they could watch every move of the one offering the threats. That should have helped immensely so why wasn’t it?

  They needed to take care of this issue and take care of it now.

  Chapter Nine

  Tito wiggled in the chair as he watched Dad’s face morph into different emotions. First pleased then angry. When the call ended, he slammed the receiver onto the cradle.

  Tito sent him a curious glance.

  “You know I understand wanting to get back to normal. Being a pop star wouldn’t be normal for someone like Ericka Stone, but to want us to find the terrorists threatening her because high heels are hurting her feet! I’m almost at a loss for words.”

  “Where did you hear that?” It sounded like something Ericka would say in jest not seriousness.

  “One of my men in the car. There was something about rubbing feet. If Greg calls me and demands I work faster to find the culprits because of sore feet. I won’t be to blame for my behavior.”

  Tito started to explain his theory, but Monica opened the door and entered without asking.

  When she saw Tito, she paused for a few seconds before continuing on. “Here are the papers you asked to see.”

  “Papers?”

  She blinked rapidly.

  “Oh, yeah, the papers.”

  Tito had the sense that more would have been said if he wasn’t there.

  “I guess I better go.”

  Dad looked up from the papers on his desk. “Tito, get control of Beta Team. They’ve put us behind with their gaff. Echo Team is working on locating the shooter, but they can only do so much.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  Dad hadn’t given him any authority on Beta Team. Clearly, Blake was the appointed leader. No matter what he walked in and said it wouldn’t matter. Burle might listen to him, Micah might listen to him, but that was pretty much it.

  They’d already taken a different approach to watching the original culprit but that wasn’t leading to any information.

  Tito eased the door closed. Temptation to crack the door and look in to see if Monica and his father were discussing other things had to be beaten down. What good would it do? If Monica and his father were having an affair, it would only mess them up. If it was something else and it involved him, he would discover it later.

  In his luxury sedan Tito drove to the car lot. There he switched one work car for another. The ancient beat up Pinto was perfect for the neighborhood. He traded out his three-piece suit for baggy khakis with holes, a long oversized flannel and cap which he wore backwards. His darker coloring allowed him to blend better than the others in certain circles. This wasn’t the best place for him, but he was making do.