the screen on the wall, and his expression locked down. “He bring this shit with him?”
“He’s hoping he did.” Luna switched the images. “This is all the intel we have on the bombs. It’s been sent to all your cell phones.”
“What do you mean Trefor’s hoping he brought a bomber to our back door?” Ty asked. “And who’s the client?”
Luna nodded at me before stepping back from the conference table. “I’ll let Ronan answer that. He’s taking lead on this. He’s our explosives expert, and he has a personal connection to the client.”
Standing, I tapped a key on Luna’s laptop and the images changed to the three letters Sanaa had received.
“Wait a second.” Tyler sat up straighter in his seat. “Those are addressed to Sanaa. The Sanaa?” He looked at me in disbelief. “You know her?”
“Sanaa Narine,” I confirmed, ignoring his other question. “She’s been receiving bomb threats while on tour in Europe. There were three letters and three bombs. All were discovered before they detonated and they were neutralized, but the last one was under her stage and would’ve not only taken Sanaa’s life, but there would’ve been dozens of fatalities in the audience.” I clicked to the next images. “Because of the locations where the bombs were placed—hotel, tour bus and a venue right before a show, we’re assuming whoever it is has access to the tour personnel or is on staff.”
Cutting right to the key issue, Christensen spoke up. “With his resources, Trefor should have contained this already. Who on his team is running point?”
I glanced at Christensen. “My twin brother, Vance.”
Tyler whistled. “No shit, you have a twin?” Then he grinned. “Wait. Does he know Sanaa too?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Ty snorted. “Ask that again, and my money’s on Pyro.” Shoving his chair back, he stood and walked closer to the large screen. “Take it back two images.”
I clicked a couple keys on the laptop.
“There.” Ty pointed at the image of the bomb from the bus. “Now go back to where we were.”
I complied, and the latest images came up again. I knew where he was going with this, because I’d noticed the same thing.
Ty tapped the screen by the image of the tour bus. “You’re telling me this fuck got under this bus in a gated parking lot with floodlights, security cameras, and rent-a-cops all around and no one noticed?”
“That’s what Trefor’s claiming,” I confirmed. “The security feeds were pulled after the letter showed up in her dressing room on site. The assumption is the bomb wasn’t placed before but while the buses were parked all afternoon.”
“In broad daylight.” Ty shook his head. “Fucking ballsy.”
“The cameras aren’t catching the back side of the bus or the far corner of the parking lot,” Harm commented.
“Doesn’t matter.” Ty circled a finger around the bus. “He’d have to walk past at least one camera to get under that beast.”
“What if he didn’t walk?” Tyler asked. “What if he got under the bus before they pulled into the venue?”
Christensen stepped forward. “It does not matter where he came from or when he planted the device. Access should have been limited after the first threat. Security should have been tight.” He glanced at me. “All personnel on the tour should have been vetted.”
“According to Trefor, they were,” Luna interjected.
“Then why are we here?” Christensen asked. “Authorities abroad should have been alerted at the time of the threats.”
“Sanaa doesn’t want to alarm her fans. Her last concert on the tour is next week in London.” It was a weak excuse, but it’s what Trefor said.
“And she’s in the States, why?” Ty asked.
“Meetings,” I answered vaguely before giving as much information as I had about Vance’s MO. “My brother and Trefor are hoping whoever this is follows her to the States this week. Without the hundreds of staff members connected to the tour, it should be easier to isolate the threat and eliminate him if he shows up.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Ty asked.
“The letters are escalating as well,” Harm quietly added. “He says he’s going to make her suffer like he suffered.”
I glanced at Harm. I’d noticed the same thing. “Which is why Trefor and Vance think he’ll show.”
“So, security detail,” Tyler clarified, looking around the room. “For the world’s biggest recording artist with only six of us?”
“Five,” Luna corrected, tipping his chin toward Neil. “Christensen’s here because we may need to relocate her to one of his buildings. Currently she’s at the W Hotel in South Beach. They have the top