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“Where the hell are you?” I roared. I had no clue how to find him, but I knew one thing.
Daniel Dalton just called me.
***
“Man, will you slow the hell down?” Zane grabbed our guitars and rushed to keep up with my erratic pace down the hallway of the station. “Who are you calling now?”
I ignored his incessant questioning and counted the rings until the brusque East Coast clipped voice picked up. “Jesus, Bale, I’m beginning to wonder if you have a crush on me.”
“He called.”
“What the fuck?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out the breath I’d been holding. The whole time I’d had armed guys watching over Phoebe, he’d been close enough to know the minute I’d left, and where I’d gone.
“Hough, I’m in Seattle, and the son of a bitch called the radio show.”
“Calm down, Julian. It’s a syndicated satellite show. We’re talking millions of callers. It could’ve been anyone. Did he call himself out? Did he say Daniel Dalton?”
Taking wide strides down a hallway lined with signed posters of multi-platinum artists, I pulled the phone away from my ear and yelled into the mouthpiece, “Goddamn it, Hough, stop asking me stupid questions. No, he didn’t use his real name. Do you think he’s avoided the police almost four years by being a fucking moron?” I angrily jerked the phone back to the side of my face.
“Then how can you be sure? Don’t send me on another wild goose chase, Bale.”
“He called himself Frank from Hollywood Hills. Start searching anyone with the name Frank. That asshole doesn’t do anything by accident.” I kicked the front door open and stalked toward the limo as it sat waiting in front of the building. Spotting us, the driver scrambled around the back of the car and opened the door. Zane crawled in behind me, dragging our guitars inside.
“But are you positive—”
“The deejay brought up Phoebe’s pregnancy, and he mentioned something about always keeping his eye on those princesses. He said he had one of his own, and he watched her as we spoke.”
“So?” Hough’s voice held slight trepidation.
“Only the people in my inner circle know I call Phoebe princess. He’s going after her, and he’s a ghost in the wind. I went through this shit with Tanna, Hough. I’m not waiting for him to make the first move. Take this asshole out.”
Hough sighed, and I imagined his worn hand scrubbing his face, mirroring my own actions. “I’ll see what I can do. Los Angeles isn’t my jurisdiction. I don’t know what I can do from New York.”
I knew what I wanted. I just hoped my royalty checks could buy a miracle. “Hough, I want you to hear me out before you say anything.”
“Shit.”
“I said listen, all right? I know you used to be a private investigator before you went blue. I can pay you. Take a vacation from the force and come to LA. I know you haven’t taken one in years. Take a leave of absence. Hell, I’ll pay your salary for the next six months. Just get here. I need someone I can trust. Don’t let me down, please.” Then I threw his own words in his face. It was a cheap shot, but I’d take all the Hail Marys I could pull out of my ass. “You said you considered Phoebe and me to be friends. I need you to prove that.” I held my breath and waited for him to respond.
“It’s not that easy. I have responsibilities. I have caseloads. Bale, I have a son. I can’t just pick up and move to LA on your whim.”
It sickened me to hear the panic in my own voice. But male pride had fallen to the bottom of my priority hierarchy. “Please, Hough. I’m losing my mind.”
He sighed. “Let me call my ex-wife. I’ll be in touch.” The call disconnected, and despite the panic squeezing my chest, a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I knew I’d be seeing Jaxon Hough sooner rather than later.
Dropping my phone in my lap, I stared straight ahead. As we headed to the airport, I cleared my throat. “You still have your friends on standby?”
Zane cracked the window of the limo and lit a cigarette, taking a few long drags. “Never left.”
“Are they still armed?”
He dropped a narrowed gaze at me. “What do you think?”
I dipped my chin and blew out a long breath for the first time since walking out of the studio. “Tell them to shoot to kill.”
