Indigo Rain

by Elise Noble

  Dove had met Emmy last year when she got into some trouble of her own. A burning building, dead people, and a psycho-maniac had all been involved.

  And now my own family was ganging up on me.

  But we couldn’t possibly let Emmy go through with this ludicrous idea, could we? I’d heard Jae-Lin’s gasping breaths, seen Reagan’s broken body and the damage to Vina’s face. The last thing I wanted was for another poor woman to suffer.

  Although the chances were, that would happen anyway. At least with Emmy involved, we’d stand a chance of catching the felonious freak, and her last outlandish plan—with Red Bennett standing in for Travis at Glastonbury—had miraculously worked. Surely she wouldn’t have volunteered if there wasn’t a reasonable chance of success?

  “Is she trained for stuff like this?”

  Zander blew out a breath. “I haven’t seen her résumé, but I’m gonna go with yes.”

  “And what about backup? Would she have backup?”

  “A whole army, probably, and I’ll be there too. Lanie, please just go with us on this one and talk to Travis.”

  Zander had made up his mind. We were doing this, even though he shared some of my misgivings, and I could either help or hinder him. That only left me one option.

  “Fine. I’ll explain everything to him when we get to LA.”

  “Whoa. Wait a minute. You’re not going to Los Angeles.”

  “I bloody am. If you want me to play along with this hare-brained scheme, and you’re so convinced it’ll work, then I want to be nearby so I can see Travis when it’s over.”

  Travis was hurting. He’d called me quickly from the hospital to say Caitlin was in surgery, and I heard the pain in his voice. Even if I couldn’t give him a hug right away, being in the same time zone would be a vast improvement on our current situation. If Zander was going to the US, then I was going with him.

  Dove started laughing. “She’s beating you at your own game, Zee. Don’t worry; we’ll keep out of your way while you do your detecting.”

  “What do you mean, we’ll keep out of your way?”

  “Well, I’m coming too, obviously. Marlene’s great about us having time off whenever we need it. I’ll just make up the hours when I get back.”

  “Dee, you’re not coming.”

  “But I love LA.”

  “This isn’t a holiday.”

  “And I’m sure Alana needs some moral support, especially if you’re out investigating every day.”

  “No. Just no.”

  Okay, time to fight dirty. Zander could be so stubborn sometimes.

  “I guess if you’re away, that gives Dove and me more space to redecorate.”

  “Redecorate?”

  “We discussed it, remember? I want to put a whirlpool tub in the bathroom, and get one of those doggy water fountains for Bear, and brighten up the lounge a bit because cream’s such a dull colour.”

  “I said no to all of those things.”

  “No, you said ‘not right now.’ That’s completely different.”

  Dove saw where I was going with this. “We need more plants too. Some pots on the balcony, maybe. It’s the wrong time of year for tomatoes, but a few palm trees would work, and we could add shrubs for colour. What do you think about a hammock?”

  “I’d love a hammock. And Bear wants a new bed too. One of those mini four-poster ones with a canopy.”

  Bear wagged his tail when he heard his name again. He was totally on board with our plan.

  “We’re not tearing the whole place apart,” Zander said. “Think of the mess.”

  “If you’re not here, you won’t even notice.”

  He folded his arms, and I knew we had him. My brother was so easy to manipulate.

  “Fine. You can come. But until we catch this maniac, you’re staying in the hotel. I can’t work if I’m trying to keep an eye on you two at the same time.”

  “Okay, deal.”

  I’d won this round, but now the jitters set in. Would Emmy’s off-the-wall scheme result in success or disaster?

  CHAPTER 34 - ALANA

  I ALMOST WALKED right past Emmy at the airport. We all did, and she didn’t say a word until we were ten yards away and cursing her for being late.

  “Did you miss me?”

  It was Emmy’s voice, but…whoa. She’d flown to the US yesterday, and in that short time, she’d morphed into a leather-clad rock chick with dark brown hair cut into a choppy bob, perfectly winged eyeliner, and a dark red pout. The make-up made her face look thinner, her already high cheekbones more pronounced, and took five years off her age. Only her jaded eyes gave the game away, even though she’d turned them brown with coloured contact lenses.

  Now she gave us a twirl. “So? What do you think?”

  Dove still looked adorably confused, but Zander slowly smiled. “In present company, I can’t say you look hot, so let’s settle for ‘you look appropriate’ instead.”

  “I think the lipstick’s too much, but my assistant insisted.”

  The insecure girl lurking inside my head had a momentary panic that Travis might ditch me for her, but then I remembered Emmy was married, and the iron band coiled around my chest loosened infinitesimally.

  “I think the lipstick’s good,” I managed.

  “Do you have all your luggage?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we need to get going. The car’s already left to pick up Travis.”

  My heart pitter-pattered faster at the mention of his name. In less than an hour, I’d see him, and he wouldn’t leave my side until morning, when he’d drive to the recording studio with his new “girlfriend” for phase one of operations.

  Emmy had left her BMW 4x4 parked in a no-parking zone nearby, and she paused to tear the ticket off the windscreen and stuff it into the glovebox before climbing behind the wheel.

  “Does a day ever go past without you getting a fine?” Zander asked once we’d pulled out into traffic.

  “Sometimes. In places like, say, Egypt and Iraq, they don’t really have traffic wardens.”

  “Have you ever considered parking legally?”

  “Considered it. But then I did the math, and with the amount I earn per hour, it’s more economical for me to pay the fine than spend five minutes walking to the parking garage.”

  There was no bragging in her tone. She just stated a simple fact. Wow.

  “What about the time it takes you to do the paperwork?”

  “I factored the cost of my assistant into my calculations.”

  “Welcome to a whole other world,” Dove muttered. “Population: Emmy.”

  “Where are we staying?” Zander asked. “You said you’d arrange it.”

  “Malibu. At my place on the beach.” Emmy pointed two fingers behind her at Dove and me. “And you two are not allowed out on the beach. Not until this is over.” She put both hands back on the wheel. “Anyhow, I’ve got good news and bad news. Well, they’re sort of the same news. How you view it depends on whether you’re a negative nelly like Zander here.”

  Dove giggled, and I had to laugh too at that description of my brother. All through my teens, he’d been my cheering squad, Mr. Positive, even in the worst of times. But Emmy’s unfailing belief that she could do anything, no matter how impossible it seemed, made even the most hardened optimist look like a cynic.

  “Hit me with it.”

  Bad choice of words from my brother as Emmy overtook a slow-moving car and missed an oncoming truck by inches.

  “We’ve ruled out your stalker girl from Caitlin Wiles’s hit-and-run. Peyton. She was playing hostess for her mom at a business networking event in Ohio with fifty witnesses. Of course, she could still be on the hook for the other stuff, but…”

  “But you don’t think so.”

  “Honestly? No. I’ve looked at your notes, and while Peyton’s presence in Camden may have triggered this whole train of thinking, that everything’s connected, I think it’s someone closer to the band.”

 
; “Who?” I asked.

  Emmy smiled in the rear-view mirror. “Ask me that question tomorrow.”

  Skywater House was appropriately named. Beyond Emmy’s back garden, the sky blazed orange and pink as the sun dropped below the horizon, leaving the moon to illuminate the dark blue ripples of the Pacific. She gave us a quick tour of the place when we arrived, and it would have given the presenters on Grand Designs a wet dream. Four bedrooms, five bathrooms, open-plan living downstairs, a kitchen done out in granite and stainless steel, and a separate guesthouse down by the water. But the place felt sterile. Unloved.

  “Do you spend much time here?” I asked.

  “Not really. A couple of weeks a year, maybe? But not all in one go. Another of Blackwood’s directors deals with most of our business on the West Coast. I get the UK and Europe.”

  Dove was right. Emmy lived in a whole different world, but one I was grateful to be spending some time in, especially when I heard the crunch of tyres on the gravel drive outside. Travis walked in a minute later, and I flung myself into his arms. We’d been apart for less than two weeks, but it felt like forever.

  “I missed you.” I wanted to kiss him, but not with everyone watching. Okay, not with my brother watching. “How’s Caitlin?”

  “Still in hospital. The doctors are worried about her head.”

  “Is she awake now?”

  “She was for a while earlier, but even talking made her tired.”

  “Has she said anything about the accident?” Emmy asked. “The police had nothing last time I checked.”

  “She only remembers leaving the house to go jogging, then waking up in the hospital.” Travis looked Emmy up and down. “Hey, do I know you? Were you at LAX a few weeks ago?”

  Zander did the honours. “She was. Meet your new fake girlfriend. Uh, do you have a fake name?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” Emmy pulled a slim wallet out of her handbag and flipped it open to reveal a California driver’s licence. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

  I tried not to. Really I did. But it wasn’t happening. “Penelope Beaver?”

  “I thrashed our forger at pool the other day, and this was the result. With hindsight, I should’ve let him win.”

  Zander couldn’t keep a straight face either. “How about Penny?”

  “It hardly screams rock ’n’ roll, does it?” She huffed out a breath. “Penny fucking Beaver.”

  “Sounds more like a Bond girl.”

  “I’m gonna kill him when I get back to Virginia.”

  “But in the meantime?”

  “Fine. Penny.” Emmy’s expression morphed from sulky to sultry, and she turned back to Travis. “And from tomorrow, I’ll be your number one overly emotional, entitled, slightly loose groupie. Hashtag powered by trust fund.” She batted her eyelashes. “I can’t wait to go to the recording studio. Can I sit on your lap while you twiddle your knobs?”

  Travis gave me a “what the hell have I gotten into?” look.

  “She’s married,” I assured him.

  “What am I supposed to tell the other guys?” he asked. “They know I’m with Alana.”

  “Zander? Your thoughts?” Emmy raised an eyebrow, and I realised what she was asking. Did Zander believe that Travis’s bandmates were suspects?

  “They’re okay,” I told her, and Zander nodded his agreement.

  “Then call them tonight and explain what’s happening. Keep it brief. No details, understood?”

  Travis swallowed hard. “Got it.”

  “Penny scares me,” Travis said when we got upstairs to our bedroom. “Emmy. Whatever her name is.”

  A chef had served us dinner, but Emmy only ate two mouthfuls before her phone rang. After listening for a moment, she’d picked up her plate and disappeared into another part of the house. Dove tried to keep the conversation upbeat, but Travis had stayed on edge through the main course and dessert, and I couldn’t say I blamed him.

  “Emmy. Her name’s Emmy.”

  “Emmy, Penny, whatever. She looks like she’ll break my balls if I accidentally breathe funny.”

  “At least she’s on our side.” I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out across the beach. Bulletproof glass, Emmy had assured us earlier. “And we don’t have to think about her tonight.”

  Travis joined me, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me close as we both looked at the stars. It was a cloudless night, and I made a wish on the brightest speck in the sky. Please let this be over soon. Travis had trimmed his beard earlier in the week, going from artfully unkempt to a neat goatee, and it tickled my skin as his lips brushed my jaw. Apparently, his record contract forbade him from shaving it off completely.

  “No, tonight’s ours.” His arms tightened as he looked out at the ocean with me. “One day, I want to buy a house like this. Not just for me, but for us. Two years,” he whispered, almost to himself.

  At that moment, I felt like a traitor. Because although we still hadn’t heard back from the lawyers, I knew, I just knew, that Red Cat had done something really shitty in that contract. In two years, there probably wouldn’t be enough money to buy an apartment, let alone a beachside mansion.

  Rather than talking about it, I twisted to face Travis and kissed him instead. Tonight, we could hide out in our bulletproof-glass bubble where nothing and nobody could touch us—not Red Cat, not a homicidal maniac, and not the real world that existed beyond Skywater House’s high walls and neatly trimmed oleander hedges.

  I took Travis’s hand and led him towards the bed. “I don’t care about the house. I just want you.”

  CHAPTER 35 - ZANDER

  ZANDER LOOKED UP from his mug of coffee when the front door slammed. Though Dove was dead to the world with jet lag, he couldn’t sleep, so at five thirty, he’d gone downstairs so she didn’t get disturbed by his constant tossing and turning. Only Emmy was awake at that hour, running on a treadmill in the small gym that overlooked the swimming pool, complete with an iPad full of emails propped in front of her. She’d started work already. The gym was perpendicular to the rest of the house, and Zander had been watching her in his peripheral vision from his seat at the dining table.

  But now a small man staggered into the room, wearing a pair of denim cut-offs that showed his ass cheeks, a mesh vest, high heels, and cat ears. Bradley, Emmy’s assistant. A trail of glitter sparkled behind him.

  “Dying… I’m dying,” he muttered before swooning dramatically into a chair.

  “Do you need help?”

  “Yes. I need Advil, a chilled eye mask, and ginseng tea.”

  Movement caught Zander’s eye as Emmy climbed off the treadmill, and a moment later, she appeared next to him.

  “Bradley, what the hell happened? You’re dropping glitter everywhere.”

  “Paulo split with his boyfriend and decided to start his midlife crisis early.”

  “You’ve been dancing all night?”

  A whistle dropped out of Bradley’s pocket as he leaned down to pull his stilettos off. Fuck, the guy had blisters upon blisters. Huge red welts. How had he kept those shoes on for so long? More to the point, why had he worn them in the first place?

  “Shitting hell.” Emmy rolled her eyes. “If I carry you upstairs, will you puke?”

  “I already did that at Paulo’s.”

  “Fuck my life. Why didn’t you stay there and sleep?”

  “Because I need to do your make-up this morning. I promised.”

  “I can do my own make-up.”

  “Oh, please. You don’t know the difference between a smoky eye and a black eye.”

  “Yes, I do. Want me to demonstrate?”

  “I speak the truth. Stop being so touchy.”

  Emmy held out a hand. “Come on. Bed.”

  As she walked out of the room with Bradley over her shoulder in a fireman’s hold, Zander gave his head a little shake. Now he’d seen it all, and Emmy really did have a soft side.

  Despite Bradley’s hangover, Emmy appea
red downstairs at half past eight looking hotter than Zander would ever admit. Sort of a cross between a dominatrix and a socialite. Travis’s jaw dropped too, but he soon focused on Lanie again when Zander glared at him.

  “Okay, let’s go over the plan for today,” Emmy said. “We’re going to the recording studio, yes?”

  Travis nodded.

  “And the evening’s clear?”

  “There’s normally a party of some sort. At someone’s house, or a club.”

  “I’ve got a call at eight p.m. PDT that I can’t miss. We have to work that into the schedule, and everyone needs a debrief at the end of the day. Zander, I suggest you head into Blackwood’s LA office so you can watch what’s going on.”

  “Watch?”

  Emmy tapped her chunky metal necklace, her skull earring, and the studded handbag on the table next to her.

  “Cameras, baby, and I’m wired for sound too.”

  “Can I come?” Lanie asked.

  “You and Dove are staying here with Bradley. We’ve got a zillion cable channels, and he can get someone in to do spa treatments or whatever.”

  “No way! You think I want a freaking facial when all this stuff’s going on?”

  “Guess not. Well, you’re welcome to pace the lounge or comfort eat or sit and stare at the wall instead. And don’t even contemplate leaving. The security system monitors the perimeter, and if you set so much as one toe over the line, there’s a holding cell with your name on it.”

  “But—”

  “Lanie, Emmy’s right. Not about the holding cell, for fuck’s sake, but you need to stay here.”

  Lanie’s expression turned mutinous, but she didn’t argue. Good. Emmy was doing enough for them already without Lanie being difficult. And Zander was happy to be going to the LA office. From a professional point of view, he was curious to see how they worked, and being able to watch events unfold in real time was a bonus.

  Travis merely looked uncomfortable with the whole situation. Not surprising, really. He’d become the epicentre of chaos when all he wanted to do was sing.

  Two minutes in the surveillance room, and Zander realised why Emmy had insisted on Lanie staying at the house. She stayed businesslike in the car they took to the recording studio, but the instant she climbed out, she transformed into a giggly, vapid tart, all over Travis as they walked inside. Travis, for his part, looked shocked for a moment, but then he visibly pulled himself together, wrapped an arm around Emmy’s waist, and guided her through the door.