Novel Square
Passenger Princess: Chapter 47
I walk back down to the lobby of the building, escorted by the security we encountered at the front, and stand there, waiting for one of them to order me to leave. But to my surprise, they let me hang in the lobby and wait, fully planning to stay here the full six hours until Ava is done.
In the meantime, I make some calls.
First, I try Miles, who doesn’t answer before I dial Five Star.
Upon calling the Five Star Security offices, I don’t get through to Greg, fucking coward that he is, but I do talk to his assistant, who sounds apologetic, at least, as she gives me options for dates to come in and set up a meeting with Greg where, I assume, I’ll be fired. I tell her I’ll call back and make an appointment when I have a better idea of what we’re doing in the next week before hanging up and trying Miles again.
Unfortunately, I get his voicemail this time too, so I hang up before dialing Hank and explaining everything that’s happened since I last saw him.
‘What I don’t get,’ he says after I fill him in, ‘is why did they send a new man out from the same agency?‘
‘Well, I’ve been fired, so—’
‘If I still owned that place, I’d be annoyed, and I might be planning to fire the man, but with only one more event on the job, I wouldn’t reassign the position. A waste of time, a waste of resources.’
‘What are you saying, Hank?’
‘Look, I don’t know how this man does business. Maybe this is just his style; maybe he does things differently. But it doesn’t make sense to send a man across the country for one event, not when you aren’t putting Ava at risk. If it were me, I’d have you finish the assignment, come back to the office to explain, and once I heard your story, then I’d either fire you or put you on probation.’
‘Meaning…’
‘Meaning, in my opinion, the Miss Americana organization requested a new man be sent out.’
My brow furrows in confusion as I try to put those pieces together.
‘Why would they want to retain the same agency, though? Why not just hire someone local? Or, even more, since they were never really worried about her safety at all, why even bother? There’s event security here, that should have been enough.’
‘Those are the questions, aren’t they?’ Hank asks, and nausea roils in my stomach with these new thoughts.
Before I can say anything more, my phone rings in my hand, and I pull it away, seeing Miles’s name on the screen and letting Hank know I have to take it.
‘See if he’s found anything. You have him digging into Regina, right?’
I sigh, then nod. ‘Yeah.’
‘Good. Call me back if you learn anything.’
‘Will do,’ I say, then hang up and answer Miles’s call.
“Hey, man, have you—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Are you with Ava?” Miles asks without any introduction, his voice brusque and abrupt.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.
“What?”
“Do you have eyes on your girl, Jaime?”
My stomach sinks to the ground at his question.
“I don’t—”
‘If you don’t, do it. Get your eyes on that woman right now.”
My pulse starts to beat in my veins. “Miles, what are you talking about—”
“You’ve got a good gut, Jaime. I was just looking in the wrong spot. Anne Holmes—you know her?’
‘I… yeah, I know her. She’s Miss Utah.’
‘Did you know she’s Regina Miller’s niece?’
My body goes cold.
‘Miles—’
‘She was a shoo-in for the crown, apparently. Everyone knew it. I just got some information that she was gunning to be the youngest Miss Americana.’
‘Okay…’ I say.
‘I got some IP addresses from Ava’s social media accounts, the death threats and stalker shots.’ My heart stutters, and I wonder if it will start again. ‘Those messages Ava got? They came from the IP address of Anne Holmes.”
My heart starts again, this time pounding. “What?’ I ask, the words cold.
“They were a bit scrambled, redirected a few times, but eventually I could find the source, and it’s Anne Holmes’ phone. She has a dozen burner accounts made from the same location, it seems. Now I’m working on the actual letter sent to the Miss Americana offices—I got a photocopy of it from my source, and apparently, there were a few more sent in and not reported. I’m running a handwriting analysis software now, but at least four of the seven most alarming messages Ava received directly through her social media were sent from Anne Holmes’ phone.”
“We’re just learning this now?’ I ask, even though I know I’m directing my panic and fury at the wrong person.
“Calm the fuck down, most of this came up in the past few hours or so from the last twelve hours I spent putting pieces together. I didn’t need you jumping in and going all Rambo off a hunch. But then I got a call twenty minutes ago that made things a bit more interesting.”
I had been moving towards the elevator we took to get Ava to the third floor, but I froze at the way his words hung in the air. “Miles, I swear to fuck—”
“The man who tried to assault Ava in Georgia cut a deal with the DA and spilled everything. Don’t lose your shit, but he says he was asked by Anne to try and get Ava riled up, get her some bad press shots, or at least freak her out enough to want to step down. According to him, he was supposed to make her uncomfortable, touch her ass, or whatever, but make it seem like she was exaggerating, crafting something out of nothing. Unfortunately, your girl is a bit of a loose cannon—”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I say, feeling the need even now to protect her.
“I just mean they didn’t expect her to snap back the way she did or for the press to lean in her favor. Seems your kitten bites.” Despite everything, I can’t fight the tip of my lips for just a moment, because he’s not wrong. “I’m going to do more digging, particularly on the hotel break-in and any other reports of strange incidents at any of your stops. It could all be unrelated, coincidental, but I don’t trust Regina Miller or anyone on her payroll.”
“Fuck,” I mumble, deciding to skip the elevator, and looking for the stairs. “I gotta go.”
“Jaime—” But he doesn’t finish because I’m hanging up and sprinting toward the door to the stairs.
“Sir, you need to—” Someone tries to stop me, but I don’t listen.
Instead, I’m storming up the stairs, eyes glued to Ava’s location on my phone, and praying to whoever the fuck will listen that I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life by leaving her side.