Alpha Shifter Protectors: Paranormal Romance Collection Page 9

  Lorelei turned her skeptical attention to Jack. “Is that so?”

  Ignoring the petty interaction, Jack said, “There’s another possibility, and that’s an inside job.” Attracting everybody’s attention, Jack turned to Layla to add, “I’ll want to talk to your… your entourage, if you don’t mind.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jack paced around the hotel suites the concert promotor had rented for Layla and her entourage. He gathered all her staff in the hallway of the entire floor, set aside for her personal use, lining them up against the wall.

  Jack walked slowly past the line, unable to hide his sneering disgust and disinterest in doing so. They were a lineup of fashionistas and freaks—hairdos with people standing under them, deliberately torn clothes, pierced ears and lips and noses and other parts Jack couldn’t see and didn’t want to see. They smelled of pot and perfume.

  Jack stopped at each, looking them over like some drill sergeant from hell. Some he didn’t even bother to speak to, able to read them by their body language. Those who looked bored or were distracted attracted less of his suspicion.

  Jack had come upon some of the most dangerous men living, and he could sense the airs of a killer. He knew it took a genius and a genuine psychopath to be such a person and still slink by unnoticed, especially by somebody of his insight. Jack knew the list of qualifiers for such a person by heart, but he found nobody so challenging or worthy of his scrutiny. Still, he also knew that the most dangerous weakness in any chain was the one which had gone overlooked.

  Jack walked down the line, turning to one young man, about twenty, with dark skin and black hair. “Who’re you?”

  “Rodrigo Sanchez,” he said in a heavy accent. “Joo gotta problem with dat, big man’g?”

  Jack looked him over again. “You’re from Cuba?”

  “Das’ right, but I ain’t no communist, chico. I got my green card.”

  Jack sneered at him, then moved on. He stopped at one girl, tall and gorgeous with red hair and a flirty smile. “You’re one of the dancers,” Jack said. “I recognize you from the rehearsal.”

  “Well,” she said, looking him up and down with a hungry smile, “I’m… flattered… that you remember.”

  Jack looked her up and down. “You’ve got a lot of promise, I’d think; star power, I guess they’d call it.”

  “Oh, well, thanks… again.”

  Layla cleared her throat. “Um, can we get on with this, please?”

  Both Jack and the redhead turned to her, and Jack offered the dancer a little nod before moving on down the line. Jack went on to the redhead, “You might do really well if something happened to Layla; write a book, finally get your record deal.”

  Her pretty face went wide with sudden fear. “What? Huh? No, I… I thought you were hitting on me!”

  “Doesn’t mean you and that other ginger don’t both have something to gain.” The others fell silent, a ringing tension filling the hallway. “You better consult an attorney,” Jack said before turning to walk on down the line.

  From the corner of his eye, Jack could see Layla smiling into her cheek.

  Jack stopped at another taller member of the staff, also vaguely familiar. “What’s your story?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Jack sneered. “Don’t push me, boy. You’re a dancer too.” He slapped his asscheek and gave Jack a little wink.

  Jack moved on, but the dancer asked him, “What’s this all about? That accident? Those protesters?”

  “You’re quick to make that assumption,” Jack said.

  “Well, if you’re looking for suspects, what about Yvonne?”

  Jack could place the name, but it wasn’t clear.

  Layla reminded him, “My personal assistant—”

  “Former personal assistant,” the dancer said.

  Jack gave it some thought and turned back to him. “What’s your name?”

  “Scotty.”

  Jack ran it through his imagination, answers still elusive. “Funny you should come up with that,” Jack said, “with no knowledge of it.”

  “Well,” the redhead said, “we all know what happened, how Layla fired her. It was pretty awful.”

  Layla said, “Don’t judge me. You’re fired!”

  But Jack said, “No, hold on. Nobody’s fired just yet.” Jack turned to address the line, unable to ignore the fuming look he’d earned from Layla. But he said, “This person is of interest, but it only stands to reason that she would have friends among you, maybe even accomplices. If any of you know anything, you’re always welcome to come to me, or to Layla, we’ll hear you out. This person is guilty of attempted murder, and if you know and don’t speak, don’t act, you’ll be an accomplice. Come to us, tell us what you know if you know anything, and you’ll be protected.”

  Members of the entourage glanced at one another, eyes shifting suspiciously in the prolonged silence. “All right,” Jack said, “get outta my sight.” He turned and walked away, leading Layla into a waiting elevator, the entourage dispersing behind them.

  Jack could read her quiet concern. “Create dissent among the ranks, turn ‘em on each other.” But a prolonged silence was the only response until Jack asked, “What?”

  Layla said to Jack, “I didn’t appreciate that, back there; you undermining me. I fire who I want. They’re my staff.”

  “Didn’t want to,” Jack said. “But right now we’ve got to follow the old trope: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

  Layla nodded as they continued to descend, deeper into the bowels of the building. “What about Yvonne, you think she’s a reasonable suspect?”

  Jack gave it some thought. “You know her a lot better than I do. What do you think?”

  Layla tilted her head as she was clearly running through it. “I dunno, I mean… sure, she was pissed, and I know she lost her job and everything, but… that’s not much motive to murder a person, is it?”

  “Two people,” Jack said, nonplussed, “but I think you’re right. Even if she could get a mole among the staff, who among them would have anything to gain from your death, that other girl’s satisfaction?”

  “Then… why the dissent move?”

  “Casting a net, y’never know what you’ll pull up.” The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. “And she could still have been acting alone.”

  Layla nodded, clearly having little choice but to agree. “And that means… she’s still out there.”

  “Yeah, we’ll call those officers back, have ‘em look into it.”

  “Yeah, the cops? You don’t wanna handle this… on your own?”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t have any authority to do that.”

  Layla sagged a bit. “I didn’t think that mattered to a man like you.”

  “A man like—? Because I’m a shifter?”

  “No,” Layla was quick to say, “because you’re a badass bastard and a hard-ass motherfucker.”

  Jack cracked a little smile. “Shut your mouth.”

  Layla glanced down at his crotch. “I wasn’t even talking about your shaft.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Jack and Layla were surprised to see the new flurry of activity around the Staples Center and surrounding buildings. Throngs of fans had gathered, holding signs reading, Welcome back, Layla! and Ease Our Worried Minds!

  But there was more activity of much greater concern. Police presence was considerably increased, and as Jack walked with Layla across the compound courtyard, he noticed a spate of men and women in black windbreakers with HS in white letters on the back, a dozen or more German shepherds tugging at their leashes.

  “Bomb-sniffing dogs,” Jack guessed, sensing Layla’s question coming on. “Anti-terrorist units.”

  “Good,” Layla said. “Wouldn’t it be something if they found some bombs? I don’t mean to be frivolous about it, but… I mean, they’re here because of the attention I’ve brought to this. If they find something, I’ll be a hero!”<
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  “But if they do find something, won’t it be your fault? Mightn’t they blame you for putting lives at risk for your own personal gain?”

  Layla paused, then turned to Jack. “You don’t feel that way?” Jack shook his head, and Layla shrugged. “Then I don’t care what they think.” Jack cracked half a smile. “It’s good to know we’ve got the backup,” Layla added. “Should make your job easier.”

  Jack shrugged. “Maybe. But if you were a terrorist, maybe planning on planting a bomb in the stadium, and that is a horrifying prospect; you see this, you change your plan.”

  “Right,” Layla said, “go bomb somebody else.”

  “Or come at this target a different way. While we’re all looking for bombs in the basement or strapped to some suicide bomber’s balls, they come at us with guns, or… or worse.”

  “Worse than guns and bombs?”

  Jack looked up, squinting in the glare of the sun, shaking his head. “Drones,” he finally said.

  “What? Shit, drones!”

  “Finally,” Lorelei said, rushing up to them from the side. “Where have you two been? I’ve been calling.”

  “Is there an emergency, Mother?”

  “Well, yeah… this whole thing is an emergency!”

  “Who leaked the terrorist theory to Homeland Security?”

  Lorelei planted her fists on her hips. “I did, matter of fact. If you insist on pursuing this madness, of course I was going to take every precaution!”

  Layla said, “Mother, you just tipped our hand! Now we don’t know how they're going to come at us!”

  “Well,” Lorelei said, clearly thinking it through, “at least getting blown up is off the list!”

  “We’ll see,” Jack said.

  “Mom, from now on, just stay out of it, okay? Go back to the lounge and have a drink or something.”

  After a tense silence, Lorelei said, “Don’t you patronize me, young lady, I—”

  “Jesus Christ!” Stewart Mathers walked hurriedly up to Jack, Layla, and Lorelei. “Can you believe what’s going on here? Who called out the National fucking Guard?”

  Lorelei stood in a guilty silence, Jack and Layla both glaring at her. “Well,” Lorelei said, “whoever called them, it’s better for safety.”

  Stewart repeated, “Safety? It’s gonna be plenty safe, because there won't be a concert! I’ve already lost Elton John and Justin Bieber. And Billy Joel’s running around with a harpoon threatening to take on all of Al-Qaeda.”

  “Let ‘em go,” Layla said. “If they’re a bunch of cowards—”

  Lorelei said to Jack, “See? This is your fault, Mr. Big Shot, military… whoever you are!”

  Stewart said to Lorelei, “If I find out you were the one who called Homeland Security, I’ll sue you!”

  “No, you won’t,” Jack said, his voice stern and hard. “Whoever called HS did it in good conscience and for good reason. You’ve got insurance and you’ll take whatever they give you. But right now you’re going to turn around and scuttle back under your rock. Stay out of my sight, got it?”

  Stewart looked at him, and at Layla and then Lorelei. He wasn’t going to get any support there, and he seemed to know it. He nodded, backed up, and turned to fade back into the crowd.

  Lorelei turned to Jack in the awkward silence. “Um… thank you, for… for standing up for me, um, Mr. Billings.”

  Jack nodded with a wry half-smile. “Call me Jack.”

  Lorelei smiled. “Okay, um, Jack… I tell you what, I’ve got the schedule for the next two days, so I’ll just see to getting you where you’re needed. No reason to have any more strangers around.”

  “Makes good sense,” Jack said.

  Lorelei nodded. “Okay, well, there’s another rehearsal tomorrow at noon, news conferences all day, wardrobe fitting that night. Next day’s the concert, with your soundcheck at ten in the morning and your set starting at four in the afternoon.”

  Layla asked her, “Band and dancers are all set?” Lorelei nodded. “All right, well, thanks, well done. We’ll see you tomorrow at the theater, then.”

  Lorelei stood nervously, then nodded and turned to see to her duties. Layla turned to Jack. “Wow! You really are a charmer, huh? No wonder I… well…”

  “What?”

  “No wonder I’m letting you hang around,” she said.

  “Let’s see how long you keep letting me hang around.” This clearly alerted Layla, her brows cramped, eyes confused. “Just follow me for a minute here, in the interests of our investigation.”

  “All right,” Layla said, her voice low and cautious.

  “Is it possible… it is possible, mind you… that your mother has something to do with all this?”

  “Jack! Honestly—”

  “I know it may seem farfetched, and you’re naturally resistant to the idea, but—”

  “Resistant? She’s my mother! You’re saying my mother is trying to kill me?”

  “No.”

  “You think she’s the one who ran us off Mulholland?”

  “No. But remember we don’t know who was behind that wheel. Could have been a drunk as likely as anything else.”

  Layla shook her head in obvious confusion. “Then… what are you talking about?”

  “What if she started the whole thing: the calls, the hype—”

  “The hype? We were almost killed!”

  “She was quick to lay blame,” Jack pointed out. “That’s a sign of guilt.”

  “Then why would she call Homeland Security to prevent her own plot? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Jack shook his head. “Because there aren’t going to be any bombs, Layla, because maybe this whole thing is a carnival she created to make you out to be the hero, the patriot. Let’s face it, this has already gone a long way to rehabilitating your career. Didn’t you say that was what this was really about?”

  “I… it’s about a lot of things. As far as I’m concerned, it’s about saving the damn planet!”

  “You really think one concert is going to do that?”

  Layla snapped back, “It’s going to help! It’s going to raise a lot of money, and money talks! Public awareness, that changes minds, changes votes! Even politicians will do the right thing once people start voting with some kind of education, a notion of responsibility.”

  “Okay, fine,” Jack said, “that’s all fine. Doesn’t mean your mother isn’t still using that to her… and your advantage. Not that you’d be any part of that—”

  “And my mom wouldn’t either! She’d never be so… so manipulative and underhanded. I admit, she’s not always the easiest person to like. But she’s my mother! I love her and she loves me, no matter what the rest of this looks like!”

  Jack nodded. “You have insight into the relationship I don’t.”

  “You’re damn right I do, Mr. Smart-Ass.”

  “Which means you would also be more subjective, easier to manipulate.” A tense silence passed before Jack went on, “I’m just being practical, being thorough.”

  “All right, then, let’s be practical, let’s be thorough. You think she’d have a hand in something like what happened on Mulholland?”

  “I don’t know, Layla; I wouldn’t think so. But we haven’t got all the answers yet, and that may be because we’ve been afraid to ask the right questions. You understand.”

  Layla nodded, then looked down at her feet. She seemed to understand that even Lorelei could not be above suspicion, whatever ramifications that would have on their relationship, on her life… or even her death.

  But Lorelei was nowhere near the gallows yet, and the concert was only forty-eight hours ahead of them. Whatever was going to happen would happen by then. Every passing instant brought them all one step closer to pending disaster, and it seemed that there was little either could do about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The sun was going down again by the time Jack replaced the rented Mercedes, and he chose a gray Audi A5 to do it, opting to
keep the top up for Layla’s privacy. Driving up those twisting streets to their house in the hills, the tires screeched, Jack behind the wheel. He was in control as always, but he also knew he’d have tricky twists to navigate if he was going to deliver her safely home.

  “I’ve been thinking about this theory of yours, with my mother, and I just don’t think there’s anything there.”

  “You could be right,” Jack said, “probably are. But it could also lead us in the right direction.” They drove higher up, twisting into the crevices of the Hollywood Hills.

  “What direction, and to where? I mean, if anything, maybe we should be taking a closer look at that Stewart Mathers. I don't like him either.”

  Jack nodded. “Well, I don’t much care for him either, but that doesn't make him a conspirator in a murder case.”

  “You’re ready to suspect my mother, but not this guy… a concert promoter? You’re kidding me.”

  “They’re both unknown quantities to me,” Jack said casually, his eyes on the road. “But he’d have a lot to lose if this thing went to shit.”

  “And she wouldn’t?”

  “Layla, my theory about your mother is that it’s all bullshit. Your theory is that this man would really… oh, you mean, maybe he’s making it all up himself.”

  Layla’s head bobbed a bit on her shoulders. “Guess you’re not as dumb as I look.” Jack gave it some thought as Layla talked it through. “Easy enough to troll the internet, excite those protesters…”

  “What about Mulholland?”

  Layla shrugged. “Unrelated, like you said? Or maybe he hired somebody to run us off the road. You’re telling me a guy in his position wouldn’t have plenty of access to people like that? Like I said, he’s a concert promoter! You may think you’ve seen some ugly types, but they’re a species all their own!”

  Jack gave it some thought, Layla’s innate intelligence once again impressing him beyond his expectations. “More likely than your mother, I suppose. And all his upset, that deflects suspicion.”

  “Right, exactly. Now he pulls off the concert, he’s the big shot hero, a few hundred thousand dollars of taxpayer money is wasted, and everybody’s happy.”