Rebel Sweetheart

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Rebel Sweetheart Page 14

by Sydney Canyon


  “I got tired of chasing bad guys, and protecting witnesses who were just as bad as the guys I was chasing,” Shane sighed.

  “Well, it couldn’t have all been boring. You sound like you miss it.”

  “I do from time to time. I protected presidents when the Secret Service was in the area, as well as other dignitaries. And I helped catch some pretty serious criminals. So, it wasn’t all that bad. I enjoy working in private service now.”

  “Well, I for one am I’m glad you made a career change. Although, I may be a little biased.” Emma Jean smiled. “What do you think of Haley? She sings like an angel,” she gushed. “I remember her running around as a child, singing and playing an old ratty guitar her father picked up at the second-hand store.”

  Shane laughed. “She’s a very talented singer and musician. I have to admit, I wasn’t a country fan when I met her—”

  “I bet you are now,” Emma Jean said with a wink and a beaming grin.

  Shane swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering if the maid had seen them on the couch in the music room. The color began to drain from her face. She knew Haley had mentioned her duties, but she couldn’t remember what she’d said.

  “I best be on my way. What time does your bus leave in the morning?” she asked, looking at Haley.

  “We should be gone by nine-thirty at the latest.”

  “I’ll come tidy up after you’ve gone. You have fun and be careful,” she said, pulling Haley into a hug. “I like her. Your momma and daddy would, too,” she whispered.

  “Uh huh,” Haley mumbled.

  “I’m glad you have her looking out for you,” Emma Jean added before pulling away.

  “Thank you for the food. You know you don’t have to cook for me,” Haley said, smiling like a little girl.

  “I know that. I do what I want. Besides, you’d starve to death if it wasn’t for me.” She turned to Shane. “You keep her safe,” she said, squeezing her hand. “It was so nice to meet you.”

  “I’ll do my best. I’m sorry again for startling you,” she said, keeping her composure as thoughts raced through her head.

  “I’ll be fine.” Emma Jean smiled and walked out the door as quietly as she’d come in.

  ***

  Haley and Shane sat side by side at the island, finishing the last of their dinner as the sun began to set.

  “Why does she call you Haley Jo?” Shane asked.

  “That’s my first name. Jo is after my father, John. I dropped it and legally changed my name when I signed with my label, but my family still calls me Haley Jo.”

  “I see,” Shane said, adding, “you seem excited about getting back on the road.”

  “Absolutely. Live performances are unlike anything else. I love the energy I get from the fans. It’s a natural high.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Shane ate her last bite and got up with her plate to toss it in the trash. She wondered why Haley had cabinets full of beautiful dishes, but opted for disposable plates. “What does Emma Jean do when she’s here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Does she go in and clean all of the rooms, or just specific ones?”

  Haley looked at her with her face slightly distorted in an odd expression. “She cleans everything but my music room and den, and she only cleans my bedroom when I’m not home. Other than that, she pretty much keeps the rest of the house in order. Why?”

  “I was just asking. She seems really nice,” Shane said, sighing inwardly, knowing the older woman hadn’t seen them together.

  “She’s sure smitten with you,” Haley laughed. “You never told me that story about how you became a Deputy Marshal.”

  “I guess you never asked,” Shane replied. “How did you wind up in music?”

  “That would be my father’s fault. He bought me the guitar, as Emma Jean told you. I taught myself to play it, and singing just came naturally to me. My mother had always been a big part of the church, singing in the choir and playing the piano. I actually learned piano first. She started teaching me when I was old enough to sit still. She used to play Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, Dolly Parton, and Juice Newton songs on the piano when we were the only ones in the church. Those were actually the first songs I learned to play. My father loved Johnny Cash, Elvis, the Beatles and pretty much all rock and roll from the seventies. As an only child, I got a good mix of the two of them. Anyway, when I was about fourteen, my father took me down to a local honky tonk called the Hillbilly. The bar owner thought my old man was nuts, but he shook his head and waved his hand at the stage. My knees knocked together as I walked across the room with my guitar, but as soon as my fingers touched the strings, I came to life. I sang Dolly Parton’s Jolene, and blew him away. That was the start of my first steady gig. I played there twice a month on Saturday nights until I left for college. I still have an open invitation to play there anytime I want, and I usually do when I’m in town.”

  “Wow. Is that the reason you sing it now on tour?” Shane asked.

  “Oh yeah. I’ve sang it on every one of my tours to pay tribute to how I got my start. Dolly loved it when I told her my story the night I met her at the CMAs, and she gave me the go ahead to record it. She’s a hoot in person.”

  “I bet,” Shane replied, tossing her plate in the trash. “I remember hearing it on one of your albums.”

  Haley looked at her slightly slack jawed. “You’ve listened to my albums?”

  “Yeah, when I was first hired. You can tell a lot about a person by the songs they sing or books they write. Every artist puts a little piece of themselves in their work, no matter what form of art it is.”

  Taken aback, Haley merely nodded.

  “Speaking of the tour, what’s the rest of the schedule? Do you know?” Shane questioned, changing the subject.

  “St. Louis, Chicago and Atlanta are the next three stops, I believe. There are ten more regular stops, plus the three I missed,” Haley replied, tossing out her own plate.

  Shane nodded, mentally calculating how much longer she’d be a part of the tour if she didn’t put a stop to the letter writer.

  “I have some work to do, so you’ll hear music,” Haley said, walking into the living room.

  “I’ll keep my distance. You know I’m not trying to cause a distraction,” Shane said, grabbing her laptop.

  “It’s too late for that,” Haley mumbled to herself as she headed to her music room.

  ***

  Haley needed to get herself in the mindset for the tour, but the harder she worked, the more her thoughts slipped back to Shane, who was only a room away since she hadn’t heard her go up the stairs. She’d played her piano, picked her acoustic guitar, and even played her Les Paul as she went through her set list for the show. There were no changes from the previous show since the band was literally playing the next night. She hadn’t had time to go over anything with them. In fact, except for a brief phone call earlier in the day after she’d found out everything was back on, she hadn’t spoken much to the band. They’d exchanged sentiments and hugs at the funeral, but other than that, everyone had pretty much kept to themselves. Realizing she’d done all she could do, and it still wasn’t helping her focus, she turned out the lights and went up to her bed.

  Shane had listened to Haley sing and play music from her position in the living room until she fell asleep on the couch. She finally woke around four in the morning and went up to the bed to be more comfortable. Thoughts of Haley and the tour clouded her mind as she drifted off once more.

  Chapter 25

  The bus arrived on time, driven by Ricky Swaffey, better known as Rico Suave to the crew and band. She quickly loaded her gear and told him to get on the road. She was glad Rich had chosen him to drive for her. Many of the road crew guys also worked as drivers, but only a couple were allowed to drive her bus when Fizzy was unavailable. Rico Suave had been one of them.

  This one was a little smaller than the old bus, and
had a slightly different layout. The living area had a couch, with a chair and table across from it. The open kitchen galley was next to the chair, and the dinette table with two chairs was beside the couch. A wall with a door in the center, separated the sleeping quarters from the living space. Through the door was a short hallway with the washer and dryer on the left side, and a single bunk room on the right. It was set up nearly identical to the one Shane had slept in on the old bus. The other side of the hallway had another wall and doorway that led to the bathroom. The toilet and a small sink were on the left with a door to give the area privacy, and the shower and larger vanity were across from it. Another doorway led into the master bedroom, where a queen-sized bed was located, along with various closet cabinets, including one with a six drawer, built-in dresser.

  “This is ridiculous,” Haley mumbled, noticing that she once again had to share a bathroom with Shane, and this time she also had to walk through it to get in and out of her room, giving her even less personal space. “Damn it, Rich. It’s a good thing you’re just leasing this bus for the tour. I might have strangled you!” she growled, making her way into her own room to put her clothes away.

  Shane heard the grumbling, and assumed Haley wasn’t happy with the bathroom location, as she unpacked her suitcase and placed her clothes in the single closet cabinet and built-in two drawer dresser. She laid her laptop on the bed, and put her gun and holster in the nightstand next to it. Then, she flopped down on the bed with her phone and pushed the call button next to Dennis’s number. It rang a few times before he finally picked up.

  “I’m back on the road,” she said before he could answer.

  “Already?”

  “Yep,” she sighed. “We’re headed to St. Louis, I believe.”

  “Wow. That was fast. Okay. So, how is everything going?”

  “As to be expected. Haley is fit to be tied about something, as usual. I have to say, she is quite different at home.”

  “Hopefully, this will all be over soon. Have you given anymore thought to my suggestion?”

  “Yeah. Using her as bait isn’t the problem. She’s plenty visible. We have to wait for him to come to her.”

  “Do you think he will?”

  “To be honest with you, I figured he would’ve already done so by now. Maybe he’s just a lonely loser with nothing better to do than write threatening letters based on fake promises.”

  “That would be a good thing.”

  “Yes, but then again, she’ll have to deal with the threats for however long he decides to write them, or until we catch him. Did you get that magazine subscription information?”

  “I sent it a little bit ago, actually.”

  “I don’t have the Wi-Fi password for the bus,” Shane exhaled heavily. “I’ll probably have to wait until we arrive at the arena to look at it on the computer. I’ll see if I can pull it up on my phone. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good. Oh, and Jeremy tracked down the person who stole Lee Edmond’s identity. His name is Julio Valero, and he’s in Puerto Rico.”

  “That’s great. I know he’ll be happy. That guy has nearly bankrupted him twice now.”

  “I know,” Dennis said before hanging up.

  Shane set her phone on the nightstand and opened her laptop. The bus name and logo popped up, but she had no idea what the password was. “Great,” she mumbled, walking out of her room after trying a few different codes, including the old one, none of which worked. She knocked on the closed bathroom door and opened it when she didn’t get an answer. “Haley,” she called, standing in front of the other closed door in the bathroom, that led to Haley’s room. “Do you have the Wi-Fi password for the bus?”

  “What?” Haley growled, pulling the door open.

  “Did Rich give you the internet code? I tried—”

  “Huh? No. I don’t have any code. Ask Rico, or better yet, call Rich,” she snapped.

  And just like that, the bitch is back. Shane shook her head, humming the tune to Elton John’s song as she went back to her room to call Rich.

  ***

  Shane had nodded off on the couch in the living room during the drive, waking when she felt the bus come to a stop and settle into its lowered and parked position. She sat up, looking out the large windows at the arena as she stretched her muscles. “I need to get into the gym,” she mumbled to herself. This case had turned into a full-blown assignment away from home, and she hadn’t exercised since she’d arrived.

  Knowing Haley would be itching to get to work, Shane went to her room to put on her shoes and shoulder holster for her gun. Then, she slipped her Glock in place and pulled a black, fleece jogging jacket that was light and zipped in the front before walking into the bathroom.

  “I’m going to check things out and see if Rich is here yet. He has our two-way radios. Please don’t get off the bus until I return. You have my cell number if you need me,” she said to the closed door leading to Haley’s room.

  When she didn’t hear a reply, she shrugged and went about her business. She needed to check with arena security and figure out what was going on with the rental security.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Rich called as Shane entered the arena. “How was the drive?”

  “Uneventful,” she said.

  “Let me guess, she’s back to bitch mode.”

  Shane raised a brow.

  “She turns into a whole different animal on tour. I think it’s because she’s such a perfectionist. She puts herself under so much pressure. When she’s not on tour, she’s as sweet as can be. Anyway.” He smiled. “Here’s your radio and another for Haley to use on the bus. I’ll let you take it to her.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered.

  “The hired security should be here by four-thirty. The stage is already set up and ready to go. I know she’s probably chomping at the bit to get inside. The band is already setting up, so you can go ahead and take her in.”

  “Okay. Let me know when the rental cops arrive. We need to keep things tight.”

  “Got it,” he said as his phone began to ring. “It’s the insurance company. We’ve been arguing all day about the bus settlement,” he added as he moved away to answer it.

  Shane walked around the backstage area, which was set up pretty much the same as all of the other shows. Then, she headed back out to the buses. The door to Haley’s bus was open. She was still inside, but standing on the bottom step with her arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.

  “I was wondering if you forgot about your hostage,” she said sarcastically.

  “Nope.” Shane shook her head. It was hard to pull her eyes away from the white t-shirt with Pink Floyd’s logo stretched across Haley’s breasts, and the naturally tanned skin peeking through the rips along the thighs of her jeans. “This is your walkie-talkie,” she said, handing it to her. She’d already attached her own to the waistband of her jeans and ran the wire for the earpiece up under her jacket. It was loose from her ear and lying over her shoulder.

  Haley rolled her eyes as she clipped the walkie-talkie to her pocket. “Can we go now? I do have work to do.”

  “By all means,” Shane said, backing away and bowing slightly with her arm stretched out like she was curtseying.

  Haley shook her head and stepped off the bus with Shane quickly falling instep next to her.

  ***

  For the next hour and a half, Haley and the band went back and forth, working on their set list while trying to get back in the groove. They were having issues with timing, which was to be expected since they’d been away from each other for a week.

  Shane stayed backstage for a little while longer, then went outside to see if any early concert goers had arrived to get a sneak peek at the headliner. When she went back in to escort Haley to the bus to get ready for the show, she heard a single guitar playing. Cocking her head to the side, Shane snuck up the back of the stage and leaned against one of the metal supp
orts. The rest of the band had already left, and the arena staff was busy getting everything ready for the doors to open. A few of their security personnel was walking around the floor, so Haley wasn’t completely alone.

  ***

  Haley strummed a slow melody on her guitar as she hummed. She needed to call Shane so she could go back to the bus, but that meant she’d have to see her again. At least in her house, she could hide away for hours, nearly forgetting the charismatic woman was even there. But on the bus, they were once again closed up in a tight space and she had no place to escape to when her thoughts ran wild.

  She looked around at the fully lit arena. Rows of empty seats filled the floor and thousands surrounded them in the lower and upper decks. A shutter ran down her spine when she realized the letter writer could easily be sitting in any one of them, watching…waiting to hurt her, if that was really his plan.

  Haley sighed and set the guitar back in the stand. I think you would’ve tried by now if you really wanted to harm me, so the hell with you. I have a show to do. She straightened her back and turned to walk off stage. That’s when she saw Shane, and immediately shrieked, sounding like the screaming goat video everyone was sharing on YouTube.

  Shane bit her lower lip almost hard enough to make it bleed to keep from laughing. She’d never heard Haley make that sound before.

  “Fuck you!” Haley growled.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, still struggling to keep it together.

  “I’m fine!” Haley snapped, walking past her and exiting the stage.

  “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to startle you. I was looking for you to see if you were ready and heard the guitar,” Shane said, falling in step with her.

  “What is it with you and hearing music. It’s like some kind of trance that makes you seek me out. It’s actually a little creepy.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Haley grumbled, boarding her bus. “Tell Rich to find some damn food. This bus has nothing in the fridge.”

 

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