Things Lost In The Fire (42 page)

Once again, he realized. For the second time in her life, she bore the marks of a madman. That thought alone was enough to have him thirsting for retribution.

“Mr. Odell?” A gangly rookie cop with sandy blond hair crouched down in front of him, notepad in hand.

Brody grimaced. “Can I go yet?”

“Almost. Miss McRae claims a man wearing a black mask attacked her. Did you see anyone backstage fitting that description?”

“No. By the time I got there he’d left,” Brody explained, eyes hardening as he stared pointedly at the cop. “Look, I think I know who did this. A guy named Drew. I don’t know his last name, but he’s been shacking up with Valerie Ryan so you’ll probably find him there.”

Surprise flashed over the cop’s face as he jotted the information down. “How do you know it was him?”

“I have a hunch he’s the one who’s been following Sadie, so it’s a good place to start.” Brody climbed to his feet, peering over the police cars at the ambulance. He saw the doors open and one of the paramedics help Sadie out onto the street. “I gotta go.”

Ignoring the cop’s cry of protest, he raced around the patrol cars and straight for the ambulance. When Sadie turned and saw him, relief chased away the anxiety on her face.

He said nothing as he scooped her into his arms and held her close, breathing in the familiar scent of her and letting it soothe him. Cameras flashed as the press swarmed in as close as the police would allow, but he couldn’t care less. Let them get their photo op. Sadie needed him.

She was still shaking, but when he looked into her eyes he was relieved to see they were dry and focused. His gaze went to the side of her neck, where light bruises were beginning to form. He could only shake his head, the relief he felt squashed by rage. “That asshole better hope the cops find him before I do.”

Sadie bit down on her lip, distressed by his anger. “I told them about Drew. I left my mom out of it, though. I don’t think she had anything to do with this.”

He sighed. “No, I have a feeling he went rogue on this one.”

“Can we go home?” she asked, forehead creased as she glanced around at the press and curious onlookers vying for a glimpse of her. She winced at the camera flashes and intrusive questions being hurled her way, feeling like a tiger on display at the zoo. “It’s just like it was before. I can’t handle it. I need to go.”

He nodded and took her hand. “They’ll want to send a patrol car with us, but I think we should be able to slip away. Come on.”

She went with him, eager to leave the entire nightmare behind.

WITH SADIE tucked safely in bed attempting to get some rest, Brody was left to stew in guilt, rage, and alcohol. It was a volatile combination that left him restless and irritable, but at least it was better than the grief he’d feel if she was dead.

As it was, there was so little he could do, so little he could say, to make things better. And although Sadie was putting on a strong face for his benefit, he could only imagine how she felt reliving the nightmare she’d run from nearly her entire life. How terrified she must be to know the person stalking her, whether it be Drew or not, didn’t just want her attention—he wanted to kill her.

But why? Brody wondered, opening his laptop on her dining table. He absently searched the web for coverage of the incident, feeling the need to do something other than sit and brood. How did obsession turn into violence?

He mindlessly scanned breaking news articles mentioning Sadie’s name, his temper sparking when he saw the images his fellow paparazzi had nabbed of her outside the venue. There were a few shots of him holding her, and more of her facing the crowd looking weak and terrified. He wished the camera could have captured more of her strength and less of her fear, if only to show the world she was tougher than they thought. But that didn’t make a good story, he knew. You always chose moments of brokenness and tears over quiet strength—it carried a higher price tag.

The reports didn’t carry many specifics on what happened, other than that Sadie had been assaulted while onstage during her performance. The spokesman for the venue claimed they were looking into the break in their security that allowed someone unauthorized to get backstage and access the electrical panel to shut down the power.

Brody knew it wouldn’t be difficult to do. He’d walked the backstage area and seen just how little everyone was paying attention. It wasn’t a venue accustomed to high profile performers in need of extensive security. They hadn’t been prepared for this, plain and simple. And if he was being honest, never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined Sadie getting attacked onstage, either. Things like that just didn’t happen. Which was exactly why Drew, or whoever it was, had been able to pull it off.

He exhaled slowly and ran his hands through his hair, mentally pushed to the limit. If he wasn’t so afraid to leave Sadie alone he would go to Valerie’s house himself to see if Drew was there. Instead he was stuck waiting on the police to find him, helpless to do more than sit in front of the computer and sulk.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him back to reality. He pulled it out and saw it was Chase. “Hey.”

“
How’s Sadie doing?
” Chase asked, concern in his voice.

Brody closed his eyes and kneaded his left temple tiredly. “Sleeping, I hope.”

“
I assume you’re staying with her for the night.
”

“I’ll stay as long as she wants me here,” Brody confirmed, sitting back in his chair. “She wanted me to tell you thanks, by the way, for painting the driveway.”

“
No problem, I was happy to do it. Hey, so I came across something today that I think you should know about.
”

Brody’s eyebrows creased. “What is it?”

“
Well, Valerie called me this morning to discuss dropping the lawsuit, which is good news. But while she had me on the phone, she asked me to look for an old case file from 2002, a wrongful death lawsuit that was filed against her. She said she couldn’t remember the name of the person who filed the claim, but that she was curious. I didn’t ask why, of course.
”

“Why have I never heard about this lawsuit before?” Brody wondered aloud, already leaning forward to type into the computer and do a quick search on it.

“
Probably because it was dropped before it ever went anywhere,
” Chase replied. “
Anyway, it was filed by Lee Walker’s ex-girlfriend after he died. Apparently the woman thought she could get some money by claiming his death caused her financial hardship.
”

“How so?”

“
Child support.
” Chase paused, letting the words sink in. “
When Walker died, the money he was sending her dried up.
”

A chill ran through Brody. “Walker has a kid?”

“
Yes. A son who was sixteen years old at the time of his father’s death. Back then he lived with his mother in Seattle, but he could be anywhere now. I was thinking it’s possible he could be your stalker, and maybe Valerie had a hunch about it.
”

Brody let out a long rush of breath, stunned by the revelation. “Let me guess, this kid’s name is Drew.”

“
Yeah, how’d you know that?
” Chase asked.

“Because he’s been here in L.A., hanging out with Sadie and Valerie acting like he’s a fan or something,” Brody told him, shaking his head and mentally cursing himself for not making the connection sooner.

Chase sighed. “
I wish I’d known about this before. I hate thinking this could’ve been prevented.
”

“What I want to know is why it was never mentioned in the press that Walker had a son? You’d think that would make it in there somewhere.”

“
It probably didn’t help that he had his mother’s last name. Really, the only connection between the two would be the child support paperwork, but no one ever thought to look. Walker had no interest in knowing his son. I doubt any of his friends even knew he had a child.
”

“What’s the last name?” Brody asked.

“
His given name is Andrew Lee Hewitt. He has a pretty impressive rap sheet—possession of illegal substances including marijuana and methamphetamine, domestic abuse, a couple D.U.I.s. From what I can tell, after the domestic abuse charge he was under a court order to see a psychiatrist, who determined he has Bipolar Disorder with frequent manic episodes.
”

“Christ,” Brody managed, disgusted. “He probably came to L.A. when he heard Sadie was back. He couldn’t resist fucking with her.”

“
I suggest you call the police and give them a heads up, Brody. And don’t make any rash decisions until you do,
” Chase warned.

Brody let out a dark laugh. “Even if I knew where he was, I couldn’t kill him. I don’t own a gun. Then again, I could choke the life out of him like he tried to do to Sadie.”

“
I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that part
.” Chase sighed. “
Good luck and stay safe, okay?
”

“Thanks, Chase. I mean it.” Brody hung up the phone, setting it aside as he absorbed everything he’d just learned. This was huge. Suddenly everything made a hell of a lot more sense, including the reason for the attack on Sadie. If Drew had gotten it into his twisted, psychotic head that Sadie was somehow responsible for his father’s death, then that easily could have driven him to hurt her.

Without wasting another second, he jumped to his feet and went to the front door. He opened it, peering out into the night. The patrol car that had followed them earlier was parked on the street, the two cops inside mere silhouettes in the dark.

He turned on the porch light to catch their attention, then walked out to the car. They rolled down the passenger window and eyed him curiously.

“Everything okay?” One of the cops asked.

Brody tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded. “You get the guy?”

“No confirmation yet,” the cop replied.

“Right.” A hard grin played over Brody’s features. “Well get on the radio and phone this in. I have his full name and I know exactly why he did it.”

T
HOUGH SHE’D woken hours earlier, Sadie stayed in bed and pretended to sleep. She heard Brody get up, leaving her with nothing but the silence of her bedroom and her troubled thoughts.

Sleep had eluded her for most of the night, but she wasn’t surprised. There were too many questions swirling around in her mind for her to rest. Questions and worries for what lay ahead of her now that the media surely must be having a heyday with this latest incident.

The attack itself frightened her, but unlike when she’d been a teenager, she wasn’t going to let it break her. What happened, happened, and there was nothing she could do now except help the police find the person who did it and move on with her life.

Should she feel more afraid? she wondered, her eyes opening to stare at the white ceiling of the bedroom. Was she a fool for pushing back the emotions she thought she should be feeling in favor of a level head?