“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Sorry. No wonder you want to find this guy. You’re the one suffering the brunt of his anger.”
Derek glared at him. “You noticed that, did you?”
? ? ?
“It’s been six months since he last saw Gerald,” I whispered on our way back to the dressing room. “And it’s been six months since his stalker started dropping dead animals on his front porch. Coincidence? I think not.”
“But nobody’s seen Gerald around here,” Derek reasoned. His features were a study in frustration, but I could see the gleam in his eyes, which told me his always razor-sharp mind was working through dozens of scenarios.
“True.” I glanced up at him. “I still think it’s a woman. Have you seen the way Angie looks at him sometimes?”
“You’ve brought her name up before,” Derek murmured. “I thought she was your mate.”
“I like her a lot. But you and I both know I haven’t always been the best judge of character.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “You’re getting better.”
“Aw, thanks.”
We both chuckled as I unlocked the door.
“So, now what?” I wondered aloud.
“We can ask the crew if anyone has seen Gerald around. But I’d rather not open it up for general discussion. George has been chatting with some of the crew members, so I’ll have him broach the subject in a subtle fashion.”
“Maybe he comes in disguised as a guest and brings a new antique with him each time.”
“It’s possible,” Derek said. “But I doubt he’d waste time sitting around all day in the guest hall. He’s already tried to kill Randy twice. He’s deadly serious. Look at the time he put into changing out the dressing room lock.”
I thought about it. “Maybe he’s working for the caterer. He could get into the studio several times a day if he brought boxes of doughnuts and fresh coffee.”
“Possibly.”
“I’m still dealing with the fact that in all this time, Randy has never considered Gerald a threat.”
“He doesn’t honestly grasp that he’s in danger.”
“Because he isn’t. I am.”
“True,” Derek said, scowling. “It was you who confronted the snake. And you who got trapped under the stage flats.”
“The only close call he’s suffered was the peanuts.”
“And he’s had allergic reactions before, so, if you’ll recall, he didn’t even connect that event to his stalker.”
“And Tish’s attack?” I asked.
“Tom believed it was the stalker, but we know it wasn’t. Randy never said much about it.”
“Maybe because it happened outside the studio. That’s not his realm.”
There was a brisk knock at the door. “Ten minutes, Brooklyn!”
“Thanks, Angie,” I yelled back.
Derek opened his briefcase. “While you’re out onstage, I’m going to text my people to meet me here for a briefing. I want them to be on the lookout for someone matching Gerald’s description.”
“Sounds good.”
As I was closing the door, I heard him mutter, “We just have to figure out what that description is.”
Chapter Sixteen
Early Saturday morning, Alex stopped by my place to pick me up for her Krav Maga class. Derek offered her a cup of coffee and the two of them began to discuss the short drive to her Hayes Valley gym as if they were conducting a Black Ops incursion into a hostile foreign land.
Alex poured a dollop of cream into her coffee and took a sip. “I’ll work with her from oh-eight-hundred to oh-nine-twenty. That’s when you’ll arrive, correct?”
“Oh-eight-hundred?” I said. “You mean, eight o’clock?”
“Roger that,” Derek said, ignoring me. “I won’t park and take the chance of being blocked in. At oh-nine-twenty you’ll see me pull directly in front of the doorway. I’ll keep the motor running.”
“Not for long,” Alex assured him. “We’ll walk out at precisely oh-nine-twenty.”
“I’ll leave the motor running regardless.”
“Ten-four, Tango Bravo,” I muttered. I’d heard the guys on NCIS say something like that once or twice.
Derek paid no attention, just gave Alex a brief nod.
“You realize we’re just going to a mini mall,” I said.
Relaxed at the dining table with his coffee and a scone, Derek continued to tap out messages on his smartphone. No doubt he was plotting the takeover of a minor planet.
“Great coffee—thanks.” Alex set her cup in the sink and smiled at me. “All ready to go?”
I looked at the two of them. “You people are sick.”
“Is that a yes?”
Derek smirked. I grabbed his shirtfront and kissed him hard on the lips. He smacked my butt. “Have fun.”
“I’ll try to survive.”
We drove to a small gym in the Hayes Valley neighborhood where Alex taught her Krav Maga and kickboxing classes. Walking into the large space, I saw a row of punching bags hanging from the ceiling. Mirrors lined the opposite wall. The entire floor space was covered by one-inch-thick gray matting.