garage. My Harley’s
parked in the alley. Got everything you need for work?”
Crystal hoisted her handbag higher on her shoulder. “Yep.
I’m ready.”
Tomas had his motorcycle revved and screeching into the
street before the press knew what hit them. He opened the throttle, leaned
forward and shot into the wind with Crystal close against his back.
Who had the fucking power now? The press looked like
a sea of urchins behind them. Tomas smiled and gained speed as they hit the
open highway.
He’d have to stay close to Crystal and the investigation to
see where it led. His buddies at the local precinct would keep him informed as
a courtesy. When he called his brother Antonio last night while Crystal slept,
his brother promised to stay in touch with his contact there. However, FBI
involvement as this stage was premature, his brother had warned. Nosing around
the investigation might piss off perfectly capable officers. Antonio promised
to stay in contact and offer his help on the down low.
Tomas made a mental list of what he knew, so far, while the
warm city air breezed over his face. One. Whoever had written those letters
knew Crystal’s real name and stage name. Two. The ransacking was most likely
the work of a WCNT employee. Three. Whoever it was wanted to reclaim the
evidence, not hurt Crystal as the letters stated. What the hell was going on?
If someone wanted to hurt Crystal, they would have waited
for her to come home, assaulted her and then taken the letters. Instead, a
young woman had avoided breaking and entering by gaining access to the
apartment under false pretense. She’d taken what she wanted and left. There was
no robbery and no vandalism attached to the crime. Nothing to indicate the
threats would be carried out. Odd.
Tomas’ deliberations came to a halt as he and Crystal
approached the television station. Goddamned press was stuck to the front of
the building like slugs on wet rock. Shit. He revved the throttle to get
their attention, making as much noise as possible. Tomas watched while the
paparazzo turned toward the motorcycle. “Hang on, baby!” he shouted. Tomas
aimed the Harley straight at the crowd.
At first the press corps showed interest in the bike heading
straight for the front door of the building. Tomas watched as curiosity changed
to consternation, then fear. A female reporter ran out of the way and a male
jumped to the side. A dozen pairs of eyes went wide and people scattered as the
Harley drew close enough to skin knees and elbows, blowing heat and fumes in
its path.
“You crazy bastard!” A paparazzi screamed. Tomas only
laughed in return, aiming the Harley directly at the front door. When they
reached the glass entryway, he slid to a halt and Crystal hopped off the bike.
She ran inside before anyone could get to her. Though most of the journalists
had moved out of the way, one cameraman caught the entire event on film. A
reporter spoke into her microphone.
Tomas turned the Harley around and headed for the parking
lot. “ Adios !” He waved a hand and disappeared around the side of the
building.
* * * * *
Crystal was yelling at Marv in the green room when Tomas
entered the building from a rear exit. A security guard had let him in. He came
up behind Crystal and stood at her side while Marv frowned and rubbed his bald
head.
“Someone from this studio is after me and it’s up to you to
find out who!” Crystal shouted. “You’ve got spies everywhere.”
Marv lifted his hands. “What do you want me to do? The cops
were here early this morning. I answered all their questions. They looked
around. Talked to the staff. If they learn anything I’m sure you’ll be the
first to know. Then I’ll fire their ass and we can both press charges.”
Crystal looked up helplessly at Tomas. “The police won’t
find anything, will they.” It wasn’t a question. Crystal sounded resigned to
the obvious.
Tomas told her the truth. “Without the letters as evidence,
there’s
parked in the alley. Got everything you need for work?”
Crystal hoisted her handbag higher on her shoulder. “Yep.
I’m ready.”
Tomas had his motorcycle revved and screeching into the
street before the press knew what hit them. He opened the throttle, leaned
forward and shot into the wind with Crystal close against his back.
Who had the fucking power now? The press looked like
a sea of urchins behind them. Tomas smiled and gained speed as they hit the
open highway.
He’d have to stay close to Crystal and the investigation to
see where it led. His buddies at the local precinct would keep him informed as
a courtesy. When he called his brother Antonio last night while Crystal slept,
his brother promised to stay in touch with his contact there. However, FBI
involvement as this stage was premature, his brother had warned. Nosing around
the investigation might piss off perfectly capable officers. Antonio promised
to stay in contact and offer his help on the down low.
Tomas made a mental list of what he knew, so far, while the
warm city air breezed over his face. One. Whoever had written those letters
knew Crystal’s real name and stage name. Two. The ransacking was most likely
the work of a WCNT employee. Three. Whoever it was wanted to reclaim the
evidence, not hurt Crystal as the letters stated. What the hell was going on?
If someone wanted to hurt Crystal, they would have waited
for her to come home, assaulted her and then taken the letters. Instead, a
young woman had avoided breaking and entering by gaining access to the
apartment under false pretense. She’d taken what she wanted and left. There was
no robbery and no vandalism attached to the crime. Nothing to indicate the
threats would be carried out. Odd.
Tomas’ deliberations came to a halt as he and Crystal
approached the television station. Goddamned press was stuck to the front of
the building like slugs on wet rock. Shit. He revved the throttle to get
their attention, making as much noise as possible. Tomas watched while the
paparazzo turned toward the motorcycle. “Hang on, baby!” he shouted. Tomas
aimed the Harley straight at the crowd.
At first the press corps showed interest in the bike heading
straight for the front door of the building. Tomas watched as curiosity changed
to consternation, then fear. A female reporter ran out of the way and a male
jumped to the side. A dozen pairs of eyes went wide and people scattered as the
Harley drew close enough to skin knees and elbows, blowing heat and fumes in
its path.
“You crazy bastard!” A paparazzi screamed. Tomas only
laughed in return, aiming the Harley directly at the front door. When they
reached the glass entryway, he slid to a halt and Crystal hopped off the bike.
She ran inside before anyone could get to her. Though most of the journalists
had moved out of the way, one cameraman caught the entire event on film. A
reporter spoke into her microphone.
Tomas turned the Harley around and headed for the parking
lot. “ Adios !” He waved a hand and disappeared around the side of the
building.
* * * * *
Crystal was yelling at Marv in the green room when Tomas
entered the building from a rear exit. A security guard had let him in. He came
up behind Crystal and stood at her side while Marv frowned and rubbed his bald
head.
“Someone from this studio is after me and it’s up to you to
find out who!” Crystal shouted. “You’ve got spies everywhere.”
Marv lifted his hands. “What do you want me to do? The cops
were here early this morning. I answered all their questions. They looked
around. Talked to the staff. If they learn anything I’m sure you’ll be the
first to know. Then I’ll fire their ass and we can both press charges.”
Crystal looked up helplessly at Tomas. “The police won’t
find anything, will they.” It wasn’t a question. Crystal sounded resigned to
the obvious.
Tomas told her the truth. “Without the letters as evidence,
there’s
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