The memory of Gio reminded her that she’d not gotten far at all on her exposé. Suddenly it didn’t matter. What mattered was the safety of these women, of all the future Ms. Mustang Valley contestants. Anger flared and lit a flame she’d always carried but had never allowed to empower her like this before.
“Holden.” Her voice was loud, and not only did Holden turn to her but so did the entire pageant.
“Excuse me!” Selina had returned.
“Shut up, Selina.” She turned back to Holden and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Look, we have to make this happen on our terms, not the bad guy’s.”
Holden opened his mouth to probably tell her to be quiet and let him do the find-the-serial-killer bit, but she saw the opportunity for what it was. Bella leaned up and wrapped her hands around Holden’s nape, pulled him to her and kissed him with all her might.
He stiffened, and while he didn’t push her away he didn’t tug her in close, either, as he had before. Bella paid it no mind—she was after one thing.
To entice the killer.
The other pageant participants tittered, gasped and awwwwed until they all broke out into a loud round of applause. Only when she was certain no one involved in the event could have possibly missed the kiss did Bella pull back.
Holden’s eyes glittered with cold fury. He leaned in, though, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again.
“What the hell, Bella?” His voice low and lethal, he asked his question against her ear.
“The killer wants me. This is the surest way to draw him out.” She felt Holden’s breath hitch as she whispered back. “I’d rather have him come for me tonight than tomorrow during the actual pageant finale, with a few thousand civilians in the audience.”
“I don’t know how you got the impression that the stage is your personal rendezvous spot, but it’s not. Please do your job, Holden, and Bella, you’ve come too far to get disqualified now.”
She stepped back but Holden’s hand still had a grasp on her wrist. She turned and looked at him. “What?”
“Don’t forget what I’ve taught you.”
He released her and disappeared behind the stage, where she knew he’d be on alert, patrolling, waiting for the killer to make his move. As she walked to her spot to wait until her time to give her talent portion—the recitation of a poem written by a reporter two centuries ago—she wished she could hang with Holden in the dark. Just one more time before they parted ways and never saw one another again.
Chapter 23
Holden looked under the stage, and through the entire backstage, with zero evidence of a killer or anyone else. Becky moved through the routine of the pageant numbers like any other contestant, and she never once appeared to be doing anything but what everyone else did. She didn’t have a weapon on her—every contestant had been searched and put through the metal detector as part of the extraordinary security measures. Everyone, it seemed, was either on the stage, in the orchestra pit below stage front, or up in the lighting scaffolding. The pageant board members were all seated in the audience seats in rows one and two, save for Selina. She continued to cue each contestant to come forward to answer their questions and then perform their talent portion, just as they would on finale night.
Marcie began to sing the Broadway tune he’d heard at least twelve times during the previous practices, and he felt his insides tighten with adrenaline-fueled anxiety. He was always wound tight before an op went down, if he was aware of it. This time it was so much more than an op, or taking out a serial killer, no matter how hard he tried to believe it wasn’t.
This was all about Bella and saving her. Sure, he’d catch the killer in the process, and while it wouldn’t hurt his career progression to do so, it wasn’t what mattered to him most.
He wanted Bella at his side all the time, not just as the woman he was ordered to protect through the investigation and eventual apprehension of a
serial killer.
Holden watched Bella walk across the stage when it was her turn but didn’t allow himself the luxury of appreciating her beauty or grace, even in the cumbersome body armor. If the killer attacked before he had a chance to react, it would mean Bella’s life.
He cursed himself, wished he’d insisted she drop out of the Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant. It was beyond agony to know that at any moment she might be hurt, or worse.
The only thing keeping him sane was that the level of security imposed by Spencer and MVPD was the best it could be. He prayed it’d give him enough time to save Bella, if and when the killer struck.
When Bella finished the poem, which he hadn’t paid attention to, intent on observation, she walked offstage toward him, before turning to go to the staff room. He knew she was going to change for the last number, as were all the other contestants.
He scanned the light scaffolding and his heart stopped. Only one tech was atop the metal structure instead of the two who were always present throughout the entire pageant. A movement in his peripheral vision made him turn to the left. He immediately spotted a man dressed in jeans, black top, and most chilling, a mask. He recognized the clothing as that of one of the lighting techs, Ben. Ben stood with his hand on the main stage light switch. Holden hit the comms unit on his chest and alerted MVPD, already surrounding the building as a precaution.
Precaution had turned to deadly intent.
“Stop!” Weapon drawn, he ran toward Ben, perpendicular to his course, planning to cut him off before Ben got any farther. Before he reached Bella.
The stage went black and Holden was plunged into darkness.
A piercing scream split the air.