Page 68 of Sasha’s Secret

“They’re Delta Force. I should bloody well hope they know what they’re doing.”

Sasha had been around enough service personnel to recognize friendly rivalry when she heard it, and saw it in Rocco’s wink and half-smile. “Is Scott okay with driving the Hummer?”

The half-smile became a fully-fledged grin. “He’s looking forward to it. Says he hasn’t driven anything that big since he left the army. He can handle it. Why? Were you going to volunteer?”

Sasha’s eyes narrowed. “You think I can’t, mister?”

Rocco raised his hands in an expression of surrender. “Not arguing that one, cara.”

A commotion near the main door interrupted their conversation. Scott and Brian were herding everyone out to their transport for the evening, and from the way they were now behaving, the party had started in earnest. Sasha and Rocco were about to join them when Sasha heard a low buzz. It wasn’t her cell, so it had to be Rocco’s. “I think that’s you.”

Rocco acknowledged her as he pulled his cell from his pocket. His expression, when the called ended, sent an arctic chill of alarm down her spine. “Who was it?”

“Nick. They’ve identified the source of the threats.” His voice was low and urgent. “She’s a cyber expert on the east coast—name’s Sandra Schofield Powell. She’s Frank Schofield’s daughter. She’s covered all their tracks really well, but everyone makes mistakes. They found an email—just one—but she sent it, and the content confirmed Frank and Brian are in on this. There was no direct link to what’s happening tonight, but from what else was said in this email, it’s almost certain they have something planned.”

So, they were right after all, but that didn’t help. “I swear… In all the time Frank’s been here, he’s never mentioned having a daughter, and Brian’s never said anything about a sister. Why? What’s their motive? The kind of threats they’ve made… Their viciousness points more to revenge than anything else, but if that’s true, revenge for what?”

“They don’t know the story behind it yet, but Charity and Tex are still working on it,” Rocco said. “There’s no point in worrying about that right now. We have to assume they have something planned for tonight. We’d better get moving, otherwise our diva’s going to be late.” He nodded in the direction of the main door, where Linzi was dancing her way to the Hummer with her boyfriend. “Not to mention we don’t want Brian to suspect we’re onto them.”

“Are we still going ahead as planned?”

“I think we have to. Dropping Brian again at this stage could still make them panic. I think it’s better to let them believe their plan’s still on track.” Rocco’s mouth settled into a grim line. “We need to draw them out and get this finished.”

“I agree.” She held out her hand. “Let’s go. We have a job to do.”

Chapter 15

As Rocco had anticipated, chaos reigned outside the venue—one of the many reasons he generally preferred working with VIPs rather than celebrities.

With VIPs, experience had taught him that the potential threats were more likely to come from business competitors, political adversaries, or individuals with an ax to grind, and tended to be more cold-blooded and pragmatic.

Celebrities, on the other hand, attracted devoted admirers whose fanatical adoration could transcend the norms of regular human emotion, to the point where it translated into a dangerous, possessive obsession. And the more popular a celebrity was, the greater the number of followers and the higher the risk that one of them would take their enthusiasm to the ultimate extreme.

Normally, Rocco would have ridden shotgun with Scott, but like the riddle about the farmer transporting a fox, a goose and a bag of beans across a river in a boat that could only hold the farmer and one item, there was no way he’d leave Brian alone with either their chauffeur or his charges.

Scott steered the black beast to the end of the line of similar vehicles waiting to deposit their passengers at the main entrance. So far, Rocco had been impressed by the security guard, especially by the authority he’d demonstrated when Brian—in spite of Rocco’s orders to the contrary—had objected to his being assigned as driver for the evening. Monroe had shut Schofield down with a handful of quiet but forceful and well-chosen words. Although Schofield had made no further protest, his demeanor had, however, become even more ill-tempered.

As the Hummer drew to a halt in line with the red carpet, Rocco exited the vehicle before it fully stopped and was at the door where Linzi would emerge to greet her fans, ready to open it. Even though he was convinced the threat to her safety was within her entourage, it didn’t mean the screaming crowds couldn’t harbor further unpredictable danger.

The noise was almost deafening, and combined with the constant flashing from paparazzi cameras and waving cell phones, provided plenty of cover for a potential attack. Rocco filtered out the light and noise, concentrating instead on the behavior of the crowds, and with quiet urgency, ushered Linzi and her boyfriend into the building as quickly as possible, walking a fine line between assuring her safety and not disappointing her fans.

Each time he carried out a visual sweep, he checked Sasha’s location, and each time, he caught a glimpse of the agent she’d once been. He might be biased, but in his opinion the CIA had lost one hell of an asset when she left. Brian was shepherding the remaining members of Linzi’s entourage behind them, while Scott drove off to park their transport—hopefully not too far away. Rocco had planned ahead as much as he could, but on the night, there was no guarantee all the pieces would fall into place exactly as he would prefer. Even the best-laid plans could be thrown out by the smallest of unexpected variables.

Conditions were little better once they entered the building—the lobby was teeming with the great and the good who’d been invited to attend. Not just a multitude of stars from the music world, but a whole host of other individuals who were in the public eye, and all of them were enjoying the hospitality offered by the servers with their laden silver salvers. Laughter and conversation added to the background music, but Rocco wasn’t interested in any of it. He was looking for one person in particular. His gaze roved over the crowd, finally alighting on a tall, tuxedo-clad male shouldering his way through the throng. His greeting was a silent chin-lift.

“You get the message from Nick?” Ghost asked without ceremony.

Rocco nodded. “Your team’s aware?”

“I briefed them as soon as Nick contacted me. Beatle and Truck reported in ten minutes ago—Schofield Senior hasn’t left the house all afternoon, but I have a feeling at some point that’s going to change. Hollywood’s checking out backstage.” Ghost’s keen gaze carried out another sweep of the area.

Rocco didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know the other man was as unhappy with their surroundings as he was. There were too many people—too much cover for the Schofields, too many prospective victims if everything went sideways. Rocco didn’t like it one bit.

A disturbance in the milling crowd drew their attention to one side. Instantly on high alert, both Rocco and Ghost moved closer to Linzi.

“Ms. Suto, it’s wonderful to see you. Welcome to the Diamond ACE Music Awards.”

The exuberantly enthusiastic greeting came from another walking tux, this one inhabited by the well-known TV chat show host who was the compère for the evening. Rocco tuned his incessant chatter out and returned to concentrating on their surroundings and more importantly, Brian Schofield. He was maintaining a position at the rear of the party, potentially putting himself in an ideal position to slip quietly away and carry out whatever he might have planned.