Trouble Rising (New Adult Rock Star Romance): Tyler and Katie's Story #3 (13 page)

But he wouldn’t use Warren, would he?

Not if he didn’t want me to find him.

The thought of Tyler checking into a hotel in the middle of the afternoon with
her
—Alisha-
I’ll-Do-Anything-For-An-Interview-including-you
-McKenna—made my whole body shake with anger.

“Katie, breathe,” Leanne murmured, patting the hand resting on my knee. “I’m sure it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“It better not be,” I said darkly, trying to wish the traffic away.

On my phone, the blue dot was still there, blinking inside the L.A. Hilton. A hotel in the middle of the afternoon. What else could it be?

It was bad enough that Jay had gone missing—and I had no idea what to do about that. It was worse that Leanne had found that strange, incriminating photo of Arnie from a million years ago. I didn’t like any of the things it might imply, and I really didn’t like Leanne’s “bad feeling” about the whole thing.

But the fact that my husband wasn’t answering his phone and I’d found him at the Hilton was just the cherry on the cake of my already crappy day. I’d dismembered him every which way in my head by the time Leanne pulled up to the front and handed the keys to the Subaru Tyler had bought for her to the valet.

“Katie, wait for me,” she called, huffing as she tried to keep up.

I looked at my phone, swearing at the GPS map. It showed Tyler’s phone, and now mine, close together. But it wasn’t clear enough for me to tell just exactly where he was. Which room?

“Katie.” Leanne’s hand on my arm. I looked up at her, then followed the line of her finger, where she was pointing.

It was Tyler, sitting in the restaurant. He was facing us, although he hadn’t seen me or his mother. He nodded and said something to the person across from him. I couldn’t see who it was, because they were in a booth.

Lunch.
He’d just gone to lunch. Probably with a co-star or maybe he’d called Rob to meet him. I was so stupid, doubting him, even for a second, and I felt instantly ashamed. My cheeks flushed with it.

I stood, frozen, unsure whether to go forward or turn around and go home. But I had to talk to him. Jay was gone—and then there was the picture Leanne had stuck in her purse.

“It’s okay,” I breathed, looking at Leanne, seeing the concern on her face. I started across the lobby, heading for Tyler, so relieved my knees almost buckled with it. “I just—”

Then I stopped.

Tyler was sitting across from a woman.

Which, in and of itself, wasn’t a big deal.

But the woman was a redhead—no doubt about that. She was leaning over in the booth, maybe rummaging in her purse, so I couldn’t see her face—her long red hair fell across her cheek.

But I saw her name flash in my head, like a neon sign.

Alisha McKenna.

“Sonofabitch,” I whispered.

“Katie,” Leanne warned, grabbing my arm, but it was too late.

I’d already decided.

I was going to kill her.

With my bare hands.

“You can’t,” Tyler said, leaning back in the booth. I was close enough now to see there was no food in front of either of them. “Those records are sealed.”

“Leaks happen,” the redhead said with a shrug.

Tyler looked up as I approached and I saw his eyes light up in surprise—
yeah I bet you’re surprised, Mr. Hotel in the Afternoon
—but I was focused on the ginger in front of him. I’d deal with Tyler after I shaved her head, dipped her in honey and set her on an ant hill. Or something equally awful.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snapped. Leanne came up behind me, and I heard Tyler say, “Mom?” but I ignored that too.

“Excuse me?” The redhead looked up at me, and I saw instantly that she wasn’t
the
redhead. Alisha McKenna had freckles, and while her hair was the same color, I realized, now that I was up close, that the clothes were all wrong. This woman was wearing a respectable pant suit Hillary Clinton would be envious of. Alisha liked skirts and low-cut blouses. Alisha reminded me of a ginger Jennifer Tilly. This woman was more Julianne Moore.

“Katie.” Tyler stood, taking my arm, frowning at me, then at his mother, like he wasn’t sure what in the hell we were doing here, but he didn’t like it. “Uh… excuse us for a moment…”

He moved to lead me away, but I wasn’t having it.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I shook Tyler’s hand off my arm. “Until you tell me what Ms. Silence of the Lambs is doing here.”

Tyler looked at me, stunned. Then he looked at the redhead and burst out laughing.

“Goddamnit, Tyler,” I hissed, punching his shoulder, which caused patrons in the restaurant to turn to look at us. “What in the hell is going on?”

“Sit down, Mrs. Cook,” the redhead nodded at the booth seat opposite her. “I can explain.”

“Can you?” I snapped, letting Tyler push me into the booth. “You’d better!”

“This is my mother,” Tyler told the redhead. “Leanne—”

“I know who she is.” The redhead slid closer to the wall, making room for Leanne, who slid in, looking wary.

“You do?” I looked from Tyler to the redhead to Leanne, confused. “Who in the hell are you?”

“Agent Wendy Fuller.” The redhead’s voice was low and she glanced around before reaching inside her jacket and flashing her identification. I saw Leanne’s face turn stark white. My stomach dropped to my toes.

“FBI?” I whispered.

“You were spot-on,” Tyler said with a chuckle, putting an arm around my shoulder. “That Silence of the Lambs thing. Funny.”

“I’m not laughing.” I sat back, stunned, then looked up at Tyler. “What is this about? What in the hell is going on? Is this about Jay? Oh God…”

“Jay?” Wendy asked.

“Jessica Finlay.” Tyler nodded at Wendy, and I felt him stiffen beside me. “Show her.”

“Show me what?”

But Wendy the FBI agent was already going into the briefcase beside her. I expected something—I don’t know what, papers or photographs or something—but she pulled out an iPad and typed on the screen.

“What about Jay?” I asked, feeling panicked. “This is about Jay? Is she okay? What—?”

“She’s with Arnie.” Leanne’s voice was soft, but she spoke the truth. Wendy turned the iPad toward me, and I saw pictures of Jay—going into Arnie’s office. Coming out of his office, his arm around her shoulder. “He took it over, didn’t he?”

“It? What?” I asked, but Wendy was already telling us.

The pictures were recent—taken just that morning.

Of course, that’s where Jay had gone. She’d had Arnie’s card, and he was the only other person in the whole city she knew, besides us. He’d offered to help her, hadn’t he? Said he could get her a modeling job…

“I have something to show you,” Leanne said, after Wendy had told us that they’d had Arnie under surveillance since they’d arrested Dante. They’d suspected he was involved, but they hadn’t been able to gather enough evidence to arrest him.

“He has Jay.” I grabbed Tyler’s arm and he squeezed me tighter. “Oh God, he has Jay…”

“He’s not stupid.” Wendy held her hand out as Leanne passed the old photograph across the table. “He wouldn’t groom someone so close to you. He thinks she’s your cousin—that’s what Tyler said. If he was offering her a modeling job, it would likely be something legitimate.”

“Unless he finds out she isn’t your cousin.,” Leanne said, watching Wendy’s face as she squinted at the photograph. Her words made me sick to my stomach.

“What is that?” Tyler asked, as Wendy handed the photograph of a younger, skinnier Arnie across the table so he could see it. “Is that… holy fuck.”

“You didn’t believe her, did you?” Leanne asked her son, seeing the shock on his face.

“I didn’t know what to believe.” Tyler stared at the picture in his hand. “FBI shows up and wants to talk to me, what am I supposed to say? I said I’d have lunch. So here we are.”

“Did you know he was involved?” Wendy asked, glancing over at Leanne.

“No. I didn’t know him back then.” Leanne shook her head. “And I didn’t have this picture until last week.”

“This could be very useful.” Wendy took the picture from Tyler, looking at it again. I could practically see the wheels turning.

I had barely recovered from the fact that she wasn’t Alisha McKenna—but I suddenly had the feeling that this woman was far more dangerous, and wielded much more power.

“Look, I told you,” Tyler said, talking to Wendy, but keeping his voice down. “I don’t care what you’re holding over my head. I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

“Holding over your head?” My eyes narrowed at the agent. “What are you holding over his head?”

“She threatened to leak the truth to the press,” Leanne said softly. “That’s it, isn’t it? That Tyler was the one who really pulled the trigger?”

“I don’t care.” Tyler shook his head. “Leak away.”

“Okay, listen.” Wendy sighed, putting the old photograph on the table. “This is proof, right here, that Arnold was involved, even back then.”

“Well…” Tyler hesitated, frowning at the picture. “I don’t know.”

“What more do you need?” the redheaded agent asked, her brow knitting with frustration. “I can understand having some loyalty—but doesn’t this show you that this man was clearly involved? He was involved then—and he’s involved now. These are children we’re talking about. Children like Jessica Finlay.”

Wendy touched the iPad she’d put on the table, waking the screen up, where Jay was being led out of Arnie’s office, his arm around her shoulder. I made a little noise in my throat when I saw it, looking up at Tyler.

“What does she want you to do?” I asked.

“Wear a wire.” Wendy zoomed in on the iPad screen, on Jay’s face. She looked both hopeful and scared. It broke my heart. “We need a confession.”

“He won’t tell me, anyway.” Tyler squeezed my shoulder, looking over at Wendy. “I get why you came to me—I’m the only one you’ve got leverage over. But I don’t think he’d say anything, even if I walked in there with this picture. Why would he?”

“Tyler’s right.” Leanne spoke up. “He could come up with a million reasons why he was there that day. Trouble is his meal ticket. He wouldn’t jeopardize that.”

“I can try,” Tyler offered, frowning. “If he really is… what you say he is. I can try. But I think I might do more harm than good.”

“You may be right.” Wendy tapped her finger on the old photograph thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler apologized.

“He’ll tell me.” Leanne’s words were so soft I almost didn’t hear her.

“Mom.” Tyler’s voice had a warning in it. “No.”

“Think about it.” She looked across the table at her son with her one good eye. Beside her, Wendy was listening very carefully. “If I take this picture to him—if I threaten him with exposure. If I tell him I know he’s involved, and I ask him for money—a little blackmail in exchange for my silence? That would be enough, wouldn’t it, to put him away?”

“No,” Tyler growled, his arm tightening around my shoulder. “I won’t allow it. It’s too dangerous.”

“It could work.” Wendy chewed on her lower lip, then she turned to Leanne. “You’d be willing to wear a wire?”

“Yes.” Tyler’s mother ignored his protest. “I’ll do it.”

“Let me make a call…” Wendy got out of the booth—Leanne moved so she could climb out—while Tyler went off on his mother.

“You are not doing this!” he snapped as Leanne slid back into the booth while Wendy walked away, already on her phone. “Do you hear me?”

“Tyler, stop.” Leanne picked up the photograph of Sarah, half-smiling at the camera, licking her ice cream, and her one good eye filled with tears. “I was a horrible mother. I know that. I was an addict, and I sacrificed everything for that addiction. Even my children.”

“Mom.” Tyler’s voice was hoarse. “Don’t.”

“It’s the least I can do.” She lifted her ravaged face to his, the unblemished, still-pretty side wet with tears. “Your uncle’s dead, and your father’s in jail, and yet it’s still happening. They’re still hurting kids.”

“Jay,” I said softly. The thought of her with Arnie—Arnie, who we trusted, who had always said he was looking out for us—made me sick.

“Yes, like Jay.” Leanne leaned in to take Tyler’s hand, which was balled into a fist on the table. “Tyler, I want to do this. I saw the way he looked at her. He’s dangerous. He’s very, very dangerous.”

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Tyler looked down at his mother’s hands, cupped over his fist. “He did this? He really did this?”

“He’s been doing it for years.” Leanne used one hand to swipe at the tears on her cheek. “I think that’s how he knew how to find you. He and Dante knew all along. They kept tabs on all three of you. They
used
you.”

“You guys were quite a meal ticket,” I whispered, the realization sinking in like a lead weight in my belly. “He created Trouble, Ty. Isn’t that what you told me? He put the band together…”

“I’ll kill him,” Tyler snarled, and I grabbed onto him to keep him from getting up and taking off.

“No!” I cried, and Leanne did too, at the same time.

“Let me do this,” Tyler’s mother pleaded. “He’ll tell me—and he’ll go to jail. Just like your father.”

“I’d rather kill him,” he spat, but he stayed in his seat as Wendy approached.

“It’s a go.” She stood beside the table, looking at the three of us. “If you’re still willing?”