He continued, “There is one other eerie similarity apart from the looks of all three girls. Daria loved music. Wanted to be a rock singer. She worshipped Marigold. So, now, small things each of the girls had in common have now become important because Arianna Prentice is missing.”
I tried to pick up a newly poured cup of tea but my hand was shaking so badly I was forced to set it down before it spilled. “We have a serial . . . kidnapper, don’t we? There’s some maniac out there grabbing petite blonde sopranos in their late teens or early twenties. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes and no. After the disappearances of Marigold and Daria, no other girls were reported missing in this area for ten years. Until last night.”
The implication was too strong to ignore and too shocking to contemplate. The person responsible for Marigold and Daria going missing was also responsible for Arianna’s disappearance. The scary thing was that this creep had most probably not been in Georgetown for the last ten years. Which meant he could well be one of the men sitting at this very table. Clifford Black had voiced a similar thought to me the other night I hadn’t wanted to believe it ten years ago. I still didn’t.
Junie quietly asked, “Where are you searching, Detective?”
“Everywhere, ma’am. And please, it’s Reece.”
He hadn’t suggested any of the rest of the group call him by his given name. Junie blushed, and then stated, “It’s Junie—Reece. Not ma’am.”
The detective gifted us with the first honestly cheerful smile I had seen since I’d come downstairs. He checked his watch and said, “I’m off to visit Dusty Sears. Please, everyone, don’t hesitate to call me if you recall something, no matter how insignificant it might seem to you. Small details end up saving lives and solving crimes. And we could use your help if you want to come to campus once it’s light. There’ll be a general search party for Arianna starting in the parking lot of the Palace.”
Jorge escorted the detective toward the front entrance of Junie’s house before returning to pour more tea and coffee for the rest of the crowd at the table. We all sat in silence and avoided looking directly at anyone else.
Finally Stone scraped his chair away from the table. “I’m going home and get a little sleep. Then I’m heading over to the Palace to see if I can help with the search. Bye, y’all.”
He was gone before anyone could respond. Cam stood. “Good idea. I’m going to try and grab a nap too, then I’ll do what I can this afternoon. Bebe. See you tonight at Round Rock. We’ve booked a session to do some practicing and decision making for the new Pieces Together. Get some rest and call if you need a ride.”
“What?” I demanded, shocked.
“Round Rock. Remember? Manny’s Mixes. We don’t have a rehearsal for the dance, which is why we managed to cram this studio time in for tonight. They’re renovating and liked the idea of having us come in and use the space to rehearse. We’ll use them for the actual recording once that’s underway. We got a great deal since most folks don’t need the place to rehearse.”
I glared at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Have you gone off the proverbial reservation? There’s a girl missing and you’re rattling on about a stupid cd. It’s going to sound like garbage anyway without Marigold. Why don’t you just go flippin’ record with Lucifer and any devils who care to harmonize when they’re not snatching girls!”
Nic reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Bebe. Calm down. I hate to say it, but Cam’s right. We’ll help with the search party but there’s not much else we can do. It’s not going to make Arianna turn up any faster if we sit around and brood. Making music is now our challenge sent out to the world. It’s a slap against the creep who’s doing this. Prove to him we’re not beaten and not one of those girls has been forgotten.”
“Great sentiments and very rah-rah let’s fight for liberty and justice and the American way. So why does it feel stinkin’ lousy and downright wrong to sing?” I shouted. “I hate this!”
Nic and Cam glanced at one another. Nic suggested, “Why don’t we postpone practice for another night? We’ll all be helping with the search tomorrow so maybe Bebe is right and studio time is not the greatest plan after a sleepless night and what promises to be a long day.”
I sniffed and sighed in relief. “Good. It’ll give me some time to decide what I need to do.”
The men gave Junie quick hugs on their way to the kitchen exit of the Blume house. Junie and I stayed at the table in silence. Then Junie slammed her teacup down so hard the cup shattered. She stared at me, ignoring the broken bits of china and the hot liquid scalding the antique table. “I hate to say it, but Nic is right about working on the album, Bebe. Call me melodramatic and trite and as you say, rah-rah fighting, but . . . please do this. I’m more than willing to front the recording and II have the money to do it. So, go make wonderful music. For Marigold and for Daria and heaven help usfor Arianna.”
Chapter 10
Late May in South Central Texas can be an eclectic mix of weather systems. Heat and humidity are standard fare, but violent thunderstorms are common and tornados not unheard of. Occasionally Providence relents and offers Texans a perfect spring day, complete with blue skies and comfortable temperatures. This particular day was one of them. In many ways it was worse than if the rain had been beating everyone in the face. The sunshine seemed like an insult to both the searchers and the vanished.
Arianna Prentice was missing on this perfect day. She should be out at the lake showing off a new bathing suit and some great diving moves. She should be devouring a double dip chocolate cone at the Dairy Barn or sunning herself on the lawn in front of the Student Union building with a copy of the latest bestselling romance in hand. She should be practicing her singing outside the music school with earplugs and an Mp3 player providing accompaniment. I couldn’t stop wondering whether sightless eyes now gazed up at a perfect sky. I shuddered. I was getting nowhere with those thoughts and making myself crazy thinking them.
I had spent the last two hours poking through every hidey-hole I’d remembered existing on the Southwestern campus and I’d found nothing. There was no trace of Arianna. I felt useless and antsy. I’d been retracing steps other searchers had taken since around three last night, starting at the Palace Theater and working north toward campus.
“I’ve had it. Enough.”
“What?”
Nic materialized from behind a dumpster in back of the music department’s main building. He was so filthy it appeared he might have actually been inside the dumpster at some point. A fact that didn’t deter me from wishing he’d just grab me and head for the nearest private space. “Enough of . . .?” he inquired.
“This search. At least in this area. I don’t believe Arianna Prentice is anywhere on campus. Just like I was always sure neither Marigold nor Daria were here. I heard downtown has been thoroughly covered by cops and volunteers since last night and they haven’t turned up a single clue.”
“So any other ideas?”
I shook my head. “Honestly? I’ll bet all three girls were carted out of here in a car. I mean, I hate to say this,but there’s the Blue Hole Park. Easy to abduct someone, take them there and drown them in the lagoon. I don’t want to imagine anything so horrific but it’s the most logical scenario. What might even be worse is this vision I can’t seem to erase of the girls being driven out, heading south across the border and . . . well, no need to expound about the popularity of blonde-haired, blue eyed, cute co-eds in certain portions of Mexico. Hell, make that everywhere on the planet.” I swallowed and found it hard to speak. “Nic, the search is a bust. The Palace Theatre has been combed more carefully than a celebrity’s hair after a day at the stylist’s and there’s been no clues left behind. The only way someone could have managed to make any of the girls vanish so completely is by transporting them elsewhere.”
“Bebe, I’ve always said you were brilliant as well as beautiful so don’t take offense, but exactly how did our pe
rpetrator manage this trick without being noticed? You can’t stuff a wildcat like Marigold into a car without some protest unless you managed to render her unconscious. I pity the lunatic who ever tried to make Marigold do anything she didn’t want to do.”
I took a deep breath. “Drugs? Or the simple and most plausible, yet worst answer . . . being someone Marigold, Daria and Arianna felt safe enough to go off with.” Such asone of the band members or the band manager or a close friend of said band member or manager. I did not state my last thoughts aloud. I didn’t need to. I was fairly sure Nic was reading my mind and imagining what I was.
Nic sank down on the ground.
I sank down on a tree stump next to him and rapidly blinked back tears. “They’ll never be found.”
“Hon, please don’t even go there. It’s true the odds are strong we’ll never find out what happened to Marigold and to Daria but Arianna’s only been gone a few hours. There’s hope. Giving up isn’t an option. I won’t go into those rah-rah speeches again, but I refuse to say ‘this is it’ until there’s proof all hope is gone.”
I stood up again. “Sounds plucky and brave and terrific and I do thank you for being optimistic but I’m so tired I wouldn’t recognize a clue if I fell over one or one smacked me in the jaw, preferably by Arianna herself, so I’m going home. Back to Junie’s, although Jersey is sounding better and better. For two cents I’d blow off doing the cd and this dance. At any rate, it’spointless going over the same ground. The police are searching the woods. Half the kids who haven’t taken off for summer break are searching around the campus. The police are also still checking everywhere in Georgetown for a possible hiding place for a serialkidnapper.” I couldn’t say “killer”. Couldn’t let the word escape my lips. Not yet. “I’m not doing any good here. I’m going to go work on the songs Marigold left. If we actually finish the record, I think the last three songs will be a real tribute to Marigold.”
Nic looked up at me. For the first time this day a glimmer of something other than worry showed in his eyes. “Are they good?”
“Oh yeah. Brilliant is more like it. She was making your old buddy Lord Byron look like a third-grader with some of her imagery. I don’t understand half of what she was trying to say especially in one of them because it’s beyond enigmatic, mystical and obtuse, but . . . the lyrics are beyond terrific. I only hope I can do justice with the melodies.”
“You will. You always have. And you’ll be especially creative because you feel you owe it to Marigold. I do remember your loyalty to her even when she wasn’t as loyal to you.” He paused and I nearly asked, “Like the night she either triedor succeeded in seducing you?” but again I kept silent.
Nic continued, “Lyrics. Such as?”
I managed to say, “Nope. You’re going to have to wait ‘til my musical juices flow and lilting and marvelous tunes come tumbling out of me. I will say though, one song she called Chasm will be different from anything we’ve ever done. Both words and music.”
“So this will remain Bebe’s big secret?”
I tossed my hair back and tilted my nose into the air. “Yep.”
“Can’t pry anything out of you with champagne and chocolate? Or maybe a spread from Freddy’s Steakhouse?”
Freddy’s had always been Pieces’ favorite diner. I started to salivate, envisioning one of Freddy’s rib-eye steaks, grilled alongside a loaded potato, corn fresh on the cob and homemade buttermilk biscuits. Heaps of fried food loaded with cholesterol-cloggers and heavenly taste. Finishing the meal would be coconut cream pie topped with a huge dollop of real whipped cream. I shook off the vision but I could almost smell each every bite on an invisible plate.
I stood firm. “Nope. Not even for Freddy’s although I’d say it’s vital the band makes a pilgrimage before the week is over. Maybe after we wrap up the cd?”
He grinned at me as little flutters took wing inside my stomach and they had nothing to do with food. “You’re on. With or without the other band members.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Preferably without. We need some real alone time, Bebe,” he said.
We stared at each other. I wasn’t yet ready for alone time. I exhaled. “I need to go.”
Nic rose and let me off the hook, although his jaw set and the corners of his mouth turned downward. “Well, I suppose if my charm won’t persuade you to part with the scoop on the songs, I’ll take off too. Want a ride to Junie’s if I promise to keep the conversation light and inane? Talk of naught but music trivia?”
I smiled. “Thanks, but no. Junie lent me her ancient convertible and I must admit, even with all this horror crashing around us, I’ve been blissfully happy driving it around, top down, hair blowing and getting tangled, and of course keeping the radio cranked to the max listening to the Austin rock stations. I love it. It reminds me of your old SUV. The colorless classic.”
The instant I mentioned the SUV I wanted to take my comment back. Nic gazed at me without saying a word and I knew his memories were in sync with mine. They should be. We’d made those memories together.
I flashed back to early May, ten years ago. Pieces had been playing a gig down at The Capitol Club in Austin. Nic had added Capitol Club’s logo sticker to the fifty or more already decorating his grayish SUV. The whole band had been pretty jazzed after our last set, but only Nic and I had had the energy to take off and ride into the night.
We’d stopped at a twenty-four hour grocery store for junk food and wine. We’d found a good rock station on the radio in Nic’s battered old SUV and cranked up the volume as we headed for Lake Travis, trying to ignore all the bumps and dips from the dirt tracks. I could still feel the wind blowing through the vehicle and the touch of frost, which had been bizarre for Austin in late spring.
We’d found a spot near the lake, parked, and then pulled out the quilt Nic used to wrap his cymbals and spread it on the ground. We shared chocolate cream cakes and crackers and cheese spreads and chips and French bread and chocolate candy bars and a surprisingly decent white wine in honor of my recent status as a legal eighteen-year old.
“Are you happy in Pieces?” Nic had asked.
I’d sat up straight, startled. “Yes, of course. Why? Do I not seem happy?”
“You seem wonderful. But things have been crazy lately. Primarily with Marigold and how horribly she’s been treating everyone, including you, even though you’ve always been her pet.”
“She has been weird, hasn’t she? What’s up? Any clue?”
Nic had shrugged before taking a swig of soda. “Marigold and I have been friends for five years now. I’ve seen her go through at least twenty guys on an annual basis without batting an eyelash or exhibiting an ounce of shame regarding the string of miserable males and their broken hearts. I’ve seen her so drunk she couldn’t focus for three days. I watched her pull herself together over the last year and a half, stop using weed and coke, be smart enough to make you part of the band, get engaged to Cam, and act like a semi-normal person. And I’ve witnessed her falling apart again yet I haven’t a clue as to what’s going on. I’ve asked her why she’s being so nasty and all she says, is ‘in the music, Nicky boy, it’s all in the music.’ Now what the hell does that mean?”
“Hopefully, it’s just Marigold being super cryptic. But I’m clueless about her behavior or what she’s thinking. I’ll tell you something, though. I have no intention of letting Pieces fall apart merely because Marigold is having prima donna fits. I’m sure she’ll get over it. Meantime, I’m going to ask Junie if she and Marigold have had any mother/daughter talks where Marigold might have explained why she’s gone loony.”
“They’re usually pretty close. Just do it soon.” Nic had smiled at me. “Bebe, I may be about to graduate this summer with my hard-earned law degree, but I still have dreams of the band touring the world and winning Grammys and hitting platinum and gold with each successive album. And Pieces is good enough to do it. I don’t want anything sabotaged by wacky behavior, which happens all
too often to a lot of bands. I also want to sayand don’t tell Marigold because she’d shoot meyou’re the one who’s made all the difference. Your sound is so warm and rich and just plain awesome. “His voice had lowered, adding a husky sound to the richness. “You’ve made all the difference to me, too on a very personal level. Plus, I’m so glad you’re finally eighteen and I don’t have to feel like some sort of pervert every time I want to kiss you!”
He’d kissed me then. He let his hands comb through my wind-tangled hair and I let mine roam across his strong back and up through his wild curly hair. We’d called a halt to watch the sunrise and, in deference to my still chaste status, headed back to our separate rooms at the cheap motel in Austin where Pieces was staying the night.
We’d arrived just in time to witness Marigold exiting a room. It wasn’t the one she and I were sharing, and it wasn’t the one Cam and Nic were sharing. It was Dusty and Glenn’s.
Marigold had smiled at Nic and me. It was not a nice smile. “D’ja enjoy yourselves, kiddies?”
Nic stared at her. “Yes. You?”
“You have no idea how much.” She’d glanced at me and her words degenerated into snide and rude. “Then again, maybe you do now. Although, Nicky, honey, I’m sure I have a few more moves than your baby girl here.”
Nic and I had been carrying an exuberant spirit with us throughout the night. It extinguished like a candle in a storm. Nic and Marigold had dated before I had met either one. I wasn’t happy about it, but could live with it if it wasn’t thrown in my face. After all, I hadn’t known him back then. He’d been a free agent. But why Marigold was choosing to broadcast her past and present affairs was beyond my comprehension. It was as though she wanted everyone to despise her. I stared at my friend as the revelation hit me, “As she so clearly despises herself.”
I brought my mind back to the present and glanced at Nic who was gazing at me from his spot by the tree stump. I was certain his thoughts had mirrored mine. Frown lines furrowed his brow, but his words kept the focus on Marigold and not his feelings about me respecting my desire to skip any personal discussions until I was ready. “Bebe, something was eating away at her. At her mind. Her spirit.”
Pick up the Pieces Page 6