Page 12 of Corbin (Wild Wolf Pack from the world of Gallize Shifters #2)
Flashing that ID again at the theater entrance to someone in a hard hat, they passed inside. The burly door guard then shoved a hand in the faces of the media trying to follow them. Corbin wanted to thank the guy for stopping people with cameras, but he’d only draw attention he didn’t want.
Inside the old building, a moldy smell mingled with the scent of fresh paint.
Cobwebs had yet to be cleaned from windows that needed to be scraped more than washed.
Rows of wooden pews reminded him of a church by the way they were arranged with a wide row down the middle and shorter ones on each side.
Corbin stayed near Adrian who moved down the right wall before pausing halfway to the stage.
They could easily hear anyone inside with their shifter hearing, plus some people were shouting.
Speaking quietly to Corbin through the special comm unit they both wore, Adrian pointed out what he observed. “The guy lying on the floor has a Beckham Security patch on his jacket. Based on how hard the paramedics are working on him, he appears to be badly hurt, maybe with internal damage.”
Corbin noted the dark blue security jacket with a white lightning rod overlaying the word Beckham stitched in red on the sleeve.
The gurney from outside had been parked near the injured man and lowered closer to the floor.
Three men lifted the injured guard into place along with an IV line and an oxygen mask.
The paramedics wheeled the gurney out of the building, and sirens fired up shortly after.
“I’m not going to assume anything without facts, but this doesn’t look good,” Adrian murmured.
Corbin asked, “Do you mean for Givenchy?”
“Yes.”
Where was the queen? That thought had barely passed through Corbin’s mind when out from the left stage stepped a long-legged woman in three-inch heels. Those matched her dark green skirt suit, showing off striking strawberry-blond hair that took him back years.
He couldn’t drag his eyes from her. There she was after all these years. His chest ached. He couldn’t explain why his heart clenched with missing her after all she’d done to him long ago.
His heart had a damn short memory when it came to the misery he and Ares had suffered. His brain needed rewiring for him to still yearn for the young girl he’d fallen for after weeks of exchanging flirtatious glances.
One thing was for sure. That was no little girl anymore.
A smudge of dirt smeared Givenchy’s pink cheeks. Her shoulder-length hair had probably been styled before whatever happened to give her a disheveled look. Brushing at the sleeves of the jacket, she cocked her chin up and looked spitting mad.
His body tensed. Damn his soul. He hadn’t expected to feel anything except revulsion.
Apparently, his body had no conscience or loyalty to him.
She swatted at her shoulder-length hair, knocking dust free. She still wore long bangs brushed to the left across her forehead.
He’d forgotten how unusual that shade of hair could be. He’d never seen the equivalent on anyone else, as if Givenchy owned that color.
Police stepped over to her. “Ms. Givenchy, we’d like to get a statement from you.”
She kept her chin up but took her attitude down a notch to civilized anger. “What would you like to know?”
The policeman wrote notes as he questioned her. “How well do you know this man?”
With exasperation clear in her voice, she replied, “He was leading my security team who are tasked with my protection. Based on the issues they’ve had recently, including today, they should do a better job of watching out for each other. I ask very little of them.”
Another security guy in the same jacket stood to the side with his arms crossed and eyes glinting with anger. “We are doing our best with what we’re allowed to do.”
Ignoring him, she continued speaking to the officer. “To be honest, I’d terminate them for their own safety rather than wait to see who gets hurt next, but my tour contract requires Beckham’s security service.”
Pausing from taking notes, the cop asked, “Were you near the guard when he was injured?”
Corbin studied her reactions. Right now, she appeared annoyed that the questions had not ended yet.
“No.” Givenchy brushed at an imagined fleck of dirt on her jacket. “I was taking a call in my dressing room when I heard a crash. I ran out into the backstage to a disaster.”
“What interaction have you and the injured party had today?”
She hesitated, then said, “None. I had just arrived and had not spoken to any of the team today.”
The security guy standing next to his fallen teammate said, “Wait a minute. Archie followed you backstage to ask about details for the show schedule.”
She ripped off her sunglasses and glared at him. “Did you see the two of us talking? If so, please share what you heard being discussed to clear up this contradiction for the police.”
Fire flashed in her striking gaze. Those eyes were stormy as the Caribbean Sea in turmoil. Corbin had never seen her angry as a young girl. Back then, she’d been sweet, vulnerable, and innocent-looking.
Red flooded the guy’s angry face. “No, I didn’t see you talking to him, but—”
“But what?” she snapped. “This is serious. I want to know what happened as much as the police do. This isn’t the time to bring up anything except facts .”
The policeman saved him from digging a deeper hole. “Let’s all keep to the facts.” When the security guy backed down, the officer asked Eirene, “Did you have any personal history with the injured party?”
She pulled back, appalled. “What? No. He was one of my security team. Otherwise, I’d have no reason to even talk to him. You do know that I’m a wolf shifter, right?” she asked as if leading an ignorant witness on the stand.
“Yes, of course. I was only—”
“Then you should also know that the media would twist whatever I do to seem like I’m insulting the entire human race if I do or do not date a human.
I’m trying to build a favorable relationship with the human population, not start a war between humans and shifters.
I’m also putting on a charity event at my own cost on the day following each show on my tour.
” Her anger had diffused into her making a statement about life in today’s world as a shifter.
Adrian whispered to Corbin, “She makes a hell of a statement, but I doubt it sways the cops. They’re not overly impressed by her status or her words from what I can tell.”
“That’s how I’m seeing it too,” Corbin agreed. He had to be careful not to expose the conflict warring inside him. She sounded innocent and maybe even the victim in this, but she might simply be good at shuffling her words to appear genuine.
Pushing his hat up on his head, the officer nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Givenchy. That will be all for now. I may contact you again with additional questions.”
“What else would you need from me?” Her clipped tone indicated she hadn’t expected another round of questions.
Why not? Corbin found that odd. Anyone involved in what might not be an accident could be called in at any time.
“No way to tell right now,” he replied in as curt a tone as hers this time. “We’re starting to investigate. We have a lot of people to interview.”
“I understand.” She sounded torn between being forthcoming and unwilling to give an inch in this verbal tug-of-war. “I don’t mean to rush, but I must leave soon for an appointment with my trustee, Leszek Moore.”
The officer didn’t react noticeably, but he did take a step back.
Adrian murmured, “Oh man, her trustee carries a lot of clout. Word is many shifters fear drawing his attention. Early this year, a wolf shifter was caught stalking Givenchy. When Leszek found out, he contacted SCIS and supposedly requested that they talk to the wolf shifter. We didn’t get involved, but we have eyes and ears everywhere.
It’s believed SCIS jackal shifter enforcers captured him.
That wolf shifter was never seen again, and SCIS claims their enforcers only had a talk with him. ”
Oh, sure. Corbin shivered at that thought. No one should stalk a woman or any person, but from what he knew, jackal enforcers had too much autonomy.
Glancing around where three other officers were talking to workers and searching the area, the policeman who’d been asking Givenchy questions told her, “We’ll be here for a while today. One of our detectives is on his way here now.”
“That’s fine,” she said politely. “Take your time. I only came by to confirm that we were on schedule for the show three days from now. Will that allow you and your men enough time?”
“Yes, ma’am, if nothing unexpected turns up.”
After her stoic performance, she flinched at being called ma’am.
Corbin stifled a chuckle. No matter how successful or powerful some women became, the young ones still did not want to be addressed like their mothers.
She added, “I look forward to finding out how that metal walkway in the crossover fell.”
“Crossover?”
“The area behind the backstage where technicians and others move from side to side without being seen during a performance.”
“Got it.” More note writing.
The air conditioning rumbled to life, blowing toward Corbin.
With one deep inhale, he was back in high school, staring at the girl who he’d thought was special. Someone who would want to be his friend. Maybe more one day.
After the air swirled through the building for a few seconds, Givenchy stilled and slowly turned her head in Corbin’s direction.
He dropped his chin and peeked over the top of his sunglasses. She took a step in his direction where she could descend a short set of steps off the stage and walk through the seating area.
His heart thundered. Would she come down here to question them and recognize him? He hadn’t counted on being exposed to her.
Hadn’t he wanted to confront her? Yes, no, maybe. Hell, his head needed an overhaul.
Adrian never moved but asked, “You good?”
Damn. Corbin sucked up his courage as Givenchy turned around and headed back the way she’d come from the left.
He’d been foolish to think she could smell him from back here or even recognize his scent after all this time. The air conditioning vents had blown toward him, not from him to her.
Trying to sound casual, Corbin confirmed, “I’m good. I’m absorbing everything and the client.” He would not screw up this chance to prove himself worthy of being chosen twice to work with Adrian.
With Givenchy leaving the stage, Corbin let out a long breath, ready to help Adrian.
The security guy she’d argued with called out, “Don’t leave yet, Ms. Givenchy.”