Glancing at the door, I quickly unfold it. There’s a picture of Roman from his high school yearbook. It’s been circled in red. He was hot even then. But why does Tori have it? I flip it over and notice more pics, but no notes. Maybe she did her own research before coming to the show. I sure did mine.
Folding the paper, I almost stick it back into the notebook, but something twists in my gut. I stare at her suitcase. How did she get a picture of him from his yearbook and why would she bring a tape recorder to the show? What would she use it for? And why so many lotions?
I stand and pace the room. She’s been so volatile. One day she’s nice, the next she’s hurling accusations. What does my gut say?
“Ms. Manning, I’m going to need you to move it along,” the guard says, sticking his head into the room.
I close Tori’s suitcase and put it back in the closet before quickly packing my belongings, along with the yearbook page. When I’ve gone through everything, I take one last look at the room. I’m going home, but just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I’m finished.
I close Deacon’s door behind me and smile. He’s more alert than usual and it makes me happy to know that after tonight, I’ll be able to spend a hell of a lot more time with him.
Glancing at my phone, I think of Reed. She hasn’t called or texted since she left last night, and I hope she’s not pissed at me. I fought to keep her, but she really lost her temper at the fake photographer. Watching her take him down in front of me was hot as fuck, but not EPO-worthy, according to JP.
Deciding to make the first move, I scroll through my contacts and pull her name up in my text window.
“Roman, you need to leave for the venue in ten minutes,” Clark says as he approaches. “Jen is waiting for you in your dressing room. We need to get there early to prep. It’s going to be a big day.”
I close my phone and head downstairs. I’ll have try again later.
My apartment doesn’t feel the same after living in Roman’s house. It’s cramped and way too quiet. But I slept like a rock and am way less stressed now that I’m home.
I’ve already gone to the station, submitted my paperwork, and picked up my badge. Even though I planned on taking another week off for the show, the chief agreed to let me waive my leave. I go back to work Monday. It feels good to be back on the force. I finished washing my clothes and I already put all my things away. I’m bored to tears.
I stare at my cellphone and will it to ring. I hoped maybe he would call or text, but nada. I know he’s at the Festival Concert tonight. I wish I could be there.
I google the venue to see what I’m missing. Crap! There are a few artists presenting along with Roman that I would have loved to see in person. I blew this on so many levels. I think back to the last challenge, then my time with Roman and how it felt to fall apart in front of him. He didn’t falter once.
My chest aches as I remember everything he told me about Deacon. I picture eleven-year-old Roman carrying the blame for his brother’s accident all these years, and wish I could take away his pain.
Remembering Tori’s picture of young Roman, I google him to see if I can find photos from when he was first discovered. I wonder how hard it must have been for her to get hold of his yearbook and that’s when I start to feel anxious again.
I end up at Wikipedia. Roman attended a private high school in Beverly Hills. Werchester Academy is prestigious and expensive. It turns out almost everyone that went there had money. I guess they offered a few scholarships to people who showed promise but couldn’t afford the tuition.
I wonder what it says about me online. After scrolling through all the information I can find about myself, I google the other contestants. After all, the show hasn’t aired. They probably haven’t wiped our personal stuff yet.
I laugh at Cedric’s Facebook photos. He’s got two daughters, both in college and his wedding photo shows a whole other side to him.
I pick up a chocolate chip cookie and stuff it in my mouth. Roman immediately comes to mind. These would be way too crispy for his liking. I contemplate baking him cookies as I search Tori’s name.
There isn’t much there. No Facebook profile, no Instagram, not even a LinkedIn profile. Am I being paranoid? Why does all of this bother me so much? She said she was from Utah.
I type in Tori Johnson, Utah. It asks me if I mean Victoria Johnson. Sure, why the fuck not. Still not much. I am able to find her known relatives: Grace Johnson, Abe Tucker and Florence Johnson Tucker.
I glance at my phone, noting the time and lack of phone calls. I click on Abe Tucker, which takes me to an Abe Tucker from Los Angeles. Huh, must be a mistake. But he is related to Florence Tucker, so maybe it is the same person. He’s also related to Victoria Tucker.
I’m not sure why, but I search Victoria Tucker, California. Chomping on another cookie, I almost choke on it. Holy shit!
Handing my cell over to Dawson for safekeeping, I change into the clothes Jen left out for me for tonight.
I open the door to tell her I’m ready to get pretty. She enters the room, eyes on the floor.
“You okay?” I ask. She seems oddly distracted and quiet. She’s never quiet.
“Yeah. You?”
“I’m good.”
She works on my eyeliner and that’s when I notice she’s crying.
I push the pencil away from my face. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Do you think I’m good at this job? I mean, do you think I could get hired by Seamore permanently?”
Confused, I shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
“Would you suggest me?”
“Sure. Do you need a letter of recommendation? I’d be happy to write one for you if you think it would help.”
“Why are you so nice to me?” she asks as the tears flow.
Crying women scare me. It seems like a loaded question. Am I nice to her or is she trying to say I’m not nice to her and she’s being sarcastic?
“I feel bad for everything I’ve done.”
Am I supposed to know what she’s talking about? She glances at me and I nod. Shit, was that a yes or no question?
“If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t be mad at me.”
Why would I be mad at her? Did she mismatch my clothes? “Jen, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s okay.”
“Really? Because I know Jean Paul and Esto thought it was a big deal. I assumed you had a bunch of them and with all your money, what was one more?”
“I’m not following.” I glance at the monitors. The contestants are leaving for the venue. They need to do a walkthrough and meet with the staff for interviews. It’s part of the challenge tonight.
“I mean, he was so cute and charming. He said after this was over, we could go on a date. Guys like him never flirt with girls like me. You know? I should have known better.”
“Jen, I really would love to hear all this, but I need to get going. Can we chat later?”
“Sure. Thanks for being so understanding. I feel bad she got sent home.”
“Who?” I’m so confused.
“Kari. I mean, after all it wasn’t her, it was me.”
“Tell me what you can find on a Victoria Tucker a.k.a Tori Johnson. I need it ASAP!”
“It’s nice to hear from you too, Reed.”
“Sorry, Andrea. I promise I’ll explain everything later. You may need to call in some favors.”
“Marty is working at the courthouse. He likes me. Let me see what I can do.”
As soon as I hang up, I open the pictures in two windows so I can view them side by side. She looks completely different, but Tori and Victoria are one and the same. When I searched Victoria Tucker, I found a newspaper article about school bullying. Eighteen-year-old Victoria Tucker was expelled from Louden High School for pushing a child down the stairs, breaking his arm, leg, and hip. He also had a fractured skull. He’d been bullying another kid and she said she was sticking up for him. The bullied kid, as well as the boy she pushed,
were still minors so their names weren’t listed.
I’m hoping Andrea can get their names for me. Maybe I’m overreacting, but I can’t help this feeling I have in my gut. It reminds me of what I felt right before I left the house yesterday. I should have paid closer attention.
My phone rings and I answer it immediately. “Well?”
“Again, ‘Hi, Andrea’ would be nice.”
“Dude, just tell me you got something.”
“I did. Victoria Tucker was eighteen at the time of the incident. She attended Louden for two years after transferring in from Werchester Academy. It’s weird. She had a full ride there. It’s a top-notch school and her parents pulled her and sent her to Louden. Louden was in the projects. It must have been a shell shock for her.”
I sit and try to process the information. Victoria, a.k.a Tori, went to the same high school as Roman. She had a picture of Roman from high school at the house. Why? Did she know him? Tori is thirty. Roman is thirty-one. Hmm.
“Oh…” Andrea continues, “The boy she pushed down the stairs was named Leo Miatkowski. He healed and was fine. The bullied kid she supposedly tried to help was her best friend. I guess he had a pretty rough life. Came from foster care and was in and out of homes. He was a straight A student but got picked on a lot by this Leo kid. I guess it was pretty damn brutal. Anyway, the kid she was protecting testified about all the stuff Leo had done to him through the years. Leo’s family was mortified and dropped the charges against Victoria. She was still expelled though. Anyway, the kid she saved was named Raul Martinez. Does any of this help?”
I fold into my chair. Raul and Tori knew each other. Why wouldn’t they say anything?
“Tell Esto what you told me.” I motion to Jen to talk into my speakerphone as we ride to the venue.
“So Raul asked me to get him the iPad. He said he needed it for part of the show. He asked me not to say anything and promised we’d get together after he won.”
“I want him gone, Esto,” Dawson states.
“I can see why you would, but we’ve already started filming the finale. How about if we release him right after the challenge?”
“No. He obviously set Kari up. I want him gone now.”
“I agree,” I say, backing up Dawson.
“Let me see what I can do. I’ll get back to you.”
As the phone clicks, Dawson turns to face me. “I don’t like this, Roman. I have a feeling Esto’s going to let him finish.”
“I never liked that guy. You need to keep him away from me tonight.”
Dawson nods.
“Did I do okay?” Jen asks.
“You did great,” I say, patting her leg. She gazes down at my hand and I instantly pull back. “Tell me what else you know.”
“Hi, Mrs. Tucker. My name is Reed Manning. I went to Werschester Academy with Victoria. We’re planning our fifteen-year reunion and I was wondering if you could give me her contact information.”
“You knew my daughter?”
“Oh yeah! We had English together. I always thought she was so nice. I never knew why she left. I wish we’d stayed in contact.”
“Well, Vicky was always a loner. I’m surprised you two were friends. She didn’t have many after all the rumors.”
“Rumors? Gosh, I never heard any of them. Is that why she transferred?”
“Oh yes. After that boy called her a mean name, everyone started repeating it. Pretty soon the rumors started, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She suffered so much, we finally pulled her out.”
“Poor Vicky. I wish I’d known. If you don’t mind my asking, what was it they said?”
“Well, like I said, it all started with that boy. He was cute and popular. He’d always been kind to her so she thought maybe he liked her. She was overweight and had terrible acne. She barely had any self-confidence. I can’t remember his name, but it took her weeks to get up the courage to tell him how she felt. He was nice enough to her face when he said they were just friends, but he called her Icky Vicky behind her back. Some other kids heard, and they started saying it too. It spread from there. They wrote it on her locker, chanted it when she’d walk into the room. Pretty soon they called her Dicky Vicky. They said she was so ugly she’d screw anything that moved. Then they started calling her Trucker the Fucker. It was awful. She’d come home every day in tears.”
“Poor Vicky. That’s awful.”
“She transferred to a new school. That didn’t go so well either, so she ended up moving in with her grandma in Utah. Even changed her name so she could forget it all. We barely even speak to her anymore.”
“If I said the name of the boy, do you think you’d remember him?” I ask her.
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time.”
“Roman Creed?” I ask, praying I’m wrong.
“Oh my. Yes, that was him. She always said she’d never forget him. She was never the same after that. It was like she snapped.”
Bryce walks away after his introduction. All cameras are on me as Tori, Cedric, and Raul stand nearby. They’re dressed in suits and fitted with earpieces. It’s almost time to start the challenge. I can’t believe Raul is still here after what he’s done, but Esto assured me I’ll have my chance to kick him to the curb as soon as this challenge is over. I’m doing my best to bite my tongue.
Dawson is nearby. He insisted he be present for the challenge and I’ll admit, I feel better knowing he’s got my back. This is a live event and I don’t need any more bad press. He keeps me focused.
His phone rings and he cringes, mouthing, “Sorry,” to me. He looks at the phone, then silences it and shoves it into his pocket.
Everyone seems a little on edge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say even Cedric was nervous. It’s a big night for them. How they perform tonight will determine whether or not they end up working for me.
Tori whispers something to Raul and he nods. I’ll be happy to see him go.
Why won’t Roman answer my calls? I’ve left him four messages already. Traffic is a nightmare. I’ve got to get to that venue. I have to tell him.
I dial his number again. It goes straight to voicemail. “Roman, listen to me! Get out of there right now. Tori has it in for you. Raul knows her. Please, Roman. Get away from her as soon as you can.”
My mind races with thoughts. Tori has a degree in Computer Science. She graduated at the top of her class in college but got fired and blacklisted when she was caught hacking. Then she went into bartending. Bartending… Wasn’t she in a hurry to get to the bar in the challenge? Didn’t she want to help Roman with the drinks in the kitchen? Oh crap. I told her he was allergic to honey after the first challenge, but there was no honey in the house so how could she have done it?
I gaze at my phone. It’s time to take this to the next level. Punching a number in my contact list, I make a call. He answers on the first ring.
“Chief, I’m going to need some help.”
So far things have gone smoothly. Cedric got me into the building and backstage. Raul has been monitoring me from the balcony above. Apparently, he thought there were some risk factors. I think it was a dumb move on his part, but considering he’ll be gone regardless, I don’t give a shit what he does. I’m just glad he’s far away from me.
Tori smiles. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I tell her.
“I want you to know, I’ve always been your biggest fan.”
I half smile at her. It’s an awkward time to tell me. “Thanks.”
“You know, I heard you were really popular in high school. There must have been a lot of girls who liked you.”
“A few.”
“I bet you broke a lot of hearts. Any regrets?”
“Not that I recall.” My mind wanders to Deacon. He’ll always be my biggest mistake.
“That’s what I figured you say. Good luck tonight.”
My head twists to regard her. She smiles brightly, and I turn face front. Something
feels off, but I can’t put my finger on it. The show must go on.
Abandoning my car on the street, I rush toward the venue. An officer yells at me, but I flash him my badge.
I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life, but I’ve never cared for anyone like I care for him.
I get to the side entrance before I’m stopped by security. I show them my badge. “Roman Creed is about to present the award for artist of the year. He’s in danger. I have it on good authority there is a threat to his life. You need to let me in this building now.”
“Calm down. We were told there might be extra issues with fans tonight. They’re filming inside. That’s a nice fake badge, but we can’t let you in, sweetheart.”
“Listen, fucker, call the chief of police. I just got off the phone with him. I’ve been trying to reach Dawson Hughes—he’s Roman’s head of security—but I can’t get through.”
They turn and raise their eyebrows at each other. I’m getting desperate. I pull out my gun and aim it them. “Open this door now or so help me, I’ll take you both down!”
The guard unlocks the door and I rush inside. I hear them reporting me on their radios. Let them tackle me to the ground. As long as he’s safe, I don’t care what happens to me. I can’t lose him.
“To present the award for artist of the year, please help me welcome from Core Damage, the one and only, Roman Creed.”
The music plays. Tori covers her headpiece and says, “I’m sure you’ll get exactly what you deserve.”
I furrow my brows as her words click in my head. I glance back at the main doors, where Dawson is standing. He’s on his phone. Of all times for him to take a personal call. He makes eye contact with me and I shake my head as I walk onstage. What do I do now?
He straightens his posture and talks into his headpiece. I swallow hard and smile at the audience. This is a live show. I’m sure I’m safe. I convince myself it’s true. “Thank you. I’m honored to be here tonight to present the award for artist of the year…”
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