Page 35

Ethan

I pulled my SUV into Nova’s estate, hands still unsteady on the wheel. The moment in that abandoned warehouse kept replaying in my head—the medical examiner pulling back the sheet, my stomach clenched in terror… followed by that rush of relief when I saw it wasn’t Mel.

The massive front door swung open before I reached it, revealing Ty’s anxious face.

“There you are. Jace is having a damn hissy fit, saying he needs to talk to you.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “What’s happening?”

“Not sure, but he’s been bouncing off the walls for the last twenty minutes. Says he’s found something big.”

My pulse kicked up as I followed Ty through the marble foyer toward our makeshift command center. Nova’s usually bustling mansion had fallen eerily quiet since Mel’s disappearance, the dancers and assistants speaking in hushed tones, if at all. Even Nova had abandoned her diva role, appearing only occasionally with red-rimmed eyes and uncombed hair.

Jace looked up the moment I entered the security room, his normally calm demeanor replaced by barely contained excitement. Logan sat beside him, studying streams of data on multiple screens.

“About damn time,” Jace said, pushing back from his workstation. “You have to see this.”

I dropped into the chair across from him. “What’ve you got?”

Jace’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “I’ve been digging through Mel’s phone data, looking for anything unusual.”

“And?”

“I hit a fucking gold mine.” He spun his monitor toward me. “I found tons of previous missed calls and texts from some guy named Tommy Fitzsimmons. Apparently, Mel went on a date with him a few months ago.”

Why did that name sound familiar? I leaned forward, scanning the messages filling the screen. “Just one date?”

“Two, actually. But that’s not the interesting part.” Jace scrolled down, revealing dozens more messages, all from the same number. “After those dates, Tommy obviously wanted to keep in contact, but Mel didn’t feel the same. Mel responded to the first couple of texts, then basically ignored him.”

I read through the one-sided conversations spanning months—casual at first, then increasingly personal, as if Tommy and Mel had some ongoing relationship despite her silence.

“That’s not normal,” Logan observed.

“Exactly,” Jace agreed. “But it gets better. Remember those spam coupon texts Mel complained about? I found tons of them on her phone, all for local shops. When I looked into it, they were all generated from an app that creates fake numbers.”

My tired brain began connecting dots. “This Tommy guy is connected? ”

“Yeppers. I did some brute force hacking and found they all linked to an app registered to Tommy Fucking Fitzsimmons.”

Shit. The implication slammed into me. “He was creating fake coupons to lure her out to somewhere he wanted her.”

“Bingo.” Jace pointed to the last received message on Mel’s phone. “The last text was a coupon for coffee from the exact coffee shop she went to. The fact that the barista remembered her trying to use it was what had me looking into it to begin with.”

The exhaustion fogging my brain burned away, replaced by laser-sharp focus. “Who is this guy? What do we know about him?”

“Not much yet.” Jace pulled up a driver’s license photo. “Tommy Fitzsimmons, age thirty-two.”

I stared at the image—average build, sandy hair, utterly forgettable face. The kind of man who could blend into any crowd.

Then recognition hit me like a physical blow.

Fuck. “I’ve met this guy,” I said, straightening in my chair. “In New Orleans. The night of the club fire.”

“You sure?” Logan asked, studying the photo more carefully.

“Positive. He was talking to Mel outside after the evacuation, right before I found her. She introduced me to him.” The memory crystallized—Mel standing in the crowd, this man beside her, their conversation interrupted when I approached.

“Wait,” I said, realization dawning. “It’s possible that Tommy was responsible for that fire alarm. If I hadn’t gone back for Mel, she would’ve been alone with him.”

“This is starting to fall into place,” Logan said, his expression grim.

I kept staring at Tommy’s face, another connection forming. “Pull up Clark Arici’s personnel file.”

Jace gave me a questioning look but complied, bringing up the dancer’s photo. The resemblance wasn’t identical, but the similarities were definitely there—same build, similar coloring, comparable features.

“Holy shit,” Logan muttered. “Could this Tommy guy be the stalker?”

“If so, that’s why he targeted Clark,” I said. “He could pass for him with the right mask and costume.”

I turned to Jace. “Let’s look at the text messages Tommy sent Mel over the past few months and compare them to the stalker incidents.”

Jace pulled up everything—the flowers, the Barbie dolls, the roadkill with Nova’s rainbow wig. All three incidents with their threatening messages.

“All of these were very specifically targeting Nova quitting her tour,” I noted, scanning the threats.

“And look at Tommy’s messages to Mel,” Jace said, highlighting several texts. “Similar themes—that Mel was giving too much of her life to Nova, that if Nova loved Mel, she wouldn’t ask Mel to go on tour or would not tour at all.”

I read through the messages, a disturbing pattern emerging:

“Nova’s using you. Can’t you see that?”

“You deserve a life of your own, not living in her shadow.”

“If she cared about you, she wouldn’t drag you along on this tour.”

“One day you’ll see I’m the only one who really understands what you need.”

Each message revealed an obsession masked as concern, a possessiveness disguised as care.

As I studied the images of the stalker incidents again, something struck me that we’d completely missed before.

“Look,” I said, moving closer to the display Jace had up on the big screen. “All three of Nova’s stalker incidents contain two separate messages.”

Logan crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Yeah. Dude is creepy as fuck.”

“We’d all thought both messages were geared to Nova and were just an extra way of being dramatic.” I pointed to the first image. “But looking at them through the Tommy filter…maybe they weren’t both meant for Nova.”

“What do you mean?” Ty asked.

“The dead roses with the End your career so someone doesn’t have to end it for you was clearly for Nova.”

Ty’s eyes got big. “But the Don’t worry, there’s nowhere you can go that I can’t reach you note was for Mel?”

Logan nodded. “Makes sense since that was a live red rose, rather than the dead ones for Nova.”

Silence fell as the implications sank in.

“Pull up the Barbie dolls,” I instructed Jace, who quickly complied.

The images appeared on-screen—one doll mutilated with a knife through its head, fake blood splattered across its frozen smile.

“ I’m not toying with you. Cancel the tour. Definitely for Nova,” I said, the pieces aligning with terrible clarity. “But the other pristine doll was for Mel. I’m never far .”

“Holy shit. Same with the roadkill,” Logan said, catching on. “Dead animal for Nova, teddy bear for Mel.”

I finished, cold dread settling in my stomach. “Tommy has been obsessed with Mel for months. The stuff geared at Nova was just to get her out of the way.”

“Most of it, Nova never saw,” Logan added. “Because Mel was shielding Nova from the stalker threats.”

The irony landed like a punch—Mel had been protecting Nova from threats, never understanding the danger was actually to herself .

I ran a hand over my face, fighting against the exhaustion and rage threatening to overwhelm me. “Timeline. What do we know?”

Jace pulled up a calendar. “Tommy met Mel approximately six months ago. They went on two dates, then she stopped responding to his texts about two weeks later after explaining multiple times that she wasn’t interested and too busy helping with Nova.”

“When did the stalker incidents start?”

“Nova started getting messages about five months ago. There were a couple of packages delivered to the house that might have been from Tommy in the weeks after that. Then the dead flowers incident was about six weeks ago. That brought us in.”

“And when did Tommy start sending the fake coupons?”

Jace checked the data. “First one appeared about three months ago. They increased in frequency over time.”

“He’s been escalating,” I said, the pattern clear now. “Getting more desperate for Mel’s attention.”

“But why target Nova?” Ty asked. “If he wanted Mel, why not go after her directly?”

“Because Nova is what’s keeping Mel tied down,” Logan answered before I could. “From Tommy’s perspective, if Nova’s tour ends, Mel would be free. Available.”

“It’s more than that,” I said, pieces clicking into place. “I talked with Mel about her future the day before she disappeared. She was planning to tell Nova she wanted to quit after this tour. Start her own life.”

“Did she mention that to Tommy?” Jace asked.

“I don’t know. But if she did—even casually during one of their dates—and he’s been fixated on her all this time…”

“He might have taken it as encouragement,” Logan finished. “A sign that his plan was working. ”

Jace’s fingers continued flying across the keyboard as we talked, his expression growing grimmer by the second.

“I’m finding more about this guy,” he said, eyes never leaving his screen. “And it’s not good. His family is from Louisiana—old money, very wealthy. Parents died in a car accident two years ago.”

“Anything suspicious about the accident?” I asked.

Jace nodded. “Police report indicates potential tampering with the brakes, but no charges were ever filed. Tommy inherited everything—we’re talking tens of millions.”

“Where does he live?” Logan asked.

“Everywhere, apparently.” Jace pulled up property records. “Large estate outside Baton Rouge, mountain house in Vail, apartment in NYC. He’s got multiple vehicles registered in his name, a custom Airstream trailer, and—” he paused, looking at me significantly “—a boat docked in a marina near New Orleans.”

New Orleans. Where I’d seen him with Mel. The pieces were aligning with sickening clarity.

“That’s a lot of places he could have taken her,” Ty said, voicing what we were all thinking.

“There’s more,” Jace continued, a note of disgust entering his voice. “Two different restraining orders from ex-romantic partners. Charges were filed but mysteriously disappeared. Looks like family money or connections got him out of legal trouble.”

“Pattern of behavior?” Logan asked.

“Yeah. Both women claimed he became violent when they tried to end the relationship.” Jace looked up at me, his expression grim. “Seems like Tommy doesn’t handle rejection well.”

The implication hung in the air. Mel had rejected Tommy, multiple times. And now she was in his hands.

I paced the small room, energy surging through my exhausted body. “We need everything on this guy. Home address, workplace, credit card transactions, phone records. I want to know where he eats breakfast and what brand of toothpaste he uses.”

“Already on it,” Jace said. “Running his information through every database I can access.”

“And notify all law enforcement agencies,” I added. “Send them Tommy’s photo and information. Every cop in Texas needs to be looking for this guy.”

“What about Nova?” Ty asked. “Should we tell her?”

I considered the question. Nova had been devastated by Mel’s disappearance, retreating into herself in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible for someone so naturally dramatic.

“Yes,” I decided. “She deserves to know. And she might remember something about Tommy that could help us find Mel.”

As the team mobilized around me, I found myself staring at Tommy’s unremarkable face on the screen. How many times had he been right in front of us without our noticing? How many opportunities had we missed to stop this before it reached this point?

“Jace,” I said suddenly, “I’ll bet he’s been around us the whole time and we haven’t even noticed. Look for him at or around shows.”

I nodded, turning back to the evidence board where Mel’s photo hung at the center, surrounded by timelines and connections. It had been nearly forty hours since she’d disappeared. Forty hours in the hands of a man whose obsession had driven him to elaborate schemes, threats, and now kidnapping.

But we had a name now. A face. A target for the fear and rage that had been consuming me since the moment I realized she was gone.

“We’re going to find you,” I promised her silent image. “Just hold on.”

Behind me, the team continued working, the quiet intensity of their focus the only sound in the room. Outside, darkness was falling across Nova’s estate. Another night without Mel. Another night of not knowing where she was or what was happening to her.

But this night was different. Tonight, we had a lead.

And I wouldn’t stop until I followed it to Mel.