Page 42 of Save Her from Me

We kept going, swift and purposeful.

At the end of the row of people, in the corner nearest the door, a man stared on. He didn’t call out but instead watched Leo as he jogged up the steps and went inside.

A spike of intuition pulled me up short.

I peeled away from the group the second everyone was inside.

“Sticking with the crowd a minute,” I informed the boss.

“Roger that,” he replied, giving me his trust.

I could only hope I’d earn it.

The four of them plus the studio’s team made their way down a corridor, safer now. I took up a sentinel post, keeping a close eye on the individual who’d caught my attention. The forty-something man stared at the doors, muttering something to himself. Plain black T-shirt. No bag. No phone in his hands.

He looked like someone’s boyfriend, not a fan, but no one turned to him. Yet he had the prime spot. Must’ve got there hours early to claim it.

A shout came from further to the left. I glanced at the fuss. A man and a woman tussled for the front spot, another guy grabbing the first dude by the shoulder. Not my problem.

But the distraction cost me. In the seconds it took me to turn back, the muttering man had gone.

I couldn’t see him anywhere.

I searched for a while longer then swore and gave it up, heading in to join my crew in the studio. Leo was in makeup, readying to go in front of the studio audience and the interviewer. I found Ben. He raised a quizzical eyebrow, and I gave a brief overview of what I’d seen.

“Not a face from our list?” he asked.

I shook my head, already certain of that.

“Tell me what raised your suspicions,” he asked.

That was harder. “He didn’t have a role there,” I settled on. “Fanatical fans wear merch, often homemade, and take pictures or video. They’re often with a friend or partner. They want to be seen by Leo. This man didn’t act like that. He wasn’t accepting the same freely available experience everyone else was.”

My sentence made more sense as I stumbled over it. “I could be wildly wrong, but if the only time you expect to see your idol is in those few seconds, you’re capturing that. Excited about it or overwhelmed. Why was he there?”

Ben’s eyes darkened. “Because he had another plan.”

My blood chilled.

I’d half expected him to tell me to drop it, but instead, my boss shifted tack.

“Valentine,” he called. On the appearance of my hulking colleague, Ben briefed him on what I’d seen and issued new instructions. “Val, once they admit the audience, you’ll be positioned at the back of the crowd. Jackson, you’ll be hard left, in plain sight and searching for that face. Act as we trained if anything arises.”

He clapped us both on our shoulders, Valentine abruptly turning away. An assistant scuttled down the hall, and people started hustling.

It was showtime.

To rapturous applause, Leo sauntered on stage, styled to within an inch of his life and a world apart from the frazzled new dad I’d attended at the hospital. I hadn’t known him long but I’d knownofhim for years. He’d sold out stadiums around the world and had multi-platinum-selling albums. His online followers adored him and defended him rigorously, including when he stopped meet and greets after his wife received threats.

He waved to the audience and shook the host’s hand, an ex-comedian who made a quip that earned an uproar of laughter. The interview commenced.

I spared only enough attention to know Leo was in place, but my focus was on the hundreds of people watching him. Five sections of fifteen rows, all filled.

As part of our risk assessment, we’d talked through the audience selection process. This was no walk-up. People had to apply and give photo ID. Bags and coats were left in lockers. That didn’t mean rogue fans couldn’t slip in or hide a weapon. One flaw that had caused an argument in the bodyguard office was the studio’s refusal to give us the audience list so we could cross-reference it.

Instead, they said they’d do that for us and be sure to cross off anyone we’d flagged. But their version of rigorous checking and ours likely looked very different.

Onstage, Leo confided to the talk show host and the audience of what would be millions when this was aired about the birth of his new son. The crowd cooed and shouted congratulations, some demanding a name which I knew he wouldn’t give. Neither Leo nor Viola were willing to give baby Torran’s identity out completely.

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