Page 18 of Songbird
“Have you been online recently?”
I check the time on my phone, notice that it’s already midmorning, then count back the hours. “About six or seven hours ago. Why?”
“Because a lot can happen in six or seven hours—and a lot did. I was already running the checks on both the client and Chip Daniels when the reports started to filter through.”
A pit opens in my stomach. “What reports?”
“Well, if I were a cynical man—”
“Youarea cynical man.”
He snorts. “Right. It’s a smear campaign. Early stages and no leads yet on the source, but major sites are reporting that Rosalie Thorne has got herself a lover—and that lover isn’t the man she’s marrying in three days.”
The hollow in my gut hardens. “I’ll tell you the source,” I grind out. “Chip.”
“Want to tell me why?”
“Off the record?”
“Of course.”
“She’s left him. He’s an abusive narcissist, and I need to know how safe it is for her to be out in the world with that guy as her enemy.”
A little way ahead, Dakota trots out from behind a shrub with a massive stick in her mouth, flops to the ground, and destroys it with hacking bites. I need to get the girl some breakfast.
“It’s unlikely Chip poses a risk to Rosalie’s physical safety,” Drew says, giving me a fleeting moment of relief. “With his history and profile, he’ll take out his aggressions on her bottomline, and look, if it was just about this smear campaign, I might tell you to stand down.” Drew clicks his tongue, and I get the sense he’s shaking his head. “But there’s more.”
My teeth crack with the tension in my jaw. “Yeah?”
“I’ve only spent a few hours on this so far, but given what happened last year in New Orleans, the first thing I did was try to locate the guy who nearly got to her.”
My hackles rise. “And?”
“We can’t find him.”
“Fuck.” I slam the side of my fist against the nearest tree trunk. “Fuck.”
“Yeah. Pretty much sums it up. Didn’t her previous security team know about this?”
“Good question,” I reply. “And one I wish I could answer for you.”
Drew mirrors my judgmental tone with a frustrated grunt. “I’ll keep looking and get back to you as soon as I can. In the meantime, I’ll get a remote team set up to monitor digital activity and assess the client’s social media platforms for threats and patterns.”
“Call me as soon as you know more. Day or night. Anytime.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks. And, uh…” Even with anxiety sharp like ice in my veins, my shoulders drop with a sudden surge of regret. “How are you doing? I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch before now. Not since the funeral.” I close my eyes. “I’m a jerk.”
“Nah. You’re not a jerk. I should have called to check in on you, too, and ask how Dakota’s doing there with you.”
I glance over at the Labrador that used to belong to Jack. When Jack died, Drew asked if I’d adopt Dakota and give her a home. It was enough that Drew had to take over Jack’s executive security firm and care for his parents after they lost their son. Providing for Jack’s dog was the least I could do. It also gaveme purpose at a tough time. And a year ago, I’d hoped it would lighten the guilt I felt about letting Jack down when he needed me. I suppose it does. A little.
“She likes it here,” I tell him. “Lots to explore. Eat. Destroy. You know.”
“Good. I’m glad. Jack would be too.”
“Yeah.”
