Bruce had been killed hours ago. Shot.
And he’d been trying to guard me.
My vision blurred. I blinked hard and looked at the floor.
“Come on.” Mom nudged my arm. “We’re all meeting in my dressing room.”
Mick and Wendell flanked her as she walked away.
Usually we don’t have to be so careful backstage. It’s a heavily guarded area anyway. But tonight nothing was the same.
Kim and I followed Mom down a long hall to her dressing room. Morrey, Kim’s boyfriend and Rayne’s drummer, caught up with us. He put a tattoo-covered arm around Kim, her head only reaching his shoulders. Morrey looked at me and winked, but I saw no happiness in it.
Ross Blanke, the band’s tour production manager, hustled up to us, along with Stan, lead guitarist, and Rich, Rayne’s bass player. “Hey.” Ross put a pudgy hand on Mom’s shoulder. “You’re doing great.” He waved an arm. “All of you, you’re doing just great.”
“You do what you have to,” Stan said grimly. His black face shone with sweat.
We all trudged into the dressing room. Mick and Wendell took up places on each side of the door.
Marshall, the makeup and hair stylist, started handing out water bottles. In his thirties, Marshall has buggy eyes and curly dark hair. His fingers are long and narrow, and he’s great with his makeup tools. But until two days ago, he’d been second to Mom’s main stylist, Tom.
“Thanks.” I took a bottle from Marshall and tried to smile. Didn’t work. Just looking at him made me sad, because his presence reminded me of Tom’s absence.
Tom, my closest friend on tour, had been murdered two days ago.
Mom, Ross, Rich, and I sank down on the blue couch — one of the furniture pieces Mom requested in every dressing room. This one was extra large, with a high back and thick arms. To our left stood a table with lots of catered food, but no one was hungry. I’d hardly eaten in the last day and a half and knew I should have something. But no way, not now.
Stan, Morrey, and Kim drew up chairs to form a circle.
“All right.” Ross sat with his short, fat legs apart, hands on his thighs. The huge diamond ring on his right hand was turned to one side. He straightened it with his pinky finger. “I’ve checked outside past the guarded area. The zoo’s double what it usually is. The news has already hit, and every reporter and his brother is waiting for us. Some paparazzi are already there, and others have probably hopped planes and will show up by the time we leave.”
Is Cat here? I shuddered. The slinky-looking photographer had pulled a fire alarm in our San Jose hotel the night before just to force us out of our rooms. The police told him not to get within five hundred feet of us. Like he’d care.
My eyes burned, and I was so tired. I slumped down in the couch and laid my head back.
Ross ran a hand through his scraggly brown hair. “Fans out there are gonna be talking about what they heard on the news before the concert. Rayne, you should say something about it.”
“Yeah.” Mom sighed.
Rich frowned. He was moving his shaved head side to side, stretching his neck. His piercing gray eyes looked my way, and his face softened. I looked away.
Everyone was being so nice. Still, it was hard to know three people had died because of me.
Ross scratched his chin. “We got extra coverage from Denver police at the hotel tonight. Tomorrow we head for Albuquerque. It’s close enough for Vance to drive the main bus without a switch-off driver, and the next two venues are close too. But we’ve all been through a lot. Can you guys keep performing?” He looked around, eyebrows raised.
“Man.” Morrey raked back his shoulder-length black hair. “If three deaths in two days isn’t enough to make us quit …” His full lips pressed together.
I glanced hopefully at Mom. Yeah, let’s go home! I could sleep in my own bed, hide from the paparazzi and reporters, hang out with my best friend, Brittany
But canceling concerts would mean losing a lot of money. The Rayne tour was supposed to continue another four weeks.
Mom leaned forward, elbows on her knees and one hand to her cheek. Her long red fingernails matched the color of her lips. “I almost lost my daughter tonight.” Her voice was tight. “I don’t care if I never tour again — Shaley’s got to be protected. That’s the number one thing.”
I want you protected too, Mom.
“Absolutely,” Morrey said, “but at least the threat to Shaley is gone now that Jerry’s dead.
Kim spread her hands. “I don’t know what to say. I’m still reeling. We barely had time to talk about any of this tonight before getting onstage. I feel like my mind’s gonna explode. And Tom …”
She teared up, and that made me cry. Kim had been like a mother to Tom. Crazy, funny Tom. It was just so hard to believe he was gone.
I wiped my eyes and looked at my lap.
“Anyway.” Kim steadied her voice. “It’s so much to deal with. I don’t know how we’re going to keep up this pace for another month.”
Mom looked at Ross. “We can’t keep going very long with only Vance to drive the main bus.”
Ross nodded. “Until Thursday. I’d have to replace him by then.”
“With who?” Mom’s voice edged.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to jump on it.”
“You can’t just ‘jump on it.’ We need time to thoroughly check the new driver out.”
“Rayne.” Ross threw her a look. “I did check Jerry out. Completely. He had a false ID, remember? That’s what the police said. I couldn’t have known that.”
“You might have known if you’d checked harder.”
Ross’s face flushed. “I did — “
“No you didn’t! Or if you did it wasn’t good enough!” Mom pushed to her feet and paced a few steps. “Something’s mighty wrong if we can’t even find out a guy’s a convicted felon!”
What? I stiffened. “How do you know that?”
Mom waved a hand in the air. “The police told me just before we left the hotel.”
I stared at Mom. “When was he in prison?”
Mom threw a hard look at Ross. “He’d barely gotten out when we hired him.”
Heat flushed through my veins. I snapped my gaze toward the floor. Jerry’s last words rang in my head. Your father sent me.
My father had purposely sent someone who’d been in prison?
About the Author
Brandilyn Collins, known for her trademark Seatbelt Suspense™, is the bestselling author of Violet Dawn, Coral Moon, Crimson Eve, Eyes of Elisha, and other novels.
Amberly Collins is a college student in Long Beach, California. Mother and daughter love attending concerts together.
Visit Brandilyn’s website at www.brandilyncollins.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
ZONDERVAN
Always Watching
Copyright © 2009 by Brandilyn Collins
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.
EPub Edition © JULY 2011 ISBN: 978-0-310-57841-3
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Collins, Brandilyn.
Always watching / by Brandilyn and Amberly Collins.
p. cm. — (Rayne Tour series ; bk. 1)
Summary: When a frightening murder occurs after one of her famous mother’s rock conc
erts, sixteen-year-old Shayley tries to help the police find the killer and to determine whether her long-lost father has some connection to the crime.
ISBN 978-0-310-71539-9 (softcover)
[1. Murder—Fiction. 2. Single-parent families—Fiction. 3. Rock groups—Fiction. 4. Fame—Fiction. 5. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Collins, Amberly. II. Title.
PZ7.C692Al 2009
[Fic]—dc22 2008039515
* * *
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other — except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, Colorado, 80920, www.alivecommunications.com.
Interior design by Christine Orejuela-Winkelman
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