Obsession (3 page)

To her right, Ben’s drums flew off of their riser, and Ben was thrown to the floor beside them. In front of them, the other band members and the fans dropped to the ground in an effort to avoid the flying debris.

From the depths of the stage, flames spiraled upward, and smoke filled the air.

Before Kendra could try to sit up, footsteps sounded, and she felt hands pulling her away from the heat and the flames. Dazed and confused, Kendra could only stare as her fans crowded toward the exits and chaos reigned.

Charlie walked into his sparsely furnished apartment and locked the door behind him. He toed off his shoes and then immediately reached for the remote to turn on the television. A late night movie wasn’t something he would normally watch, but at least the dialogue would help drown out the silence.

The events of the night replayed through his mind as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch. He sat down, immediately dropping his head into his hands as he fought back his emotions. His stomach curled at the realization that someone had tried to kill him—that someone had nearly succeeded.

Charlie took a deep breath, a silent prayer of gratitude running through his mind that he had survived another shooting. On the heels of that silent prayer was a new resolve to hide this part of his job from his family. He reached for the framed photograph on the end table and stared down at it. His parents stood in the center, surrounded by their children and grandchildren.

His gaze lingered on the woman beside him in the photograph and on the diamond ring sparkling on her left hand. He never would have guessed the day that picture was taken that only two weeks later, one dream would come true while another would shatter. When the memory of that last day with Lisa flashed into his mind, he didn’t even try to fight it.

Charlie hung up the phone, both thrilled and stunned at the news. They wanted him. The FBI wanted him. Everything he’d ever dared hope for was about to be his. In a few short months, he would be married to a beautiful woman whom he adored, and now the career that he had secretly dreamed about for the past four years was going to be his.

Barely able to contain his excitement, Charlie quickly finished getting ready for his engagement party that would begin in a matter of minutes. Then he hurried down the stairs of his childhood home and headed straight for the guest room.

He rapped on the door, his smile widening when Lisa pulled it open. As always, her short chestnut-brown hair was perfectly styled, and her makeup was flawless. Her dark brown eyes met his expectantly. “Are the guests here?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie said, even as the doorbell rang. “I have some great news. I just got a job offer.”

Her face lit with anticipation, and she reached for his hands. “Already? I thought Harrison & Bates wasn’t making their decision until next month.”

“The job isn’t with Harrison & Bates.” Charlie’s eyes were alive with excitement. “I got accepted by the FBI.”

She stared blankly at him before she echoed, “The FBI?”

“I can’t believe I made it in. I’ll find out next week when I’m scheduled to start at the FBI Academy.”

“Wait a minute.” Her voice was incredulous. “You already accepted the job?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, puzzled by her expression. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You accepted the job without even discussing it with me?” She pulled her hands free of his and took a step back. “How could you do that?”

“Wait a second. Is it the fact that I didn’t talk it over with you first or is it the job itself that’s the problem?”

“I can’t believe you would seriously consider taking a job like this.”

Charlie felt his reality shift before his eyes. “I thought you would be happy for me. This is a job I’ve dreamed of getting for years.”

Lisa shook her head and crossed her arms firmly across her chest. “You’ll never make any real money, and it certainly won’t be of any use to you when it comes time to run for office.”

“I never said I was going to run for office. Where did you get that idea?”

“Your father, for one. He said that with your personality and your law degree from Georgetown, you could take his job someday if you wanted it.”

“Just because I
could
run for office doesn’t mean I want to,” Charlie said, his heart squeezing in his chest. “The idea that I would try for Dad’s seat in the Senate when he retires has been a running joke in my family since I was a kid. I don’t think anyone ever really expected that it would happen.”

Lisa held up one hand. “So let me get this straight. You’re telling me that the man I plan to marry has no other ambition in life besides carrying around a gun and playing policeman every night. What am I supposed to do? Sit around and clip coupons?”

Charlie stared down at her, his mind trying to comprehend how this woman he thought he knew had turned into someone else right before his eyes. “You’re in law school too. I thought you wanted to work until we started a family.”

“Yes, because it looks good for a politician’s wife to have a solid résumé.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.” Lisa rolled her eyes before staring up at him. “I spend six months dating someone from a solid family, someone who is going places in life, then all of a sudden, he’s going to walk away from all the opportunities sitting in front of him to go play cops and robbers. That’s not what I thought I was signing up for. What else have you been planning for our future without telling me?”

Charlie took a deep breath and then took a deliberate step back, disgust and confusion warring with each other. “I’m starting to wonder if you really love
me
or if you love the idea of marrying the senator’s son.”

“Of course I love you, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to see you throw your future away.” Lisa took a step forward and ran her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. Smiling seductively, she continued, “Sweetheart, you’re destined for more than working a menial job with minimal pay. We should be thinking about celebrating our future together. I’m sure we can find a more suitable job for someone with your connections. Why don’t you go call the FBI and tell them you changed your mind?”

Slowly, he shook his head and took a step back. All he could see were two paths before him. He could be the man Lisa wanted him to be and try to fill his father’s shoes, or he could follow his dreams and forge his own path—alone.

“I have changed my mind,” he said softly. “But not about the job.”

Lisa’s shock had quickly turned to fury. When she had stormed out of the house a short while later, she had left Charlie with a diamond ring, two nonrefundable tickets to the Bahamas, a houseful of family and friends, and the stunning realization that he had nearly married a complete stranger.

Looking back now, Charlie knew that Lisa had let him see what he had wanted to see. He had gotten distracted by the outer package without taking the time to know the woman within. He promised himself he wouldn’t make that mistake a second time.

Charlie indulged in one last look at the photograph before setting it aside. Lisa wasn’t part of his life anymore, and it was time for him to start looking forward instead of living in the past.

* * *

“Can you think of anyone who could have set off the explosive device at your concert?” Detective Dan Eadelton asked gently. “An old boyfriend or someone you might have fired recently?”

Kendra shook her head, her body still trembling even though she had arrived home more than an hour before. An ambulance attendant had checked her out and bandaged the minor cuts she had sustained when she was thrown to the floor. Then she had been allowed to go home. She still couldn’t believe that someone had planted a bomb backstage. A small bomb, according to the detective—but a bomb nonetheless.

Dustin had been the closest person to it and was currently at the hospital in stable condition. Ben, her drummer, had suffered a broken arm, and several other people backstage had been taken to the hospital for various broken bones and burns. Kendra considered it a minor miracle that more people hadn’t been injured.

She tried to concentrate on the detective’s questions, despite the constant throbbing in her head. “I haven’t dated anyone recently, and it’s been more than three months since anyone left the band.”

“Who was that? Why did he leave?”

“Adam Templeton,” Kendra said. She saw the light go on in the detective’s eyes, but she expounded on her answer anyway. “He signed a contract as a solo artist with my record label. It was time for him to branch out on his own.”

“Have you received any threatening letters or phone calls? Any unusual fan mail?”

Kendra shook her head, but she turned to Greg Young, her manager, for confirmation.

“She always gets a few obsessive letters from fans, but nothing out of the ordinary,” Greg told him. “Of course, we’ve had a few nasty e-mails about Kendra winning best female artist at the Grammys.”

“What kind of e-mails?”

“Just fans of the competition complaining that someone else should have won,” Greg told him. “From what I understand, this kind of thing is pretty common.”

“The e-mails might be, but bombs sure aren’t,” Detective Eadelton said. “I suppose it’s possible that some obsessed fan got backstage and set off a bomb to scare Miss Blake. For now, I would suggest you stay home for at least a couple of days while we pursue our investigation.”

Greg looked from the detective to Kendra. “As much as I hate to do it, I think it’s only logical to cancel your concert tomorrow night. Ben can’t play, and I’d rather not bring in a last-minute replacement under the circumstances.”

Kendra nodded, not sure if she should feel relieved or disappointed.

Detective Eadelton stood and took a step forward. “I assume you have a security system here in the house, but we’ll have a cruiser parked outside just to be safe.” He handed Kendra a business card. “Please give me a call if you think of anything else.”

Kendra managed to nod as the detective turned and Greg escorted him out. Then she felt reality crash over her. She knew what it was like to have strangers watching her constantly, limiting her activities. She remembered all too well the lack of privacy, the overwhelming feelings of invasion and oppression. Her chest tightened, and she tried to fight back the anxiety that threatened.

A moment later, Greg returned and held out a cordless phone. “Kendra, I’m sorry, but your father is on the phone.”

The mention of her father kicked her anxiety into high gear. She had to force herself to reach her hand out to take the phone. She could already imagine her father’s reaction to the news that someone had bypassed security, overpowered her bodyguard, and then planted some kind of bomb backstage. The fact that her parents hadn’t already shown up on her doorstep confirmed that they were still in New York, where her father was scheduled to appear as a guest on one of the late-night TV shows.

She stared down at the phone for a moment and took a steadying breath. “Hi, Dad.”

“Baby! Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Sterling said, his voice both relieved and concerned. “Are you okay? I can’t believe someone got past your security.”

Kendra glanced down at her arms, at the ugly scrapes and minor burns that had resulted from the explosion. “I’m fine.”

“And I’m going to make sure you stay that way. I’m sending a car to pick you up and bring you home,” he told her. “Your mother and I will catch the next flight out.”

A fresh wave of panic rushed through her at the thought of moving back into her father’s home, of living with a dozen guards and the carefully controlled schedule, of losing her right to make any decisions for herself without her father’s permission. “No, Dad. I’m staying here. There’s no reason for you to come home early.”

Sterling hesitated briefly, and then his determined voice came over the line once more. “If you won’t move home, then we’ll enhance your security. I’ve already talked to Bruce Parsons. He and Alan can be over there within the hour. Alan can take over for Dustin until he gets out of the hospital.”

“I don’t want a house full of security people.” A wave of nausea threatened as Kendra considered what it would mean to have her father’s head of security take over her protection again. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Kendra, you aren’t fine. The bomb at your concert could have killed you.”

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “But it didn’t.”

“I’m not going to take chances with your safety,” Sterling insisted. “Bruce and Alan will be at your house shortly. Let them help you.”

Kendra swallowed her objections, already knowing her father would ignore them. Instead, she simply said, “Good-bye, Dad.”

“Be safe, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kendra said softly and then hung up the phone. She stared at it for a long moment. An image of what her life would soon be like flashed into her mind and pressed on her. What little privacy she had gained would disappear the moment Bruce Parsons walked through her door.

His paranoia, his insistence on constant surveillance, would stifle her just as it had during her teenage years. Bruce’s son, Alan, seemed to understand her almost desperate need for some space, but undoubtedly, he would follow his father’s instructions and effectively smother whatever creativity she still had left.

As a teenager, Kendra had locked herself in her room with her guitar to find peace and solitude. Writing music gave her that sense of freedom she always craved but could never quite grasp. Bruce’s men didn’t know how to protect her without hovering, without invading her personal space.

How often had she discovered a wonderful melody or figured out the perfect lyrics only to have them skip right out of her head when a bodyguard came knocking on her door? How many times had she attempted to take a walk on the beach to gather her thoughts only to be told she couldn’t go? Could they not understand that she needed time alone—time without a constant audience?