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It was a little after seven in the morning, and Taylor's day had already begun.
First, she had a scheduled interview on a morning news show, and afterward she had to visit a radio station to continue promoting her upcoming shows.
Many of those appearances had been arranged weeks in advance and couldn't easily be changed.
That was another reason Taylor needed personal protection.
Changing residences wouldn't solve the problem as long as she still had to appear in public. Every interview, transfer, or event forced her to be surrounded by dozens of strangers, and with so many people around, it was almost impossible to spot someone with bad intentions.
Through the glass, Ethan watched Taylor handle herself effortlessly in front of the microphone. She showed no sign of nervousness when the host asked pointed questions; she sidestepped them naturally and occasionally even responded with a witty remark that drew laughter from inside the studio.
She seemed like a completely different person from the frightened woman he had seen the night before.
As soon as the promotional segment ended, even before Taylor could leave the glass booth, exactly the same thing happened as at the television station.
Employees, producers, technicians, and assistants began gathering outside the door. Some already had their phones ready for pictures; others held albums, magazines, or scraps of paper, hoping for an autograph. Within seconds, the hallway was packed.
—Please, keep things orderly —Ethan said.
He had learned from the previous experience. He planted himself in front of the exit and spread both arms, easily holding back the staff members trying to approach at the same time.
—Everyone will get a chance, but one at a time. If you keep pushing, we're leaving without taking any pictures.
When Ethan hardened his expression, he could be quite intimidating. The dark suit, sunglasses, and silver handgun visible at his waist made it clear that he wasn't there to argue.
The crowd fell into order almost immediately.
Ethan signaled the other three security agents to move ahead. Two cleared the path toward the exit while the third kept the doorway open.
Then they allowed people to approach one at a time. Ethan stepped back into position beside Taylor and, hidden behind his sunglasses, watched their hands, bags, and every movement around them.
Taylor smiled, signed autographs, and posed for picture after picture. Every time it seemed they were finally done, someone else came rushing down the hallway with a phone in hand, asking for one last photo.
9:30 AM
District 21 -Intelligence
The Intelligence Unit's office had been buried beneath a mountain of files.
Folders, photographs, contracts, and personnel lists covered nearly the entire central table. The board was crowded with the faces of bodyguards, assistants, drivers, technicians, and former employees who had worked for Taylor over the past several years.
Chloe had kept her word. And judging by the amount of information she had sent them, she had also put her entire legal team to work through the night.
Antonio stood beside the board, sorting the photographs into categories. On one side were the current members of the security team; on the other, former employees and contractors.
Erin reviewed a list of itineraries while comparing dates with the incidents recorded in Los Angeles. Halstead studied the bomb squad's preliminary report.
Olinsky had claimed one corner of the table and silently worked his way through several files. Ruzek was checking the backgrounds of drivers and vendors, while Jin sat in front of three monitors, cross-referencing names against police databases, military records, and private security companies.
Voight watched the board from his office.
—How many people does a singer need just to leave her house? —Ruzek asked, holding up a particularly thick folder.
—Apparently a battalion —Olinsky replied without looking up.
Antonio hid a smile.
—Bodyguards, assistants, stylists, makeup artists, sound technicians, drivers, managers, publicists...
—Don't forget the person whose entire job is taking care of her wardrobe —Erin added.
Ruzek turned another page.
—There's someone here whose job is making sure she always has water at the right temperature.
Halstead looked up.
Jin kept typing without paying much attention to them.
—According to Chloe's records, one hundred and forty-seven people have worked directly with Taylor over the past three years.
Ruzek dropped the folder onto the table.
—One hundred and forty-seven?
—Not counting occasional vendors, venue employees, or local staff hired for individual concerts.
—Excellent —Antonio muttered—. So we only have to investigate half the music industry.
Halstead closed the report he was reading and glanced toward Ethan's empty chair.
—Remind me why we're doing this while Ethan is sitting in a suite at a five-star hotel with Taylor Swift.
Ruzek immediately looked up.
—And making three hundred grand for three days, like the bastard needs it.
—I bet he's eating something for breakfast right now that none of us can pronounce —Halstead added.
Antonio shook his head, although he couldn't keep from smiling.
—He had a piece of bone lodged in his back during an explosion. I wouldn't exactly call it a vacation.
—Minor inconvenience —Ruzek countered—. Three days next to a celebrity. I think I could handle a scratch.
Erin turned another page without looking up.
—If you're that jealous, call him. Maybe Taylor needs someone to hold her water.
Ruzek grinned.
—I'm not jealous. I'm just saying some people have way too much luck.
Halstead leaned back slightly in his chair.
—Ethan's been in the unit less time than some of us, and he already landed a side job that pays better than our entire careers.
—They hired him because he was there when everything went wrong —Erin pointed out.
—And because he's young, good-looking, and maybe the superstar already has her eye on him —Ruzek added—. I'm sure that had absolutely nothing to do with the decision.
Erin slowly looked up.
—Taylor is being stalked by a lunatic who tried to blow her to pieces. I doubt she's thinking about falling for anyone.
Ruzek tilted his head, suppressing a smile.
—I only said maybe she noticed him. But thanks for clearing that up.
—Clearing what up?
—That the possibility doesn't bother you at all.
Erin's fingers tightened around the file.
—It doesn't bother me.
—Of course it doesn't.
—Ruzek...
—I'm just saying, they'll be together for three days. Same room, twenty-four hours a day... He saves her life. Sounds pretty romantic.
Erin slammed the folder shut.
—Are you finished?
Ruzek's smile widened as he realized he had hit the mark.
—There it is.
—There's what?
—Nothing. I just wanted to test a theory.
Erin stood and pointed toward the windows.
—Keep testing it and you'll find out whether you can fly from the second floor.
Antonio let out a short laugh.
—I'd leave her alone, Adam.
Ruzek raised his hands and backed away.
—All right. She's not jealous. Perfectly clear.
Erin glared at him.
—Run.
Ruzek decided to take her advice.
Halstead looked at Erin with amusement but wisely kept quiet. He had recognized the tension in her voice and knew that pushing any further wouldn't end well for anyone.
Olinsky closed a folder.
—Ethan's locked up with a famous singer, her manager, her assistant, and a security team that already let a stalker and a bomb get through.
Everyone looked at him.
Alvin shrugged.
—I'd rather be here.
—That's because you're like a hundred years old —Ruzek said.
Olinsky stared at him blankly.
—And I could still throw you out that same window before Lindsay does.
Ruzek's smile vanished.
—All right. Message received.
Voight let them enjoy themselves for a few more seconds. Finally, he stepped out of his office and walked toward the board.
—You done worrying about the superstar's love life and finances?
The comment was enough to silence the group.
Erin immediately returned to her paperwork.
—Good —Voight continued—. Because while Morgan keeps the victim alive, we have to find the guy trying to kill her.
The mood changed.
Halstead reopened the bomb squad report and placed it in the middle of the table.
—The analysis is still preliminary, but we already have a few conclusions.
Antonio moved several folders aside to make room.
—What did they find?
—The cake was just a cover. The explosive was hidden inside the cat's body.
Ruzek frowned.
—The charge wasn't particularly large, but it was directed toward the front of the box. It wasn't meant to bring down the room.
Antonio studied a photograph of the scene.
—The guard survived because he was standing slightly off to the side. The box, the bones, and everything inside became shrapnel.
Ruzek examined the report.
—What kind of explosive did he use?
Halstead placed another photograph on the table.
—C-4. The lab found enough residue to identify it.
Antonio's expression hardened.
—You don't pick that up at a hardware store.
—No —Halstead confirmed—. It's a military-grade explosive.
Olinsky leaned toward the report.
—How did he detonate it?
—Remotely. The techs found pieces of a receiver in the debris. Whoever did this waited until they opened the cake and triggered the charge at exactly the right moment.
Erin crossed her arms.
—Then he was watching.
—Or he had someone inside telling him when to do it —Antonio pointed out.
Halstead nodded.
—Either way, he knew exactly when the package arrived and when they were opening it. That means he was watching the property or getting information from someone inside.
Olinsky kept his eyes on the photographs.
—So he knew what he was doing.
—Looks that way.
Halstead picked up a photograph of the debris and held it beneath the light.
Erin turned toward him.
—You think he's military?
Halstead took a moment before answering.
—I think he was trained.
He pointed to the report.
—The charge was compact, directional, and detonated with precision. Whoever built it knew how to concentrate the damage and control the timing of the blast. That points to someone with demolition training or professional knowledge of explosives.
Voight remained in front of the board.
—Don't assume he's still in the military. The C-4 could've been stolen, diverted, or obtained through someone else.
—But an amateur didn't build this —Antonio said.
—No —Halstead replied—. Whoever did this knew exactly what he was handling.
Jin turned slightly in his chair.
—Are we looking for bomb techs?
—Bomb techs, combat engineers, demolition specialists, EOD personnel... —Halstead set the photograph back on the table—. Anyone who worked with explosives during their service.
Voight studied the board.
—Don't limit yourselves to military.
Halstead nodded.
—Could be private security.
—Or mining, construction, industrial demolition —Antonio added.
—Even someone who worked around specialists long enough to learn what they needed —Olinsky said.
Voight pointed toward the photograph of the cake.
—He knew where Taylor was staying and when there'd be enough people around for a delivery not to draw attention.
—He also knew the staff would accept the cake —Antonio added—. He didn't choose an ordinary package. He picked something that looked like it belonged at the party, when everyone would be distracted.
Ruzek looked toward the board.
—Then he could've worked for her before.
—Or he knows someone who still does —Voight replied.
Jin brought up a new table on the central monitor.
—Chloe gave us the dates of every known incident. The first letters appeared in Los Angeles. Then they found the photographs inside the residence. Finally, the stalker anticipated the move to Chicago.
—And he got into Taylor's bedroom —Erin reminded them—. Let's not forget that.
Antonio placed the blurry photograph of the intruder beside the images from the bombing.
—That guy climbed the outside of the building, avoided the guards, found the right suite, and then escaped in the middle of the confusion.
—Physical conditioning, prior surveillance, and training —Olinsky listed.
—On top of knowing how to build a bomb —Halstead added.
Ruzek exhaled slowly.
—We're definitely not looking for some deranged fan living in his mother's basement.
Voight picked up a marker and drew three new columns on the board.
MILITARY SERVICE.
SECURITY AND EXPLOSIVES.
ACCESS.
—Start with the guards —he ordered—. Current and former. I want to know where they served, what training they received, why they left the military, and how they ended up working for Taylor.
Antonio picked up the first stack of folders.
—I'll take the current team. Employment history, debts, disciplinary problems, and any contact with the Chicago vendors.
—I'll work with him —Olinsky said—. I also want to interview the guards again. Separately. If any of them are lying, it'll be easier to catch.
Voight nodded and looked toward Halstead.
—You and Ruzek take former employees and security contractors. Focus on anyone who was fired or removed for inappropriate behavior.
Ruzek picked up several folders.
—Got it.
—Erin, assistants, drivers, and close staff. Find out who knew the itinerary before Taylor arrived in Chicago.
Erin nodded.
—I'll cross-reference access dates with the previous threats. If someone was around in Los Angeles and shows up here too, we'll find them.
Voight turned toward Jin.
—You help everyone. Military records, explosives licenses, security companies, aliases, and employment gaps.
Jin's fingers were already moving across the keyboard.
—I'll need a few minutes to reorganize the search.
For the next twenty minutes, the office settled into constant activity.
The jokes disappeared.
Halstead and Ruzek focused on military backgrounds.
Jin opened a new window on the monitor.
—I found something.
Everyone looked up.
Jin enlarged two digital files and projected them onto the main screen.
—I checked the forty-three guards and security contractors who worked directly with Taylor over the past three years. Five have military service. Two received explosives-related training.
Halstead moved closer to the monitor.
—What kind of training?
—One was a combat engineer. The other worked as a technician for a private company that handled controlled demolitions before moving into security.
Voight stepped out of his office.
—Do they still work for her?
—The combat engineer works for a company contracted for certain events. He isn't on the current Chicago roster, but he worked at two Los Angeles venues around the time the first threats appeared.
Jin switched files.
—The second one was the man injured last night. He was the one who received the package, so I think we can rule him out.
Erin studied the screen.
—Why?
—The company listed downsizing as the reason. But I found an internal complaint filed three weeks before his dismissal.
—For what? —Antonio asked.
Jin read from the document.
—Unauthorized access to dressing rooms and private areas. The report says he claimed he'd taken the wrong hallway.
Ruzek stopped turning pages.
—Once?
—Three times, at two different events.
Silence fell over the office.
Halstead leaned toward the monitor.
—Criminal record?
—No convictions. One arrest for disorderly conduct that was later dropped. After he was fired, he changed addresses twice, and there's a seven-month gap in his employment history.
—Where was he living when the letters started? —Erin asked.
Jin entered several commands.
—Forty minutes outside Los Angeles.
Antonio pointed toward the first man.
—What about the combat engineer?
—His registered address is in Nevada, but his phone showed up in Chicago three days ago.
Everyone exchanged looks.
Ruzek straightened.
—That sounds like a lot more than coincidence.
—It sounds like a lead —Voight corrected him.
Erin studied both faces on the screen.
—They both know explosives. They both had previous access to Taylor's environment, and both have connections to places where the incidents occurred.
Voight stood in front of the board for several seconds, studying the profiles.
—Don't tell Ethan anything yet.
Erin frowned slightly.
—He should know we have possible suspects.
—When we have something he can use, we'll tell him. Right now, all we have are coincidences. If we give him the wrong name, we pull his attention away from the real threat.
Voight set the marker down on the table.
—First we verify every detail. Then we talk to Morgan.
The unit went back to work.