Identity Crisis(83)

Kendra’s iPhone buzzed a text, and she pulled it out of her bag. ‘It’s Harris,’ she said. ‘Looks like our little performance dispersed the angry mob, but the reporters haven’t budged.’ She nodded to herself. ‘They still think Tess’s life is under threat, no doubt.’

‘Reporters aren’t stupid,’ Dee said. She raised a hand before Kendra could speak. ‘I don’t give a damn what you think, Ken, what K. Ryde thinks. To me those emails constitute a threat. And even if they are nothing more than some neurotic fan, I know how you respond to those emails no matter. And that’s not something I can let pass, you know that.’

Garrett bundled Kendra close to him and smiled at Dee. He wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of either of Kendra’s friends. He was pretty sure it would be fatal. At the moment, he still wasn’t sure Harris wouldn’t happily yank his heart from his chest and make him eat it if he got half a chance. But all of that fierce loyalty, all of that deep love was for Kendra, just because she was Kendra, just because she was amazing and they knew her better than anyone. That made him feel better somehow, lest he forget it was his fault she was in this mess to begin with. And he really wasn’t likely to forget that, was he?

There wasn’t much traffic late on Sunday afternoon in Portland, so the drive to the Pneuma Building didn’t take long. Kendra wasn’t sure why Ellis and Dee – and Garrett too, for that matter, were so keen on her seeing Wade Crittenden, like he was some god or something. OK, she knew the man was a genius, and she owed him big time for unleashing evil Kendra on Garrett in his office several weeks ago. Though it hadn’t seemed to bother him too terribly much, as she recalled. She admired that about him from the start.

They parked in the underground garage, away from prying eyes, and took the elevator down to Wade’s dungeon. Kendra had laughed when she’d first heard the man’s nerd king laboratory referred to as such. Harris had elbowed her into silence, and it was clear that Wade was completely oblivious to the double meaning. Either that or he just didn’t care. With Wade it was never easy to tell. And in truth, she had only seen the lounge of Wade’s domain. Who knew, maybe he did dabble in BDSM somewhere down in the bowels of the Pneuma Building. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

They found the man in the inner sanctum, also known as his boudoir. God, surely the man couldn’t miss out on all of the double entendres, even in his insulated little world. He was hunched over the keyboard of a computer with a very large monitor.

‘I’ve got Flannery and his men on it, but I think the stalker’s a journalist,’ Wade said, without looking up from what he was doing, without offering a greeting.

‘Flannery?’ Kendra said. ‘Any relation to the Carla Flannery who’s been grilling us over at Garrett’s place?’

‘He’s her father,’ Wade replied, still tapping away on the keyboard. ‘Ex-military, and a kick-ass detective and security man. He’s worked for Pneuma for years. I’ve heard his daughter is a real pit bull. Ellis certainly has a lot of respect for her.’

‘So why do you think that Razor Sharp is a journalist?’ Garrett asked.

‘Because of the timing,’ Wade said, shoving the sleeve of his sweatshirt up to reveal a well-muscled forearm that surprised Kendra. She wondered if he actually worked out, perhaps in the dungeon she’d imagined, the one with whips and cuffs. She could picture him wielding a whip across the bared bottom of an adoring groupie, or a willing secretary. And frankly, it wasn’t that hard to picture. Kendra knew that still waters often ran very deep and very kinky. Every time she’d seen Wade Crittenden, he’d been swaddled in sweatshirts and hoodies. Even at Harris’s party he wore a shapeless hoodie. But if that bulging forearm were any indication, she figured the man wouldn’t look half bad in leather or tight jeans.

She forced herself away from the welcome distraction of speculating about Wade Crittenden’s secret life and back to what the man was actually saying. ‘If you look at the dates of the last few emails, including the first one you received after Tess Delaney made her first public appearance, they all happened very soon after situations involving the press.’ He scrolled up to the first one. ‘Look at the time.’ He said. ‘You didn’t see this email until the next day, is that right?’ He glanced up at Garrett.

‘That’s right,’ Garrett said.

‘Granted, the Golden Kiss Awards were on television live, but even with your early departure you wouldn’t have been home when this email was written. It was written while the event was still going on. Could have been a fan who was very angry at your absconding with his idol before he could fully indulge in the experience.