by Debra Jupe
“Okaaay.” Stephanie’s fingers clicked at her cell. “Take things at face value. You’ve been warned. Still, that doesn’t mean he can’t change or won’t change. And even if what Shane says is true, then be glad you got a real kiss from a hunky star. How many women get to do that in their lifetime?”
Darla yawned. “I suppose.” She pushed the covers back, scooted off the bed, and straightened the edge. “I don’t want to think about him anymore. I am so tired,” she grumbled. “I bet I won’t rest though, thanks to Mr. Boyd.” She glanced at Stephanie and almost smiled. “I believe I’m beginning to dislike men.”
Stephanie laughed. “Sometimes I do too. I think I’m writing off sleeping tonight and catching my z’s after the sun comes up.”
“You do whatever.” Darla moved to leave. “I’m going to bed and try to sleep.”
She’d barely left the room when Stephanie whispered a breathy, “Oh my.”
A sudden shock of fear swept through her. She cracked the door and peeked inside. From across the way, she met Stephanie’s gaze.
“This is so awful.”
Darla inhaled deep, clutching the jam. “Did they find the manager? Is he behind Drake’s death?”
Stephanie shook her head. “I just received a text from Blaine. Another of Raging Impulse’s members was shot.”
Her heart clenched, her immediate thoughts leaped to Eric. What if something happened to him? She couldn’t accept the idea of him being gone.
“Mitchell Young was discovered with a bullet wound in his head,” Stephanie whispered, her expression terrified. “The good news is, though, he’s still alive.”
A mental relief rushed through Darla, and then almost immediately guilt swallowed her. She shouldn’t focus her worries on Eric. Instead, she should be remorseful for their family. First Drake was dead and now Mitchell was injured.
“Does he say what happened?
Stephanie lifted her phone to read. “Sorry, I won’t be able to continue our conversation tonight. Just got the worst news as if anything else could be more awful than what’s already occurred tonight. Mitchell Young, Raging Impulse’s drummer, was found shot behind the ear at his house. The doctors haven’t released a lot of information except he is still alive, though barely. Gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Stephanie dropped her arm to her lap. “This is too strange. But I believe there’s something to what you were saying earlier. These occurrences have to be the work of an expert gunman, though I wonder why anyone would do this.”
“I don’t understand either.” Darla turned her gaze to her friend. “But I do have one fear.”
“Which is?”
“The band is being targeted. Someone is trying to eliminate the entire group. Maybe we need to stay away from them.”
Chapter 9
Eric grazed the tips his fingers over his forehead as he studied the computer screen. Brows drawn together, he looked away from the monitor to scan the mounds of legal documents strewn across the dining table. He selected a particular page to study, his eyes seesawing between the paper and the display.
“Find anything?”
He jerked his chin as Blaine entered the room. He gave his head a solid shake and flipped the sheet onto a pile, prompting pieces to scatter then float to the floor.
“My mind is numb from going through all this shit.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “These contracts are worded in a confusing way. I can’t make out what most of this crap means.”
Blaine picked up a stack of documents and after a glimpse, made a face. “I just got off the phone with our record company. They’re going to be emailing us our royalty information and some documents for us to sign to have any money we’re entitled to from past albums deposited into a new account.”
“That’s good, I guess.” Eric paused. “But I think we need to break down and hire a lawyer.”
Blaine turned back to Eric. “I hoped we could avoid doing that, but I guess it makes sense. We should keep everything nice and legal if we hope to get any of our money. I looked over my budget. I can make living expenses for a good while, but as far as funding this new band…” He shrugged.
“Yeah, I suppose we’re back to square one. Unless Shane wants to work pro bono, we may turn him loose till things get better.” Eric stretched in his chair. “His salary will have to go toward attorney’s fees. And I’m thinking we ought to consider hiring a private investigator too.”
Blaine dropped the paper. “Why would we want to do that?”
Eric fished into his pocket to remove his cigarette pack. “We need to track down Dugan.” He opened the top and studied the container before he spoke again. “The police will do what they can, but I can’t see their finding him a priority. In their eyes, the guy’s a two-bit druggie who likes to look at bad pictures. I don’t believe they suspect him in Drake’s death, even though I told them they needed to try and find him when they questioned me. The authorities are aware Dugan is associated with some less than desirable people who are connected enough to hide him, especially since he has access to our money and can pay them well.” He lifted one shoulder. “They’re not gonna put forth a lot of effort. Besides, I doubt if the police have the adequate resources to do much more than what’s already been done.”
“You’re probably right.” Blaine nodded. “What you’re suggesting is a good idea. I think that Finn will be on board. An attorney might provide us the name of a private eye.”
“Hey, brothers.”
Both men turned as Shane entered their home through the back door.
“I wanted to stop by and give you guys good news for once.”
“We certainly could use some.”
“I heard about Mitchell’s accident. It’s blaring from everywhere. Hope he’ll be okay. Really tough right after Drake dying.” Shane lumbered to the table and stopped. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and studied the stacks of paperwork. “What’s going on?”
“Long story.” Eric shifted in his chair. “Tell us the good news.”
“Right. I’m sure you remember I made a trip to the UK a couple of weeks ago. During my visit, I distributed your new tune to a few of the local radio stations and convinced them to play it. I didn’t want to tell you anything in case the experiment was a bust, but…” Shane smiled wide. “They’re going nuts for you guys over there. I just got word. “Eyes and Lies” is the top requested song for this week. You’re back.”
“Fantastic.” Blaine whirled a fist in the air. “This is great news.”
The men high fived and knuckle bumped. Despite all the sadness, Eric couldn’t help but grin, if only for a few minutes. They’d been hoping for a break like this. “No one knows we’re the artists, do they?”
Shane shook his head. “Not yet. We’ll let them in on things when the time is right. But we’re getting close. You need to consider returning to the UK for an extended stay. The wave is starting over there, that’s where you should be. We can begin by booking some of the smaller clubs and work our way up. I’m supposed to return to Scotland in a couple of days. I still got a child support issue with the ex. She’s hauling my ass back into court. I’m going to try and hang out with my kid, if she’ll let me. While I’m there, I also plan calling in a few favors with some more dj’s I’m acquainted with. I want your music on the air. Once we get things moving across the ocean, we can hit the stations in the US, and then you can come back here if you choose.”
“That’s great Shane, except we have a problem.” Blaine motioned over to the heaps of paper on the table.
Shane placed his palms over his ears. “No. I don’t want to hear about any problems.”
“But we’ve got one. And it’s a biggie.”
He dropped his hands. “Go.”
“We’ve discovered Dugan embezzled all our money. We’re basically broke and we can’t continue funding our plan.”
“No shit.” Shane gave them a disbelieving stare. “We must find a way. We’re on the verge of becoming something
big. I feel it.”
“I’m with Shane,” Eric agreed. “We’re too close to stop. Still, I can’t see how we’ll be able to continue without money.”
Shane held his palms in front of him. “Minor setback. We can deal with this. Don’t make any kind of decision yet. Let me brainstorm, call some contacts, and see what I come up with.”
“But we can’t pay you,” Blaine repeated vehemently.
“Worry about that later.” Shane headed for the door. “I’ll talk to you guys when I get back.”
“Man, that’s the best news we’ve gotten in a long while.” Eric extended his arms over his head. “And I’d like to revel in this joy for a bit, but we need to focus on our many complications starting with locating a good attorney.”
“Finn probably knows someone. He’s been in enough trouble. Which by the way, he’s already called me twice. Richard once. They’ve tried to phone you too. I wish you’d turn your fuckin’ cell on. You always keep it off.”
Eric gave him a crafty grin. “We’ll talk to Finn at our meeting tonight. We should check on Mitchell too. Damn, this is got to be tough on their family.” He paused. “This is too damn hard, but we’ve got to form a plan quickly. One of us ought to contact Drake’s wife on our behalf. I’m assuming she’ll inherit Drake’s portion. If we gain anything, she’ll have a say in what we do.” Eric didn’t want to get further into a deeper conversation about his friend’s passing or Mitchell’s situation, yet it was disrespectful to glide over the incidents to only discuss the financial aspects. “I’m wondering when would be the right time for us to approach the relatives.”
“They’re probably messed up pretty bad after this. Drake and his wife waited a long while to marry and Mitchell—man, this is hard for me to talk about too.”
“I’m not doing great myself.” Eric removed a cigarette out of the box and rolled it between his fingers. “I’ve known Drake since my first year of college. I met Mitchell not long after. We played together for, what, three years before we became famous. I considered them both more like my brothers than friends.”
“I’m the same way.” Blaine looked past Eric through the bay window located behind him. He stared out at the ocean for several seconds. “What time are we supposed to get together with Finn?”
“He wants us at there by eight. He says he’s got a party to go to, and it starts around midnight. Also, he’s meeting friends for drinks at ten, so we need to be finished by then.” Eric gave a cynical smile. “Hell of a way of grieving a friend’s death. I hope that asshole brother of his is already gone. You think we oughta take the car over to his place or is walking okay with you?”
Eric preferred to go on foot. Finn’s neighborhood was several blocks away and not in the best area, but the distance wasn’t too far. He’d rather be outdoors. Plus, he needed a shit-load of fresh air before and after he “enjoyed” Finn’s company again. They may have formed an uneasy truce because of their mutual predicament. But they were hardly friends.
“What are we doing?” Eric paused. “Car or walk?”
“I’ll meet you at Finn’s.”
Eric’s brows dipped.
Blaine kept his voice calm. “I’m not going with you to Finn’s house. I phoned Stephanie this morning. We’re getting together for dinner tonight.”
“You made a date?” Eric’s eyes narrowed. “How can you even think about a woman after everything that’s happened these past few hours? You knew we had a meeting, and you’re well aware what’s at stake.”
“I am. But I need a break from this crazy shit. I’m about to go insane. If anything else happens to us, I will. I like Stephanie. Because of this crap going down, I don’t think I’ll get more than an evening or two to take her out, plus I’m afraid if I’m with her too much, I’ll put her in danger. I’m spending what little time I have with her. Maybe I’ll feel normal for a few minutes.”
Eric chuckled sardonically. “Normal. Do you even know what that is?”
“Don’t worry. It’s only dinner. We’ll make this an early night. I’ll be at Finn’s by eight.”
Eric fumed as he shoved away from the table and sprang to his feet. “I need a smoke.”
He withdrew his disposable lighter from his pants pocket and was clicking as he stepped outdoors. He held the cigarette between his lips, then lifted the fire to the end. After taking several drags, he sat down on the top step to rest on the small weathered porch as he regarded the azure sea.
Today was a gorgeous spring day. The sun shone bright, a light breeze carried a sultry heat making the morning almost hot. Gulls dived gracefully to skim the tops of the swells in efforts of catching their next meal. Usually, the tranquil sights gave him a sense of peace, but today even the water’s hypnotic lull didn’t do anything for him.
While recent events weighed heavy on his mind, he was unexplainably pissed at Blaine. Eric understood his motives. Yet—he was jealous. Probably because he’d never gotten the chance to rid himself of his need for Darla Hennessy.
The news of Mitchell’s injury only put his urges farther on the backburner, though his want for her had by no means disappeared. This made him wonder what kind of person he was. Thinking about a woman instead of focusing on his friend’s dire predicament. But hard as he tried, he couldn’t control his brain. The idea of finding a replacement to take care of his physical necessities was still appealing. Then he’d be able to concentrate on his grief and search for their lost fortune.
Maybe he’d join Finn tonight. Find someone at his party. If not, he had other options. One thing for sure. He wouldn’t be looking for her. He stared down the way at her empty deck, resisting the impulse to leap from the step, run down the beach, knock on her door, and kiss her again. He ground his cigarette into the dirt of a nearby flower pot whose plant had seen better days. Nope, he was done with her. He stood up to go back inside.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” said a soft southern drawl from the side of the deck. “Any news on his condition?”
Eric flinched before he glanced down. “What are you doing here? You’re—”
Darla held up a palm. “I’ve walked this route every morning since I moved by the water.”
He took in her sweat pants and tank top as he scanned the mass of curls she’d unsuccessfully attempted to tie back, flowing in the wind. The sight of her all messy and pretty stirred a tingle of excitement in his lower gut that whirled into a sphere of pleasure, instantly blowing up like a balloon. It took every scrap of willpower not to jump over the side of the rail and wrap her in his arms.
“I’ve never noticed you walking this way.” Eric was careful to keep his tone even, uninterested as he tried to reel in his elation over her appearance.
“So because you haven’t seen me means I’m not on this trail daily?” She gave him a smug grin. “Seriously. Are you normally awake at this hour?”
Eric swiped a quick glance at his watch. It was early in the morning. Damn, she had him. A tremor of disappointment vibrated in his chest. A part of him wanted her to be passing his house because of him.
His licked his lips and answered a quiet, “No.”
“I suppose now is about bedtime for you. I’ll let you get some sleep.” She lifted a hand, giving a small wave before she moved down the shoreline. “Again, I hope the best for your friend.”
He paused a second before he yelled, “Wait.”
She came to an abrupt halt and spun to face him. She stayed. So now what? To give himself a moment, he bound down the stairs, then rushed to where she stood.
“Last night.” He motioned toward the area where they’d shared their kiss. “Here. On the beach.”
“This morning,” she corrected. “You’re referring to what occurred here this morning.”
He shot her an irritated glare. Ms. Smarty was almost annoying today. But he guessed he had it coming.
“Right.” Eric thrust his hands into his pockets. “I want you to understand, I was upset from many things and I lost control.
I didn’t mean to kiss you, it just—happened. Sorry.”
“Oh, okay, I get it.” Darla’s mouth twisted into an ironic smile. “You must have caught me on an off night too. The evening was crazy or it might’ve been the full moon.”
“Was there a moon?”
She shrugged carelessly. “Also, I want to make sure you’re aware in normal circumstances when someone invades my space uninvited, I tend to put a knee to the groin area.”
“I’m glad last night wasn’t normal circumstances,” he muttered.
“No matter. There’s not a need for us to concern ourselves over what happened. It was just a kiss, right? We don’t know each other, but if you’re worried, let me assure you I’m not one of those women who stalk guys over something so trivial. In fact, I’m leaving town for a while.” She twirled around to walk home. “So, no worries.”
She was going away. He watched her hair bounce with each confident step as she strolled away. His eyes dropped to view the natural swing in her cute, round butt. He swallowed. Because of his money situation he might not be able to stay in his house. He may never see her again.
“Where are you going?” he shouted above the wind. “On your trip.”
“Texas. To visit my family,” she called over her shoulder.
“You’re from Texas?”
“Born and raised.” She gave another small wave as she walked. “Have a nice life, Eric Boyd.”
“Hey, you know what?”
She spun to face him, slowly striding backwards.
“Regardless of the circumstances, the kiss was a pretty damn good one.”
Darla smiled. “It wasn’t awful.” She laughed and turned to continue down the beach until she was home. She jogged up the steps and gave him a quick glance before she disappeared inside.
Eric stared. What the hell just happened? He’d lost control. Not physically, not yet, but somewhere in the span of these last five minutes, she’d managed to gain the mental command between them. And he explained to her why he kissed her?
He was in trouble with this one. Big trouble.