A Harmless Little Ruse (Harmless #2)(15)

Euphoric cacophony erupts.

And then she turns around and walks into the waiting arms of her father.

That was as close as Lindsay could get to giving Stellan, Blaine and John the middle finger in public.

“Track down the source of Lindsay’s flowers and the red, blue and purple bunch of balloons in the crowd,” I snap to Gentian.

“Yes, sir. Need lockdown?”

“No. Damn it, we can’t risk the PR mess. Just get a fast handle on who was where. Review video. Front of stage, center, first row area is where I saw the balloons. Same area where Lindsay threw her bouquet.”

I skate through the thick crowds behind stage, knowing I have to get back to Lindsay, wondering what I’ll find.

“Drew?” It’s Paulson.

“What?”

“Balloons held by a stoner. Said ‘some dude’ handed him a fifty to walk in and release the balloons.”

“It’s always ‘some dude,’” I mutter.

“Wish I had better news.”

“Cameras outside where the stoner met the culprit?”

“Probably not. Said it was two blocks away.”

“Check anyway.”

“Got it.”

A wall of wavy blonde hair attached to the same dress Lindsay wore catches my eye. Monica is on the other side of her, eyebrows turned down, face otherwise hard as stone.

And just as expressive.

“What are you talking about, Lindsay? Colors?”

That’s all I need to hear.

“Monica, the attackers are harassing Lindsay again. First cutting the brake line, then a series of harassing texts, and today they upped the ante.” I whisper this into her ear, breathing in the heady scent of her spicy perfume, like cinnamon mixed with copper.

She jolts, then tenses. “No press leak?”

“None. We’re careful.”

Her shoulders relax. “Good. Maybe Harry didn’t make a mistake hiring you, after all.”

She walks away.

Lindsay’s been watching our conversation with keen eyes. “I’m fine, Mom,” she says in a falsetto voice. “Thanks for asking. No, no, don’t shower me with so much concern.”

It’s a tough day for everyone. I start to say that, then stop myself.

Because it’s hardest of all on Lindsay.

“Paulson’s working on locating the people who provided the flowers and balloons,” I say as we walk rapidly to the back doors where the SUV’s waiting for us. I see Gentian with Monica, escorting her out to meet up with Harry for post-announcement press junkets.

We’ve been ordered to take Lindsay back to The Grove. She’s not allowed to be interviewed.

Strict orders.

“Tonight was a success!” Lindsay says in a fake, breathy voice. “From the senator’s perspective, the moment was a triumph. Lindsay didn’t spew green soup, a sniper didn’t pick off Harry, and Monica was having a perfect hair day.”

“Lindsay.”

“I wish I could drink myself into oblivion.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because everything I’m trying to escape will still be here in the morning.”

“Does that include me?”

She says nothing.

I regret the question instantly.

“Sir?” Gentian speaks into my earpiece. “Texts confirmed from a new phone purchased with Lindsay’s credit card.”

Damn it. “Same store?”

“No.”

“Research any similarities between this purchase and the last one. We need to figure this out.”

“Yes, sir.”

A familiar dread tickles the back of my neck, dragging along my spine.

Inside job?

Is someone on Senator Bosworth’s staff – or God help me, my own – doing this to Lindsay?

“Can you think of anyone on the household staff or your father’s staff who would set you up like this?”

“Aside from you?”

“Not funny.”

“Not kidding.”

“You seriously think that I’m making it look like you cut your own brake line, bought the phones that are sending you threatening texts, and paid off some guy in the crowd to bring in colored balloons that matched your flower bouquet, all while being in charge of your private security?”

“It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

“Jesus, Lindsay!” My pulse skyrockets. “If you really think any of that is within the realm of possibility, you need to talk to your father and mother. Have me taken off the case. I’ll quit right now. You never have to see me again.” It hurts to say that.

She jolts.

“Good riddance. Because I can’t work with someone who suspects me of that level of mindf*cking sabotage.” I can’t be in love with one, either.

She just shrugs.

“Gentian!” I snap into my mouthpiece. “You and Paulson are in charge. I’m out.”

Fury turns my vision a cold white as I find the nearest Exit sign. Paulson appears to my right as Lindsay opens her mouth to say something.

I storm away, crashing through the metal double doors into the blinding sun, unable to think or feel. The world inside is nothing but fuzz. Outside, everything lives in stark, crisp clarity. Sound and touch and taste and wind and car exhaust and everything blends.