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“You got Sully.”
“And we’ve got problems.”
“What’s the situation?”
That was one thing he
liked about Sully, he didn’t waste time with useless words.
“Someone managed to get a
stuffed animal onto the bus while it was parked in the secured parking garage
beneath the hotel,” Christian said. “Last show it was the dressing room, or
more specifically, Micha’s dressing room where they left a t-shirt with a similarly
designed stuffed animal on the front. Now I know why. Whoever this is has been
following the band for awhile. They’ve managed to snag a bracelet off his
wrist, a t-shirt he draped over a dressing room door, and the notebook he was
writing lyrics in.”
“How the fuck did they
get so close to him in the first place!”
“That’s what I want to
know. Each time he was being guarded by Tomas. As for the dressing room and the
bus, I’m still trying to figure out how they managed those.”
“Where are you guys now?”
“Raleigh.”
“Which means you’re
heading to Atlanta next. I’ll have Dominick meet you at the venue. I’m pulling
Tomas.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything I should know
about this stuffed animal?”
“You mean besides the jagged
teeth, tentacles, one eye sewed closed and lines of stitches connecting
different colors and textures of fabrics? The damn thing is creepy as hell. I
just sent you a picture.”
There was pause, followed
by a low grumble. “Are those safety pins? And ribbon wrapped around the
tentacles like
“Yeah, they were safety
pins on the t-shirt too. They’d cut the collar off, hemmed the edges of it and
the t-shirt, then reattached the collar with the safety pins. Classic old
school punk design. There were safety pins on the back of the shirt too, with
ribbon running through them, the same color ribbon as is on those tentacles. I
bagged both.”
“Good, let me reach out
to the band’s management team and see how they want us to proceed. With several
state lines involved I’m sure they’ll want to get their own investigators on
this so it doesn’t leak out to the media. For now, keep doing what you do, and
I’ll update you with anything I learn.”
“Affirmative.”
He heard Sully blow out a
long breath and the sound of papers rustling in the background. “How’s Micha
handling it?”
“He’s not. He doesn’t see
the threat. Just wants to blow the whole thing off and not be bothered with
it.”
“Then we’ll have to be
bothered for him.”
“I’m guessing he doesn’t
want to make waves,” Christian admitted. “It’s like with anything else, he does
everything in his power to keep the focus off of himself when he’s not on the
stage.”
“Good in some ways, bad
in others.”
“Exactly.”
“Alright. I’m on it.
Thanks Christian.”
There was no need to
reply, Sully had already disconnected the call. That was fine with Christian.
He knew without a shred of doubt that his boss would do what he did best and
likely send more than just Dominick out to aid them. Threat assessment was his
specialty, leaving Christian to expect a fully revised protection plan from him
before they reached Mercedez-Benz stadium along with the names of the
additional guards that would be joining them.
There was nothing left to
do now but load up so they could get underway and hope he could hold his tongue
and his temper with his principal over the course of the six-hour drive. He
knew himself, and he knew the feelings he harbored for Micha, the ones he dared
never share and not just for the ethical reasons of it being irresponsible and
reckless to fall for the person you are supposed to guard. There was a glaring
age difference between them that would have made him reluctant to approach
Micha even in a club setting. When you coupled that with Micha’s exuberance,
imagination, and whimsical pursuit of all things legend, lore and mythology,
you wound up with a recipe for incompatibility.
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