Page 21 of You Found Me

Labor Day weekend was a bitch of a time to do any kind of investigating.

Ward leaned against the hood of his SUV in the parking lot of one of the largest sporting venues in California and contemplated the arena that was already beginning to fill with people.

Ms. Bellamy’s stalker had managed to bypass a dozen layers of security with nothing but a baseball cap and a vase filled with flowers. He’d done it on a day when the arena was on high alert because of the show. And he’d vanished from all camera feeds before he even reached the first exit point.

Ward and his team agreed the guy had acted alone. He hadn’t paid someone to sneak in. A paid actor wouldn’t have been that cautious or that capable.

Who the hell was this guy?

Two weeks in, they were no closer to the answer. All they really knew was their suspect was no casual fan. He sure as hell wasn’t an average, everyday stalker either. This guy had major computer skills and an agenda that had long ago descended from casual into full-force obsession. The letter and emails proved that.

The stalker had waited over two years to escalate in any meaningful way.

What was the trigger?

Maybe because he saw Ms. Bellamy often? Had the recent tour taken her out of his line of sight?

A line of cars rumbled past him, filled with overly enthusiastic fans of some big-name singer. The sweet smell of pot tickled his nose. Someone in a cherry-red Mustang tossed a crumpled can out a window. It rattled to a stop not far from Ward’s SUV, spilling a trail of beer.

He was glad tonight’s security wasn’t his job. It would take an army of well-trained specialists to even come close to something resembling control with this kind of crowd. He was convinced no venue this large would ever be completely secure anyway. There were too many ways in. Too much distraction. Next to no control of outside forces like rabid fans and entitled celebrities. It was hard enough dealing with them one-on-one. Never mind when they were in full look-at-me mode.

Then again, if his deal with Renic held up, celebrities and arena shows would make up the bulk of his business.

Would it be worth it?

He ran a quick calculation of the dollar figure Renic had promised per show, then multiplied that by the number of artists Renic managed and the average number of shows they put on per year. He added the attendance bonus as he watched the steady stream of cars filled with concert-goers roll by.

The total would be life-changing.

Visions of satellite offices across the country, then around the globe, danced through his head. It was a steady, stable future that provided protection done the right way.

Working shows like this would allow him to give the women who wouldn’t usually be able to afford his services a place to turn when they needed help the most.

His mother could have used that kind of help.

Yes. It would be worth it.

His phone buzzed with an incoming call. He checked the ID.

FG.

Front gate.

Dread crawled across the back of his neck. “Ward,” he answered on the second ring.

“Uh, sir, the protectee…”

“My name is Della!” Ms. Bellamy shouted in the background.

“…is at the gate, sir. She’s requesting permission to leave with her personal protection…”

“His name is Greg,” Ms. Bellamy said. “And yours is Brian, in case it’s been so long since he’s let you use it that you’ve forgotten.”

“…for a burger, sir.”

“A burger,” Ward repeated.

“Yes, sir. And fries.”

---