Page 200 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

“No. No,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t.” My voice strengthened. “Never. Especially not now.”

Noah pointed at the chair. “You, sit. Until I can get this shit handled.”

“Hell no.”

Noah got in my face. “Don’t make me shoot you. I’d enjoy it far too much right at this moment.”

I shut my mouth until he moved away. More orders were being barked into two different walkie-talkies.

My pocket vibrated. Since there were so few people who had my number…maybe.

I took it out and saw a text message picture. Lindsey and I. It was grainy, but I knew her body anywhere. And that light beam of angelic hair shone like a spotlight even in the dimmest light.

Jamie snatched the phone out of my hand. “What the fuck is this?”

“I don’t know,” I said as she shoved the phone back at me.

Another picture came through, this time more slowly. A video? Jamie growled and peered over the top of the screen to watch. Us again. Not today. Lindsey smiling up at me. Last night. At her brownstone. She’d wanted a bubble bath in her own tub.

How could I say no to anything she wanted?

We’d been on her balcony. The moon had been a beacon, but the quiet had been the ultimate lure. She was supposed to be safe in her own home, goddammit.

The plastic case on my phone crackled from my grip.

It was too loud in the room to hear if there was sound, but I could see her laughing. The way she looked at me.

Fuck.

How close had he been?

“Kyle.”

“No, you.” Jamie’s words were a snarl. “Every video shows you taking her out of here.”

“What?” My chest tightened. “I saw her just before she went on stage. She was getting ready to do ‘Judgment’ like always. I watched her rise up on that hydraulic lift with her fucking piano. She was safe on stage.”

The only place she’d been truly safe.

For the last week and a half, we’d been locked down in hotels. Even though her stalker had been jailed, he was free again. They couldn’t hold him without proof.

But I knew it wasn’t him.

Knew it in my bones. It wasn’t that fanatical bloke who’d burst into the hallway in Richmond. He didn’t have this kind of IQ. Not to take her out of the building out from under all of this security.

“Mr. Nash?”

“Just Nash,” I said automatically to the cop who came over. His badge was hanging around his neck on a chain.

“I’m Detective Adams.”

“Did you find her?”

“We’re doing everything we can—”

“How did he walk her out of here? How did no one see it? There’s a dozen fucking security people around her all the time.”

“From what I’m being told, everyone thought she was leaving with you.”

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