Page 83 of Hunted Hearts
No.
His chest tightened. He sprinted for the dressing room. The corridor blurred around him, and he nearly mowed down a couple of lingering guests catching a bit of private time.
He skidded to a stop in front of the dressing room and burst into the room.
“Juliette?” he bellowed, voice shredded as he slammed the door off the wall.
Empty.
He tore into the space. The bathroom was empty.
His gaze landed on the roses, a bouquet he’d picked out himself and had Aspen drop off while Juliette was onstage so she would return and see them.
A howl built inside him.
He slammed his hand against the wall. “Goddamn it!”
“Theo?” Gray was right behind him.
He turned, chest heaving. “She’s gone.”
“What?”
“She’s gone! Her violin’s missing.” Fury blazed through him, making him sway.
Denver strode to the purse dropped on the floor, the contents spilling out. He picked up something. “But her phone’s still here.”
Oaks barreled in. “I just swept the exit. None of the valets saw her.”
Theo was already moving. “Pull the feeds. Find out what vehicle she left in. If it’s even on the cameras.”
Denver peeled off toward the main office. Theo followed him, fingers itching to wrap around someone’s throat. Anyone’s. Whoever took her.
In the security office, Denver scanned the tapes. “Here.” He rewound the footage.
Theo leaned close to the screen, watching in horror as Juliette exited the building, her violin clutched to her chest.
Denver said what Theo already saw on the screen. “She came out the side. Alone. No struggle. Got into a black limo.”
Theo’s stomach dropped, bowels turning to water. “License plate?”
“Blurry. Looks like there was interference.”
“Of course there was.” Theo raked a hand down his face.
“They waited until she was alone,” Oaks said grimly. “When she’d let her guard down.”
Whenhehad let her down.
Theo clenched his jaw so hard it ached. He should’ve known. Should’ve stayed at her side. Should’ve done everything differently.
The phone in Oaks’s hand rang.
Theo stared at it for a wild pulse. “That’s not Juliette’s phone. Give it to me!”
Oaks thrust it at him, and for a beat, he froze, then answered the unknown number. “Malone.”
A distorted voice crackled through. “We’ve got something you want.”
