Into the Fury (BOSS, Inc. #1)(39)
The four-hour flight from the Sea-Tac Airport to Dallas/Fort Worth put them in Texas by midafternoon. Limousine buses shuttled the group to two different hotels: the models and higher-ups at the Ritz-Carlton, the rest of the group at the Warwick Melrose, not far away.
Though there was nothing planned for the balance of the day, the models at the Ritz were told not to leave the premises unless they were in a group and accompanied by security personnel. Dinner was catered for them in a banquet room at the luxurious hotel.
Early the following morning, while most of the La Belle security people stayed at the hotel to protect the models, Ethan and his crew, along with Beau Desmond and some of his men, were shuttled out to the theater where the production would be held, the Music Hall at Fair Park.
Though Ethan had been living among the dense foliage and tall evergreens of Seattle for the past few years, the flat, dry Texas landscape still felt like home. His Southern drawl had mostly disappeared, but he and Luke were Texas born and bred, along with a parcel of Brodie cousins scattered around the state. His connection to the land ran deep.
But he loved Seattle, had since he’d made the decision to leave the Dallas PD and join BOSS, Inc. The job Ian had offered him gave him the independence he had been craving. Now he couldn’t imagine ever living anywhere else. Still, it felt good to be back in Texas for a visit.
Ethan glanced up as the shuttle arrived in front of a Spanish-style building constructed in the twenties. A Moorish influence showed in the architectural design of the structure’s domes and arcades, and the theater was big—large enough to hold over three thousand people.
Which made it a very big headache for Ethan, his team, and the rest of the La Belle security crew.
Inside the theater, Ethan led Dirk, Sandy Sandowski, Walt Wizzy, Pete Hernandez, and Joe Posey into a small conference room.
“All right, you guys, listen up.” Ethan waited for his men to form a circle around him. “As all of you know, after what happened in Seattle, the game has changed in a very big way. We aren’t just keeping an eye out for guys who think they might get laid or just want to gawk at the women. We’ve got a murderer out there.”
He paused a moment for effect, heard the men’s muffled agreement, saw the grim expressions on their faces. “The guy who murdered Delilah Larsen is a single-minded killer with a bone-chilling agenda—he wants to take out another girl. The note he left at the murder scene makes that more than clear.”
“Yeah, and some chingadera leaked the info to the papers,” Pete Hernandez said darkly. “Which makes our job even harder.”
“That’s exactly right,” Ethan said. “There’s no way to know if our killer followed the tour to Texas. With any luck, he’s back in Seattle, the police hot on his tail. But we can’t know that for sure. Which means we have to be prepared. We have to be even more vigilant than we were at the last show.”
Joe scratched his close-cropped, tight black curls. “That won’t be easy. From the looks of it, this place is a real rabbit warren. Gonna be hell trying to keep things secure.”
“The good news is we’re in town two days early. During that time, we pick through every nook and cranny, find the places we’ll need to be checking the night of the show.” He motioned to a guard near the door, who walked over and handed him a set of floor plans.
Ethan unrolled the plans on top of the table and the men circled around it. “This gives us the basic layout.” As several hands moved to hold the map in place, Ethan dragged a yellow marking pen out of his pocket and set it down on top.
“The floor plan’s a copy I got from the manager. I want you guys to mark it up, highlight any spots that might be a hiding place, somewhere that isn’t obvious. At the end of each day, we look at the map, make sure all of the yellow spots have been thoroughly checked out and secured.”
“That makes sense.” Walt Wizzy bent his tall, bone-thin frame over the table and began poring over the map. “We need to memorize the layout as much as possible.”
“Walt’s right,” Ethan said. “This place has been remodeled a couple of different times. Walls have been moved or covered up with other walls. You guys take a good long look at the map, then I’ll assign each of you a section you’ll be responsible for.”
“Sounds good,” Sandy agreed.
“Dirk and I’ll move around freelance. The girls will be arriving for rehearsal in . . .” He checked his watch. “About two hours. We’ll meet back here in an hour and forty-five. We mark the map, then start providing security. After the rehearsal, we make another sweep. Same goes tomorrow. Any questions?”
No one made a comment.
“Good, let’s get to work.”
As the men headed out, Ethan walked up to Dirk. “Once the models are here, there’s an errand I’ve got to run. I need you to be on top of things till I get back.”
“No problem. What’s up?”
“I’ve got a friend in the Dallas PD. I want to bring him up to speed on the murder in Seattle, ask him to keep me informed of any arrests, word on the street, anything that connects to the fashion show. I want to know if the guy who killed Delilah Larsen followed us to Dallas.”
Dirk ran two fingers around his mustache down to his jaw. “I’ll keep an eye on the girls.”
Ethan nodded. They both knew which girls Dirk was talking about. “I know you will. Thanks.”