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Gabe wanted to draw her away.
“Check your phone, PJ,” Gabe said, wondering if her blackmailer had something to do with this.
PJ was pale as she drew it out of her pocket. “I turned it off,” she said. Her hands shook as she held the top button down and the phone booted to life, chiming seconds later to indicate a text was waiting.
Gabe watched as her face crumpled, and he caught her in his arms when she likely would have fallen to the floor. He scooped her up and brought her to the couch. Samantha hovered in the background—always more comfortable with computers than people—but Chad came and sat near them.
Gabe took the phone from PJ and read the text before passing it to Chad. Chad slipped away to where Sam sat with her computer and the two of them bent their heads over the screen murmuring quietly as they worked. The words of the most recent text echoed in his head.
Jimmy paid. Are you ready to pay, Pretty Pru?
No way in hell he would let PJ go back out on tour now. At least, not without going with her.
Gabe pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and sent a quick text to his assistant so he could arrange coverage for all his meetings, and move dates of anything that couldn’t be covered by someone else.
He cleared two weeks and he’d clear more if he needed to.
His next text was to Jesse’s fiancé, Zach Harris, who owned a private security company. When he’d met PJ at Jack’s party, he hadn’t batted an eye when PJ was introduced. Zach and his company were very used to handling high-profile clientele and doing so discretely and effectively.
Do you have any of your people available for personal security for PJ for the foreseeable future? She’s been getting threats. I’ll be with her, but I’d like additional security if you have anyone. I don’t trust her security staff. They really aren’t even off the suspect list themselves yet, so I need backup for her.
The response came back almost instantly.
I can send two of my people tomorrow morning. I can come over myself if you need someone before then.
Gabe texted back.Tomorrow’s fine. I really don’t think anyone knows where she is right now. Thanks.
He brushed her temple with his mouth. “You okay, Pru?” he asked, and she nodded before looking up at him.
“I guess I haven’t been taking this seriously enough. Do you…?” She swallowed and licked her lips before she continued. “Do you really think he killed Jimmy?”
Gabe could see her blinking her eyes and knew she was close to crying. She was shaken more than she wanted to admit. That was Pru—always trying to be tough, not letting people see what she was really feeling or how hard things really were.
He’d seen her do the same thing on tour. She had this crazy hard work ethic, and truly believed she’d been given a gift in her stardom. She believed she owed her fans for the opportunity they’d given her…the life they’d given her. And, he knew, she’d work forever to try to pay them back for that.
Now that he knew what had really happened thirteen years ago, he had a feeling she felt the same way about her parents. As if they’d given her a second shot at a career she’d almost thrown away with her alcohol abuse.
Her parents had helped give her child a chance at a life that was more than she would have been able to give the baby as a fifteen-year-old. Gabe looked her in the eye, knowing her tough-girl act was held together by a very thin strand at the moment.
“There’s a possibility Jimmy just got drunk and stupid and crashed his car on his own. It’s not like the man isn’t known to drink. But—whether this guy’s just taking credit for an accident or really had something to do with it—I don’t want to take any chances. I cleared my schedule for a while so I can go with you for your next few tour stops, and I’ve got Zach sending extra security over tomorrow.”
Chad approached and sat on the sofa across from them.
“What have you got, Chad?” Gabe asked.
“The blackmailer is using burn phones to send his texts. So far, he’s used three different phones. With some carriers, we can get more than just the number. With other carriers, information like texts and calls is never recorded. So, if the person paid in cash for the phone, and paid cash for a phone card to charge up the phone, there’s no way to trace it. That’s what we’ve got here. Your guy knows how to stay anonymous.”
“There’s nothing you can do to trace it? Even if we’re monitoring her phone when a text comes in?” Gabe asked.
Chad shook his head, his mouth set in a tight line. “Sorry. There’s no way to trace it. Even if we got the police involved, they wouldn’t be able to get the information either. It simply isn’t there to get, and I think your guy knows that.”
Chad turned to PJ, who sat tense and anxious next to Gabe. “Based on what Gabe’s told me, it’s safe for us to assume this was someone close to you, correct?”
Gabe could feel the intake of breath as PJ seemed to brace herself for the conversation. He couldn’t blame her. The idea that this was someone close to her killed him. It had to be tearing her apart inside, too.
“Right,” she said, quietly. “No one knows I keep that journal. I’m careful only to get it out when I’m alone in my room, and I put it back each time I finish. I never write in it around anyone; even my parents didn’t know it was there.”
Chad’s face creased in thought.
