Ravensong

by ML Hamilton

  Hiding the vial in his hand, he swung the backpack to his shoulder and shoved his way through the people, muttering apologies. They grumbled angry comments in return, but let him pass and soon he was in the open part of the terminal. He chanced a glance at the police.

  They were staring back at him, alerted to his sudden movement. Joshua lowered his head and hurried to the bathroom door, resisting the impulse to run. He couldn’t allow them to stop him before he made it inside. He couldn’t be found with this vial.

  Slamming the door open, he hesitated inside and searched around for a stall with a door he could lock. He pushed past another man leaving the bathroom and threw open the stall door. He shoved the door shut and slid the bolt to lock it, then turned and threw the vial into the toilet. Pressing the handle, he watched the water flood into the bowl, sucking the vial down into the drain. Bracing his hand on the top of the toilet, he tried to still his rapid breathing and brushed the sweat off his upper lip.

  Then he became aware of the black utility shoes waiting beyond the door of his stall. Joshua knew what that meant. Closing his eyes, he leaned over the bowl and forced himself to be sick. He knew it was a desperate attempt to save himself, but he had to try something.

  Pressing the handle again, he tried to compose himself and turned, reaching for the bolt. His hand shook as he pulled it back and opened the door. Two men in black suits were waiting for him outside, but Joshua pushed between them and walked to the sink. Setting the backpack on the floor by his feet, he turned the water on and bent over, rinsing his mouth and pressing the cold water to his aching jaw.

  The black shoes stopped beneath him and a hand reached down to pick up the backpack. Joshua braced himself on the sink and turned the water off, then he looked up into the officer’s face.

  “Joshua Ravensong?” the officer asked.

  Joshua nodded.

  “Come with us please.”

  Joshua reached for a towel, hoping they wouldn’t notice how his hands shook, and dried off his face, then he turned and threw it in the waste basket, moving toward the door with them right on his heels.

  The band was waiting outside when he left the bathroom, but he only had time to glance at them before one of the officers pushed him in the back. One moved in front of him and led the way to the end of the terminal and to a door. The door opened on a white tiled hallway and they passed many closed doors until they came to one with a glass window in it. Joshua could see holding cells and a number of people sitting behind desks, watching monitors.

  The officer in front of him opened the door, motioning him through. A few people looked up at him in interest, but Joshua could only stare at the cells. Would they put him in one? What about his backpack? Was there anything else in the backpack that he didn’t know about?

  The officer behind him pushed him away from the cells and to another hallway. He followed them to a white room with another window in the door and walked inside. The only furniture was a stainless steel table and two chairs. The taller of the officers motioned toward one of the chairs and tossed the backpack on the table.

  “Sit down, Ravensong,” he ordered.

  Joshua sank into the seat, clasping his hands under the table.

  The other officer moved behind him, pulling up the chair and taking a seat right at Joshua’s back. Joshua tried to keep him in his line of sight, but he was too close. He could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

  “I’m Officer Baker and that’s Officer Thompson.”

  Joshua could only nod. He knew he should probably take control of this situation somehow, but he was too damn scared. What if they had him on tape? Should he ask for a lawyer? Would that be an admission of guilt?

  “You want to tell us what’s going on,” said Baker.

  Joshua looked up at him, his mind frantically trying to find the composure he needed to seem normal. “What do you mean? I’m not sure why I’m here.”

  Baker’s eyes shifted behind him to the other officer.

  “You left the line rather suddenly, didn’t you?” said Thompson in his ear.

  Joshua hunched his shoulders. He didn’t like having this guy at his back, but he knew they were trying to intimidate him. And damn was it working. “I didn’t feel well,” he said. “I must have eaten something bad.”

  Baker scratched at his chin. “Really?” He lowered his hand and curled it in the top of the backpack. Without a word, he tipped it over and poured the contents onto the table.

  Joshua’s eyes fixed on it in alarm, paralyzed by the fear of what might spill out.

  “Mind if we look in your bag?” said Baker.

  Joshua couldn’t respond. He watched Baker push aside his t-shirt and jeans, then lift the notebook. He turned a few pages, then dropped it on the clothes. He reached for the backpack again and started opening the other zippered compartments.

  “What about your pockets? Anything in there?” said Thompson behind him.

  Joshua shook his head, his eyes riveted on Baker.

  “Roll up your sleeves for us,” said Thompson.

  Joshua tried to turn and see him, but all he could see was Thompson’s chin. He was that close. He opened his mouth to respond, but the door slammed open and Julian appeared in the entry.

  “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. “I have a band to put on a plane and you detain my lead singer.”

  Another officer moved into the doorway behind Julian. “Sorry, Chuck,” he said to Baker. “Says he’s the lawyer.”

  Baker lifted a brow, then turned to Joshua. “He your lawyer?”

  Joshua nodded, even though he wasn’t sure Julian had passed the bar. He knew he’d taken a number of law classes, but he didn’t even know if he’d gotten a degree or not. Baker shrugged at the officer in the door and the officer left.

  Julian advanced into the room.

  “What happened to your face?” purred Thompson behind him.

  “What’s he being held for?” Julian demanded. “It had better be damn good or I swear I’ll sue.”

  “We’re waiting for him to tell us. He jumped out of line rather suspiciously and raced to the bathroom…”

  “I told you I was sick,” snapped Joshua. He really hated the feel of Thompson so close behind him. The man now had one arm on the back of Joshua’s chair and the other on the table beside him.

  “That seems a reasonable explanation,” said Julian. His eyes lowered to the backpack. “Did he give you permission to search that?”

  Baker gave Joshua an amused look. “Yeah, he did.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Thompson plucked at the sleeve of Joshua’s shirt. “But he gave us permission to search him, didn’t you? Pull up your sleeve.”

  “No,” said Julian, rounding on him. “Don’t give them permission to do anything.”

  “If he’s got nothing to hide, he should be willing to show us,” said Thompson. He brushed Joshua’s hair off his shoulder. Joshua tried to lean away from him. “Right? If you’re innocent, you’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “Innocent?” said Julian, reaching up and removing his glasses. “What are you accusing him of doing?”

  “Nothing, right, Pat? We just wondered what happened. That’s all,” said Baker.

  Julian turned to Baker. “Then if you have nothing on him, he’s free to go, isn’t he? We have a plane to catch.”

  Baker dropped the backpack on the table. “Yeah, he can go.” He stepped away from the table as Julian moved to shove Joshua’s things back in the bag, but Thompson didn’t move.

  Joshua tried to keep him in his line of sight, every muscle tense.

  “What happened to your face?” repeated Thompson, brushing Joshua’s hair again.

  Joshua didn’t answer.

  “Let him go, Pat,” said Baker in a bored voice, but still Thompson didn’t move.

  “Dealer pop you one?” he said.

  Julian’s head snapped up and he glared at Thompson. “What?”

  “Let it go
, Pat.”

  “Just asking, that’s all. Just doing my job.” He pushed himself to his feet and leaned over Joshua. Joshua hunched his shoulders and tensed, but he didn’t touch him, just loomed over him for a moment, then walked away. He went straight to the door and out without a backward glance.

  Joshua closed his eyes.

  “Let’s go, Ravensong,” said Julian across the table from him.

  Joshua forced himself to stand, although his knees felt weak, and he followed Julian toward the door. The manager stopped by Baker and looked at him over the top of his glasses.

  “Your supervisor will hear from me.”

  “Be my guest,” said Baker. His eyes slid beyond Julian to Joshua. “Bye, Ravensong.”

  Joshua didn’t answer, just followed Julian out of the room and into the hallway beyond. The people behind the desks turned and watched them as they headed to the corridor. Thompson was standing in the doorway of an office and he winked at Joshua as they passed.

  Once they made it into the white tiled hall, they didn’t speak until they were almost to the door leading to the terminal. Joshua hesitated as Julian put his hand on the knob.

  “Julian?”

  The manager paused, then turned slowly on his heel. He had Joshua’s pack slung over his own shoulder.

  Joshua looked down, then up into Julian’s eyes. “Thanks for that.”

  Julian squared his jaw, then nodded.

  “It took guts to go in there.”

  “I’ve got a tour to run, Ravensong. I don’t have time for weekend warriors to play cop on me. We’ve got a flight to catch.”

  Joshua shifted weight. “I just…I didn’t…”

  “What? You thought I’d let them keep you here?”

  “I didn’t expect you of all people to come for me, no.”

  Julian moved back until he was standing right in front of Joshua. “Avalanche is important to me, Joshua. Damn important. You only get a ride like this once in a lifetime. Once!” he punctuated with a finger. “But I’m not stupid. I know you’re the reason for it.”

  Joshua narrowed his eyes. “You tried to hire another singer just a week ago.”

  “Yeah, but not because I don’t know what you bring to the band.” He shook his head. “You’re like a falling star, Joshua. Blazingly brilliant, but short lived. I wanted them to get another singer because I know…I know that eventually you’ll burn out, you’ll walk away. You’ll have to. This business is eating you alive. You think I don’t see that.” He looked away. “But we’re playing sold out stadiums every night, Ravensong, and I thought that if they were going to make a break, it had to be now. If they could bring in another singer, at the top of this ride, the public might not abandon them right away. They might make it without you…at least until the next album is out.”

  Joshua sighed. It made sense, in fact, it made good business sense. “Then maybe you should have left me in there. You know what they were trying to find, I know you do. It would have been easier to convince the band to get another singer if they thought I was using again.”

  Julian met his gaze. “But you’re not. I know that too. You’re right, I’m not stupid, and I’m also a realist. After trying out all of those singers and bringing that poor sap Lucas in to sound check, I realized what Ralph had told me all along. Whether I like it or not, Ravensong is Avalanche.” He held out the backpack to Joshua. “Now, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

  * * *

  Joshua knew he needed help. After Julian had explained what happened to the band, he’d sat on the plane beside Elena and stared around him at everyone. Someone was setting him up. At first, he’d been sure it was Julian. Now he wasn’t. Not after Julian had been the one to rescue him.

  He knew Elena wanted more details from him, but he couldn’t talk about it. He hadn’t felt so helpless in a long time. The feeling was paralyzing, crippling. He wanted to curl up, hide from the world, protect himself. He sat on the plane, holding the backpack close, and trying to analyze who would want to harm him. It was a paranoid venture and everyone seemed capable of it now.

  The ride to the hotel in the limo was hell. He stared out of the window and tried to forget that everyone was staring at him. Elena’s posture beside him was not welcoming. Pressing his forehead to the glass, he exhaled. His jaw ached and he was so damn tired. He needed to sleep, but he wasn’t about to fall asleep until either he was alone or he knew who was behind the last few pranks.

  At the hotel, Julian checked them in and handed everyone a key. They rode to their floor in silence, then went their separate ways into their various rooms. Joshua had a suite, since he and Elena shared a room. The suite was at the end of a long, barren hall, and they walked to it without speaking.

  Once inside, Elena kicked off her shoes and put down her bags.

  Joshua moved toward the couch in the sitting room and settled his pack on the table. He could feel Elena’s eyes on him.

  “What really happened?” she asked finally.

  Joshua turned to face her. “I got sick.” It came out without hesitation, and yet he felt guilty, but he really couldn’t tell her the truth, not now, not when so many strange things had been happening.

  She didn’t answer, moving to the bathroom. She returned with a washcloth and walked the bar, putting ice cubes in the middle of the cloth, then she brought it to him. “Here, you should try to reduce the swelling.”

  He caught her hand as she started to move away. “Elena, please understand. Some things I have to work out on my own. This is one of them.”

  She looked into his eyes. “I want to, Josh. I really do, but this is starting to scare me. I don’t understand what’s happening and I’m getting more and more afraid for you.”

  “Trust me, Elena, please. Believe me when I tell you things.”

  “I do,” she answered, “but it’s getting harder.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I’m gonna go call my family.”

  She walked away to the bedroom door and disappeared inside, shutting it behind her. Joshua wanted to go after her, but he’d felt the distance in her kiss. She didn’t believe him. She knew he was hiding something from her.

  Sinking down on the couch, he placed the washcloth on the table and reached for his cell phone. Snapping it open, he stared at the display. Why was it so hard to admit he was in over his head? Because he’d been here before and he’d lied his way through it for a long time. No one trusted him. They couldn’t. He’d lost all trust when he started using.

  Closing his eyes, he pushed the speed dial button and lifted the phone to his ear. It rang a few times and then a feminine voice came on the line. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Margaret,” he said, raking a hand through his hair.

  “Joshua? How are you?”

  Joshua hesitated. That was a loaded question. “All right,” he said. “How’s the baby?”

  “She’s great. Sitting up on her own. You’ve got to come see her as soon as the tour is over.”

  “I will. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Are you sure you’re okay? You sound funny.”

  Joshua drew a deep breath and opened his eyes, staring at the backpack. “I need to talk to James, if he’s there.”

  “Of course, let me get him.”

  He waited in the silence while she hunted for his brother.

  “Josh?” James’ voice was immediately alarmed. Joshua wondered what Margaret had said to him.

  “Hey, James, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to touch base.”

  James didn’t answer for a moment. “Josh, don’t shit me. I can hear the strain in your voice. What’s going on?”

  Joshua exhaled. “I need some help.”

  “Tell me where you are and I’ll catch a flight out tonight.”

  “No,” Joshua said, sitting back in alarm. “I didn’t mean that. I just need to run some things by you and get your impression, that’s all.”

&
nbsp; “Josh.” James had always used that tone with him, half-chiding, half-concerned. “Tell me where you are, damn it. You promised me.”

  Joshua’s eyes drifted to the backpack. He had promised, but it was so hard to live by that promise. It was selfish to expect his brother to bail him out, selfish to take him away from his family now, when they needed him more.

  “I just need you to do some snooping around from where you are, use your police connections, something…”

  “Joshua, please. You made me a promise, damn it. Now stick with it. Tell me where you are.”

  “I don’t want to take you from Margaret and the baby. Your job.”

  “I can get a leave for family issues and Margaret understands.”

  For some reason, that statement made Joshua hunch his shoulders. He didn’t want Margaret to understand, or pity him. James’ poor, pathetic, screwed up brother. God, sometimes he hated himself.

  “Josh, please?”

  Joshua exhaled again. He knew he’d lost the fight, and he knew he needed his brother. “Boston. We’re in Boston,” he said.

  * * *

  Elena and Evan stood in the wings, watching Avalanche perform. Joshua had moved out onto the walkway and the crowd was lifting their hands, trying to touch him as he serenaded them.

  A motion in her line of sight drew her attention and she looked up to see a tall, blond man step up on the other side of Evan. Evan reacted with a laugh and turned, embracing the man.

  “How the hell are you?” said the lead singer.

  “Good. What the hell is this get-up?” The man motioned at Evan’s zoot suit and hair.

  “Part of the gag, brother, part of the gag.” He turned to Elena. “This is Elena Harris. Elena, this is James Connor, Joshy’s brother.”

  Elena shook hands with him. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.” He looked out at the band and whistled. “Can you believe this?”

  “I know,” laughed Evan. “I keep pinching myself. We never dreamed this was possible back in the old days.”