Chapter 25

Despite the excitement surrounding the car bomb, dress rehearsals went off without a hitch. As a group, they’d held a moment of silence for the two people caught in the blast. Cassidy couldn’t help but feel responsible. Logically, she knew it wasn’t her fault some twisted individual had fixated on her, but three people were now dead. How could she not feel culpable?

As they were driving to the studio the next day, Mason’s phone buzzed. Waking up in his arms was becoming her favorite part of the day—well, second favorite. Lying with him at night, kissing, touching, making love, that was definitely number one.

She enjoyed getting to know his teammates as well. Both Sawyer and Kellan were easy-going and fun to be around. And Harlow had quickly become her best friend.

He disconnected the call. “That was Parsa. He has some news. Said he’d meet us at the studio.”

Marcus’s sign-toting fan club groupies were back with their cardboard placards and verbal tirades. Security had moved them across the street, but that didn’t stop the women from hurling nasty volleys her way. When she arrived at the studio, she’d ask one of the caterers to deliver coffee and pastries to them. Spewing nasty filth and venomous hate had to take a lot out of them.

Technicians were installing security cameras when they arrived at the lot. Cassidy prayed they’d catch whoever was behind the attacks. A burst of panic flared deep in her belly. If they captured the person responsible, would Mason leave? Technically, his assignment would be over. Russell hired him to protect her from the threats and with the suspect behind bars, the case would be closed. She glanced at his strong, solid profile. The thought of not seeing him every day frightened her. He’d become her rock. She had to believe he wouldn’t leave since he’d originally come to guard Harlow.

Sawyer parked the SUV and they headed for the practice facility. Detective Parsa was already waiting for them. “Is there someplace private we can talk?”

“We can use my trailer,” Cassidy offered. She led the way, with Harlow at her side.

“Do you think they caught the guy?” Harlow whispered.

“I hope so.”

Trey jumped in front of her and spread his arms wide, singing, “Hey, hey, Cassie, she’s my favorite lassie.” Then, as if just hearing what he said, he quickly corrected, “I mean that in the Scottish way. I’m not calling you a dog, like the TV collie.”

She smiled, wondered if he was ever in a bad mood. He seemed to have a perpetual grin and sunny attitude. “I understood what you meant.”

His gaze moved past her to the group of men behind her that included Detective Parsa. His smile disappeared and he grabbed her hand. “Is everything okay? Did something else happen?”

“I’m not sure. Detective Parsa needs to speak with us.”

“Can I come, too?”

Trey had been such a huge support to her, never letting her dwell over what had happened or wallow in self-pity. All of this had affected him, too. “Sure.”

She unlocked her trailer and after Mason did a quick check, they all piled inside. She scooted into one of the bench seats with Trey sliding in beside her. Harlow sat across from her, with Sawyer at her side. Mason and Kellan stood, as did Detective Parsa. He wasted no time getting down to business. “We found Barry Nelson.”

Cassidy sucked in a breath, hope engulfing her. If they’d captured him, all the torment would be over. People would stop dying because of her.

“Where? And I want a minute alone with him,” Mason growled

Parsa wiped a hand down his face. “Yeah, that’d be a little difficult. We found him hanging from the rafters in an abandoned house in the Valley.”

Harlow gasped. “He’s dead? Does this mean it’s over?”

Parsa’s mouth tightened. “Optimistically, I’d say it looks like the case is closed. We found the sniper rifle that was used to shoot at you among his belongings. Ballistics matched the bullets. Plus, we found a receipt for the hotel where the shooting took place. That’s why we couldn’t find a trace of him. He just retreated to his room and hid out until we were gone.”

“Why wasn’t his name flagged?” Kellan asked. “He was a suspect, so any credit card activity should’ve been monitored.”

“He paid cash. We also found all the makings for a bomb like the one he used to blow up Ingram’s car. We also found dozens of snapshots of Ms. Swain, taken at various locations. It was obvious you didn’t know you were being photographed.”

Cassidy shuddered, hating the fact that he’d been close enough to take pictures for who knew how long. Trey wrapped an arm around her in comfort and Harlow squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“He left a suicide note.”

“What did it say?” She was almost afraid to know.

“That he didn’t mean to kill anyone yesterday. His targets were you, Russell Ingram and Marcus Howe. Ingram since he blackballed him. He didn’t say why he targeted Howe.”

“They had a falling-out a few years ago. I’m not really sure why.”

“Ah.” Parsa nodded. “That would explain it.”

“What else?” Mason’s jaw was locked.

Parsa sighed. “He said he snapped when Ms. Swain spurned his advances and then took out a restraining order on him.”

“But why now?” That had been bothering her. It’d been months since the restraining order expired. Why hadn’t he attempted something sooner?

“He didn’t say, but my theory is that he waited for the new season to start so you would all be in the same place, therefore, easier to target.”

“I’m not criticizing the police because we’ve been searching for him, too, but he was getting away with it,” Sawyer pointed out. “Why off himself now?”

“The suicide note said he realized he’d dropped his wallet and he had no access to cash. We’d impounded his car, so he had no means to get away. It was just a matter of time before he was caught. He didn’t want to go to prison.”

Cassidy understood that. Barry Nelson wasn’t the kind of man that would do well being locked up.

“How did you find him?” Mason asked.

“He purchased a disposable cell. He dialed nine-one-one and left the line open before he slipped the noose over his head and kicked the chair away. A car went to check it out and found him.”

Parsa closed his notebook and slid it in a shirt pocket. “As far as the LAPD is concerned, the case is closed. All indications point to him working alone with no sign of an accomplice. If anything else happens, like with those wackos across the street, give me a call.”

“By wackos, you mean the four women protesting me?”

Parsa nodded. “I mean, come on, get a life.”

Cassidy smiled, feeling an immense relief. She didn’t wish anyone dead, but she also couldn’t muster much sympathy for Barry Nelson. He’d ruined lives. He’d killed.

“Let’s go celebrate with the best dance of the night,” Trey proclaimed. Then he glanced at Harlow. “Oops, sorry, Mrs. Oldham. How about we co-share best dance of the night.”

Harlow laughed. “That sounds like a plan. Now I better go find my partner before he thinks I ditched him.”

Sawyer slid out of the booth and helped his wife out. He shook hands with Parsa and they left.

“We’d better get some last-minute practice in,” she told Trey. He stood and shook Parsa’s hand.

“Thank you for all your hard work on behalf of my partner.”

Cassidy smiled, hoping he’d always stay humble and kind. He was young, and Hollywood had a way of corrupting even the most diligent souls.

After he moved away, she shook the detective’s hand. “Thank you so much, Detective Parsa. I appreciate all your hard work. I’ll sleep better at night.”

“My pleasure, Ms. Swain. Break a leg tonight…er, sorry. Are you supposed to say that to a dancer?”

She laughed. “Sure. We’re performers, too.”

Mason took his turn thanking the detective. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, but I appreciate all you’ve done, and for being so easy to work with. Some cops don’t appreciate our interference. You can expect a letter of gratitude from my company to be forwarded to your boss for your permanent file.”

Parsa looked surprised. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“I got one of those and look at me now,” Kellan remarked, his arms held wide and they all laughed.

“If I was twenty years younger, I’d consider applying for a job myself. You’re more organized and professional than any of the other cops or agencies I deal with on a daily basis.”

With one last wave, Cassidy followed Trey out the door. Mason caught up to them and placed a hand on her lower back.

She tried to sound casual. “I guess your assignment is over now that the culprit is dead.”

He leaned down to whisper, “You’re not an assignment.”

A delicious shiver raced all the way down her spine.

#

Mason sat in the front row with Sawyer and Kellan as the second episode of the season kicked off. Even though the case was officially closed, his contract with Russell and the television company lasted for the duration of the show. If Russell did decide to end it now, Mason wasn’t leaving Cassidy’s side. She’d managed to do what he swore he’d never allow to happen again. She’d gotten under his skin. He was afraid he was becoming addicted to her. Oh hell, who was he kidding? He was already. She was everything he didn’t know he wanted.

If someone asked him two weeks ago if he’d ever let another woman close, he’d have spat an emphatic no. Once burned, twice shy. The pain and heartache weren’t worth it. But Cassidy Swain was beauty and grace, elegance and strength, kindness and compassion. She’d laughed at Kai’s joke like it was the funniest thing ever. He’d overheard her sending coffee and pastries to the women who’d tormented her with vile insults. She’d stood tall and proud when being yelled at by Marcus Howe’s family. And she’d been courageous and strong while Barry Nelson set out to destroy her life.

She was in a word, perfection.

So was their dance. Three perfect scores. Trey’s prediction came true as Harlow and Glen tied for top of the leaderboard. After the final dance of the evening, the host called for all the couples to return to the stage for the first eliminations of the season. Mason was nervous, even knowing Cassidy and Trey and Harlow and Glen had scores that should keep them safe.

“Now I will announce the bottom three. Remember, this isn’t necessarily the three couples in the bottom, but two do have the lowest combined judges’ scores and audience votes. The first couple in jeopardy are…” Long pause. “Trey and Cassidy.”

“What?” Mason surged to his feet. His question was drowned out by the voracious boos raining down on the stage. Trey smiled, but it waivered. Cassidy’s smile looked confident and calm as she attempted to reassure her partner. Mason was so lost in his anger, he hadn’t realized Sawyer and Kellan had joined in his boos.

“Okay, okay, folks, calm down,” the host chided. “Let’s not start throwing things. The next couple in jeopardy are…” Another ridiculously long pause. “Billy and Irina.” A few boos, but for the most part, it seemed as if the audience agreed with that announcement. Their dying swan routine would go down as one of the most ridiculous dances in the history of the world, at least in Mason’s unprofessional opinion.

“And the final couple in the bottom are…” These lengthy pauses were getting out of hand. “Ruth and Bryan.” Boos, but they seemed more polite than passionate. “That means the rest of the couples are safe and we’ll see you back next week. Trey and Cassidy, Billy and Irina, Ruth and Bryan, could you please join me down here.”

The couples all moved to where the host indicated. The lights dimmed, and they were hit with spotlights. Dramatic music played. Mason rolled his hand in the universal sign for “get on with it.”

“I can now announce the first couple who will be leaving us tonight.” Yep, extended pause. “Billy and Irina.”

The crowd booed—with help from assistants holding up signs instructing them to do so—while the duo looked sad but resigned. Mason thought Billy looked relieved. The two hugged and before they stepped forward to listen to what the judges had to say, Irina crossed over to Cassidy and whispered something in her ear. What the hell was that about?

Irina walked back to her partner and stood next to the host while he said nice things, then it was the judges turn. A waste of time if you asked him, but then, no one did. They were lukewarm with their criticism but encouraged Billy to keep dancing. Mason could practically hear the man say, “No way in hell.” Finally, they were done and waved to the crowd as they disappeared backstage. Spotlights framed the remaining two couples.

“And the other couple joining Billy and Irina and going home tonight…” Stupidly-long pause. Mason vowed to have a talk with Russell about these idiotic gaps. "…will be announced when we return from this commercial break.”

Mason threw up his hands. “Are you kidding me?” He was about to lose it. Though the breaks were only like three and a half minutes, this one would seem like an eternity.

“Bro, unclench.”

He swiveled his head and narrowed his gaze at Sawyer. “They shouldn’t be in the bottom,” he said through teeth that were indeed clenched tight.

“They’re safe,” Sawyer stated with complete certainty. “Russell, or whoever decides these things, is just doing this for the shock factor.”

“That better be the case or I’ll give him something to be shocked over.”

He ignored Sawyer and Kellan’s amused guffaws.

Finally, finally, the red light on top of the camera clicked on and they were live again.

“To recap…”

Mason goggled at the host. Recap? Who needed a recap? Did they think people’s attention spans were that short?

“Billy and Irina are the first couple who will be leaving the show tonight. Joining them and leaving tonight will be…” Mason could’ve walked back to Indiana in the amount of time it was taking him to make the final announcement. “Ruth and Bryan.”

Ruth and Bryan. Ruth and Bryan! Not Trey and Cassidy. Good. All right. He could breathe again. His lungs began to fill with air. Cassidy was safe.

“See, I told ya.” Sawyer slapped him on the back. He glanced at the stage to see Trey hugging Cassidy and hopping up and down like a Mexican jumping bean. Mason wondered if he’d ever been that young and enthusiastic. Oh right, at Trey’s age, he’d been knee-deep in death and destruction, fighting tangos and serving his country.

The overhead lights snapped on and the crowd started departing. Cassidy and Harlow would have post-show interviews and then a short practice session where they would go over the dances for next week’s performance with their partners.

Mason plopped in his seat. How would he ever endure more eliminations like this? It wasn’t as if the show was solving world peace or curing cancer or anything. It was a dance competition, for hell’s sake. Still, he knew how much it meant to Cassidy and therefore, it meant everything to him.