Obsession (2 page)

He had moved to Phoenix to start fresh, to work where no one knew him. Here, he was just another FBI agent, someone who had sworn to protect rather than someone who needed to be protected. Tonight, he was on equal footing with the other members of the four-man team, and they had a job to do.

Agent Ray Underwood motioned to Charlie, and together they made their way to the front door while the other two agents positioned themselves near the rear entrance in case their suspect tried to rabbit out the back.

The man who reportedly lived inside was known to his neighbors as a pillar of the community, an example of the American dream. Charlie knew better. According to the FBI’s latest information, thirty-four-year-old Terrence Colter had built his small fortune by exploiting teenage girls, luring them into the dark underworld of pornography.

The FBI’s Phoenix office had been investigating Colter for months, but solid evidence had been hard to come by. They had the proof now, but it had come with a high price: the life of a fourteen-year-old runaway from Albuquerque.

Charlie’s stomach curled at the thought of what this man had done—using the young girl to profit his business and then killing her when she crossed him. The girl had tried to call for help, her screams alerting a nearby pedestrian.

The witness had gotten only a glimpse of the man running away from the scene of the crime, but the general description had matched their suspect. A fingerprint lifted off of the victim’s watch had confirmed their suspicions, and Charlie expected that DNA testing would prove that the skin under the girl’s fingernails belonged to Colter. Finding the murder weapon would be the icing on the cake, but one way or another, Terrence was looking at a long sentence behind bars.

Charlie’s heart pounded against his ribs as they reached the front door, and someone inside cranked the music up to deafening. Ray shifted to the side of the door and lifted a hand to knock. As he pounded his fist against the door, he heard a scream rise above the music.

Ray shouted, “FBI! Open up!”

Charlie couldn’t make out the muffled sounds over the music, but he thought he heard glass shattering against a hard surface. With his weapon already drawn, Ray slammed a shoulder into the door and forced it open. Charlie followed behind him, his eyes already scanning inside for movement.

The dining room to the left of the front door was empty, and both men quickly focused on the activity down the hall. They moved toward the music and into a huge living room that stretched along the back wall. Flood lights were set up around the room, along with a camera on a tripod. One of the lights was on the ground, fragments of the light bulb scattered beside it.

Standing in front of the camera was a hollow-eyed girl wearing a flimsy robe. Her bloody lip suggested that the scream had come from her. The fact that the man standing next to her was holding a knife practically ensured it.

“FBI! Drop the knife, and keep your hands where I can see them,” Charlie shouted, his gun trained on the man with the streaked blond hair.

Terrence turned, his eyes hot with anger and indignation as the girl quickly moved out of his reach. His words were lost in the music, but Charlie caught the general gist of the obscenities being shouted at him. Then Ray shut off the music, and the protests sputtered out.

“What do you think you’re doing, bursting in here like this? I told Rinaldo that I’d have the prints to him by tomorrow.”

Charlie’s eyebrows lifted. The music had obviously masked his words when he had identified himself, and it appeared that Terrence had mistaken who they were and why they were here. “Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time.” With his weapon still trained on the suspect, he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved his ID. “We’re with the FBI.”

“There must be some mistake. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Little beads of sweat formed on Colter’s upper lip. “You need probable cause before you can come breaking into someone’s home.”

“We have a warrant.” Ray pulled the folded court document from his pocket as the other two agents entered through the back door. “This gives us the right to search the premises. Now drop the knife, and place your hands on your head.”

“This is absurd.” Colter stared at the gun Charlie was still pointing at him and slowly opened his fingers and let the knife drop to the floor. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Charlie’s jaw twitched, but he held his position as Ray stepped forward and cuffed him.

Ray squeezed the cuffs a little too tight and said the words Charlie had been waiting for. “Terrence Colter, you are under arrest for the murder of Megan Robertson.”

“Megan?” The girl in front of them shrieked. “She’s dead?”

Charlie nodded, but before he could offer any explanation or condolences, he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. Charlie swung around to face the stairway and saw a gun and the hand that held it.

“Drop it!” Charlie ordered as he took aim and let his eyes glance up at the man’s face.

He saw the intent immediately. He had seen it before. In one seemingly effortless motion, Charlie shifted to the left as a shot rang out. Then Charlie pulled his trigger. The gunshot merged with the man’s cry of pain as the man jerked back against the stair railing and then slid to the floor.

* * *

The floor vibrated as Kendra’s captivating voice filled the STAPLES Center in Los Angeles. The chaos backstage calmed as everyone’s attention shifted to the stage and the woman singing in the center of it.

Lingering in the shadows, he watched and waited as the crew settled in to enjoy the show. The first song drew tremendous applause, and Kendra bantered with the crowd before segueing into the next number. As the third song began, he stepped out of his hiding place, now certain that no one would notice him.

He moved down the hall and past the main-level dressing rooms, fully aware that he didn’t have to worry about keeping his movements quiet. The tremendous noise from the music and the crowd would drown out any sound he might make.

His fingers gripped the cardboard box he held, and his eyes focused on his target. He passed the green room, glancing briefly at the cluster of chairs inside where the band could relax before and after the show. In front of him was the deep stage, only a small portion of which was currently being used for the concert. A thick black curtain sectioned off Kendra’s band from the dark backstage area that was crowded with various equipment.

He was nearly to the edge of the center curtain when he noticed Kendra’s bodyguard approaching. Unlike everyone else backstage, his attention wasn’t on the performance, but rather, his eyes scanned the area looking for anything out of place.

Annoyance shot through him in a quick burst. Why was Dustin here right now? Why wasn’t he on the other side of the stage where he was supposed to be?

Moving quickly, he stepped behind the curtain and let the deep folds of heavy fabric surround him. His heart raced for a moment. Then he remembered why he was here. He was supposed to be here to take that next step toward his future, the future he had been waiting for.

He peeked out into the wings of the stage where Dustin was still standing like a Doberman anxious to sniff out trouble. His jaw clenched as he considered his options. He couldn’t let Dustin see him, but he certainly wasn’t going to let him ruin his plans.

Shifting to the left, he felt something beneath his foot and heard the muffled clang of metal rolling on the floor. His heartbeat jumped into his throat, his eyes darting to Dustin to see if he’d heard the sound or sensed the movement. To his relief, Dustin hadn’t moved from his spot; he was still standing stage left where he could monitor the backstage activity.

He let an expulsion of breath escape, and he looked down at the long, thin length of metal beneath his foot. Leaning down, he picked it up and discovered that it was a section of a microphone stand.

He set his package beside the curtain, and his gloved fingers curled tightly around the cold metal as he watched and waited. Several minutes passed before Dustin finally shifted his body to look down the hall, leaving his back exposed.

Seizing the opportunity he had been waiting for, he moved quickly, wielding the piece of metal like a weapon in the air. Then without any hesitation, he brought it down with force, and it connected with the back of Dustin’s head.

Dustin’s moan was silenced in the music as he collapsed on the floor.

With some effort, he leaned down, gripped the larger man’s arms, and dragged him behind a riser. Once he was satisfied that Dustin was no longer visible, he moved back to where he had left his package and made his way deeper backstage.

The boards beneath his feet vibrated with the music as he surveyed his possibilities. Risers, floodlights, and various musical equipment were crammed together in no apparent order. He noticed the wide spotlight located near the edge of stage left, not far from where the opening band’s drums were still set up on a riser. He considered the angles and the possibilities as one song ended and another began.

He stopped and listened, his heart squeezing in his chest as Kendra began singing his favorite song—a slow ballad about searching for love. Even though she couldn’t see him, he knew her words were meant for him.

Soon she would find out what they could have together. He let himself dream of their future for a minute, of that moment when she would finally see him for what he really was—the only man who could ever truly love her. Ah, she was a fool—a beautiful fool—for not seeing it already.

Drawing a deep breath, he slowly opened the box he held to reveal the homemade explosive that he had designed himself. Slowly, methodically, he connected it to the underside of the spotlight and set the timer. He stared down at it, double checking every detail as the song ended and the noise from the crowd spiked again.

As Kendra Blake started into another song, he contemplated how her fans would react when they experienced the surprise he had in store for them. She deserved more than what her fans could give her, and soon they would understand that she wasn’t performing for them.

She was performing for him alone.

A single press of a button started the countdown. He shifted back into the wings of the stage, where he could peer through the curtains. Kendra’s blonde hair bounced with her movements as she crossed the stage, her voice captivating the audience. She was perfect, more perfect than any of the others. She was his now, even if she didn’t know it yet.

In a few minutes, she would learn that she wasn’t safe in front of all these people, and finally, he would have her to himself.

With a sense of anticipation rushing through him, he started down the hall and listened to the words Kendra sang for him.

* * *

Kendra stared out at the crowd, wondering if she would ever get used to this overwhelming feeling of seeing people singing along to a song she had written. Her legs felt like rubber as she moved with the music, but she didn’t care. She was as captured by the fans as they were by her.

Only after she finished the last song did she begin to feel the exhaustion and the sweat dripping down her back. She exited stage left the moment the lights dimmed. The entire arena was encased in darkness for a brief moment before the houselights were brought up. Then the rumble of applause crescendoed as the crowd demanded yet another encore.

“Are we going back out again?” Zack asked as he joined her, looking out at the crowd.

Her shoulders lifted. “I try to draw the limit at three encores.”

“Come on, Kendra,” Ben Artina said, tapping his drumsticks together. “This is our hometown. Let’s give them one more before we send them on their way.”

Kendra considered briefly, and then she nodded and lifted her hands in surrender. “Why not.”

She signaled the stage manager, and a moment later the houselights began to flicker and then dim. Instantly, the crowd erupted with deafening screams and applause.

A new wave of energy pulsed through Kendra, her previous nerves long forgotten. She grinned at her band and then glanced over at her manager, who was standing in the wings.

A flicker of surprise rushed through her when she noticed that Dustin wasn’t in his usual position at the edge of the center curtain. A little red flag went up in the back of her mind, and her brow furrowed slightly. Not once could she remember a time when he hadn’t been at her side the moment she’d stepped off the stage.

Then she heard her cue, and she let herself get swept up in the moment. She jogged onto the stage, all thoughts of Dustin quickly forgotten.

The drums started and set the beat. The keyboard joined in, followed by the guitar and bass. Then Kendra lifted the microphone, and her voice filled the arena once more, the music competing with the rumble of the crowd. She moved from one side of the stage to the other, reaching a hand out to connect with the fans in the front row.

When the guitar player started his solo, she moved back across the stage, her steps timed to the beat of the song. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of movement. Then she noticed Dustin stumbling near the edge of the stage.

Her first thought was that Dustin was back where he was supposed to be, but then she noticed the way he grabbed onto the curtain as though he couldn’t quite support his own weight. One part of her brain was tuned into the music, listening for her next cue, but the other part let an underlying sense of concern flood through her as she saw Dustin take a staggering step forward.

One of the backstage security guards rushed to his side, and Kendra tried to focus once more on the music and her upcoming cue. Then she saw Dustin motion wildly toward the stage. She wondered what could have upset—

Before she could finish her thought, an explosion rocked the stage and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Curtains and equipment crashed down behind them. Shards of glass and mangled metal spewed through the air. Intense screams erupted from the crowd.

Kendra’s microphone flew out of her hand, and the blast sent her body hurtling through the air. She could see the stage floor rising too quickly, and she slammed down hard on it.