24
When I reached Main Street, I realized my boots, while good for kicking people in the face, weren’t so great for running. My feet burned like crazy and I still had another good mile or so to get back to the gift shop and my car. Hopefully, my tote bag was there too since it hadn’t been in the back of the truck with me.
I finally felt safe enough to walk, but first I needed to rest for a bit. I hobbled to the next corner and plopped down on a metal bus stop bench. I’d just pulled off my boots and was examining my left heel to see how bad of a blister I’d formed when a car pulled up.
“Martina,” Mom said, “what are you doing at the bus stop? The last bus ran an hour ago. Where’s your car? Are you having trouble with it again? You know that’s why I was against your buying it...”
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” I said, cutting her off before she could get rolling on how poor all of my life choices had been thus far.
There was no way I was going to tell her about the kidnapping. I knew if I did, I’d never hear the end of it. “It was such a nice night I thought I’d take a walk, clear my head a bit.”
The left side of her mouth went up and she squinted at me. “Since when do you think forty-six degrees is nice? Why are you rubbing your foot?”
“Because I have a blister. What’s with the interrogation?”
Okay, so I might have over reacted just a teeny bit, but I really just wanted her to leave me alone. Unless...
“You wouldn’t be able to give me a ride back down to the gift shop would you?” I tried to sweeten by voice so that I didn’t sound like a hostile witness.
“Of course, dear. But, you know, you probably should have broken those boots in like I told you to when you first got them before you decided to go hiking around town in them.”
It ticked me off, but I really didn’t want to walk back to the shop, so I bit my tongue. Instead, I pulled on my boots and tried not to wince as I shuffled over to her car. I might have, however, slammed the door just a wee bit harder than I meant to.
Mom didn’t say anything, but I noticed a new wrinkle in her forehead and a slight tightening of her jaw. I actually felt sort of bad for being so mean when she was doing something nice for me.
Neither one of us spoke as she drove down toward the shop. She stopped in the street behind my car and I climbed out, then went around to the driver’s side. She rolled down the window and looked at me in a way that made me even more ashamed.
“I’m sorry for being so snappy with you. Thanks for giving me a lift,” I said.
“Martina, dear, I....” She stopped and smiled at me. “I’m sorry too, sweetie. I don’t mean to make you angry. It’s just that I love you. More than you can possibly know. I want the best for you. Sometimes I forget that what I think is best for you actually isn’t. I hope you’ll forgive me for that. And, that you’ll keep letting me know when I cross the line.”
I felt the tears threatening. “I know, Mom,” I said, trying not to choke up. “Sometimes I just don’t like to admit that you’re right. I’m sorry too. I love you. See you tomorrow.”
She brushed at her eyes, gave me another one of her dazzling smiles, buzzed the window up, and drove off. I watched until she turned the corner, feeling like it was a good omen and that maybe we’d turned a corner in our relationship, too.
Luckily, I found my tote bag on the ground next to my car, although about half its contents had spilled out. I tossed them back in and checked to make sure nothing had gone missing. Everything seemed to be there except my phone. I’d been charging it late in the afternoon, so I figured I’d probably left it on the desk.
I dug the shop keys out of my bag and went inside to grab it so I could call Detective Winger and let him know he needed to arrest Rose and Sugar for kidnapping me. I didn’t get the chance.
When I flipped on the light, I heard a skittering sound that was definitely not a mouse coming from the kitchen area. I stuck my head around the corner.
Ricky Ray sat at the little table, a bunch of empty chip bags spread on the table in front of him, his bare feet propped on the other chair, and a big cheesy grin spread across his face. “Well, howdy, Marty darlin’,” he drawled. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”
25
I could have killed him. I couldn’t even think what to say or ask him first, I had so many questions.
“What is wrong with you, Ricky? Don’t you know how worried everyone is? Your poor parents. Your grandmother for God’s sake. Everyone in town has been out combing the holler where they found your car. Not to mention, Vivi’s dead. You do know that, right?”
He deflated. “I heard. Giselle texted me.”
The mention of Giselle made me want to smack him upside the head. “Giselle? Is she in on it? What are you doing here? In the shop, I mean? Does Charli know you’re here? No, there’s no way. If she knew, she’d have turned you in. How’d you get in here anyway?”
He stood up and put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me back a couple of inches. “Whoa, darlin’. One thing at a time. Giselle stole the keys from your tote bag during y’all’s show last Friday. We figured this was the safest place for me to hide out, what with the apartments upstairs being empty and all, and we knew the store was closed on Sunday and Monday. I figured it would all be over with by then, and if not, I’d just be quiet the rest of the time and y’all would never know a thing. Worked pretty good, didn’t it?”
“I should have known Giselle was involved. No way was she climbing down into a ravine in that outfit in the rain. But why? Why all this pretending and hiding out and trashing your car?”
He brushed back his hair in that old familiar gesture, and plopped back down. Suddenly all of the showmanship and pretense and fake charm went away and it was the Ricky I used to love looking back at me, albeit one with wicked dark circles and a scraggly six-day-old beard.
“I didn’t know what else to do, Marty. Someone has been following me, threatening me. Not just idle threats either. They broke into the house one night a couple of weeks ago while I was asleep and dumped poison in my fish tank. Left a threat written in blood on the powder room mirror. Said they were going after my family. Marty, I have an alarm system and it never even went off. Scared the bejeebers out of me.”
“Yikes. That would scare anybody. Do the police have any leads on who did it?”
He stood up and rubbed his hands together, then began pacing around the tiny kitchen. “I didn’t go to the cops because Vivi said that would make things worse. There are, uhm, well, there are some photos. Whoever trashed the house has them. They’re -- uh, well, let’s just say they’re not something I’d want my momma to see.”
So, Charli’s gossip was true. “Unbelievable, Ricky. I never would have thought you’d be dumb enough to let someone take those kinds of pictures.”
“I’m not. I swear, Marty, I’m not. I don’t know who took them or how they arranged it. When Vivi first came to me about them, I thought it was a bluff, but, well, it wasn’t. I saw one . They’re real and they’d jack up my career if they came out. Not to mention my reputation. I’m a take-him-home-to-momma sort of guy. It’s my brand.”
“Right, Ricky, you are just so squeaky clean,” I said sarcastically. “How did Vivi know about the pictures? Did they leave a note when they trashed your house or something?”
He sat back down and idly started playing with one of the empty chip bags. “She got a letter with a contact number. It was a burner phone because we hired a detective to track it. I made an offer to pay, but it wasn’t enough money for them. They immediately released one of the photos to a gossip site. It’s not the clearest one and it’s not the most reputable site. Vivi denied it was me, but it was. Supposedly there are more. Ones Vivi saw. She said I’ll have a hard time denying those since they’re really clear.”
I pulled the other chair around and sat next to him. “How many are out there ?”
“Four or five. She tried negotiating with them, but last Friday, they s
aid they were just going to go ahead and release them this week unless I canceled my tour and paid them a crap-ton of money. I can’t do that, Marty. First off, I don’t have the kind of money they want. I’m doing good, but not that good. Touring is expensive and I don’t make hardly anything off of the records. Not to mention, I’d lose everything if I canceled. My risk insurance for this tour wouldn’t cover if I didn’t have a legit reason for canceling.”
“So you’re going to call their bluff?”
“It’s not a bluff. That’s the thing. Vivi said they sold two of the pictures to one of the reputable sites. Vivi called the owner of the site, begged ‘em not to release it, but they basically just laughed at her. I’ve been on pins and needles waiting for them to publish. Vivi was taking care of everything. She told me she’d handle it. I don’t know if she did or not and I don’t have any way of finding out since she never told me which site it was.”
I felt a little bit sorry for him, but just a bit. I didn’t buy his story about not knowing the pictures were being taken.
“So what does all that have to do with you being here in Glenvar, hiding out, making everybody worry?”
“Vivi, when the picture thing came up, she thought up this plan. I didn’t really want to go along with it, but we thought they’d publish the photos and... I don’t know. It sounded like a good idea when Vivi explained it.”
I got a couple of root beers out of the fridge. “What was the plan, exactly?”
He opened his soda and took a swig before answering. “I was supposed to just hide out for a couple of days, then I’d show up all tanned and confused about the reports that I’d gone missing. I’d tell everybody I’d been at some remote little cabin without phone service and hadn’t known anything. She thought it would get the attention off of the pictures.”
“Ricky, that is the dumbest thing I think I’ve ever heard. In my opinion, you being missing would just bring more attention to the pictures. I always thought you were smarter than that. Vivi, too. Now, I’m not so sure. I can’t believe you let someone total your car and trash your house. What were you thinking?”
“We didn’t trash the house. I’m figuring it was the same people that did it before. All we did was drive down here. Then, I pushed the car off into the ravine. Oh Lordy, Marty, that was the hardest thing I ever done in my life. I loved that there car! Anyway, Giselle picked me up and drove me over here, then she went back and pretended to find the car. All this was supposed to be over with by now. But then Giselle texted me and said to lay low because Vivi was dead. That’s when I got really scared. I figure who ever killed her is the one that broke in my house and poisoned the fish. I’m sure I’m next.”
I smacked my hand on the table, causing him to jump. “Ricky, you’ve got to go to the police. Right now. You can’t keep hiding out. The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be for them to find out who’s behind this. Running around scared all the time is no way to live your life.”
He rubbed his hands over his hair, leaned his elbows on the table, and put his head in his hands so he was staring down at the table top.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, Marty,” he said, ignoring what I’d said. “I swear to you, if I’d know Vivi was going to die, I’d never have gone along with it. I don’t know what to do now.” He looked up at me. “What do you think I oughta do Marty?”
“I just told you, Ricky. This is a huge mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Not to mention everyone else involved. You should have owned up to it when you found out Vivi died. Now, though, I think the longer you wait to come clean, the worse it’s going to get.”
I thought of something else. “What about Beau? She was here, hiding out in my apartment. How does she figure in all of this? Is she in on it too?”
Ricky actually smiled when I mentioned her name. “Not really. She knew about the pictures and that I was going to peace out for a couple of days, but she wasn’t in on the planning. We got here on Saturday and she got us a room out at that skuzzy motel on route 43. Paid cash for three nights. She wasn’t feeling well, so she took some cold medicine Saturday night and fell asleep early. I didn’t tell her where I was going to hide out and her and Vivi, well, they got into a fight about something or another a couple weeks back and weren’t speaking to each other. I figured the fewer people who knew, the better, plus I wanted to protect Beau. Is she still at your apartment?”
“No. I took her to the bus station this morning and dropped her off. Gave her all the cash I had. I assume she was going back to Nashville.”
For the first time, he looked as though he might cry. “Maybe. Probably L.A., though. She doesn’t have to be on set for a while. I sure wish she’d stuck around. God, I miss her.”
He might miss her, but I was beyond glad she was gone. “I gotta say, Ricky, I’m pretty surprised you’re hooked up with her. She’s not your usual type.”
“What do you mean by that?” he said, defensively.
“I mean, well, since you dumped me, you’ve been with those model types, the ones that are all teeth and tatas. You know, arm candy. Gold diggers.”
He shook his head. “Exactly. Gold diggers. Not a one of them cared about me. Plus, I got tired of not being able to talk to them. Beau, she’s not like that. She’s got her own thing going. She’s so freaking loaded, people probably think I’m the gold digger. She’s smart and interesting. Marty, I’ve never felt like this before about anyone. Even you.”
I decided to be the bigger person that I am and ignore his diss. “I’m happy for you, Ricky. I really am.”
He gave me a big, goofy grin. “I’m fixin’ to ask her to marry me.”
Whoa! I wasn’t expecting that. Not that it bothered me. Beau hadn’t really talked a lot about him, so I couldn’t help but wonder if she felt the same way.
“Dang, Ricky. Aren’t you rushing things? You’ve only known her for about a month, haven’t you?”
“When you know, Marty, you just know. She’s the one. I’m hoping when all this is finally over with, she’ll have me.”
He stared off into the distance, evidently planning his future wedding to Beau, with Mr. Delusion and Mr. Denial ensconced as his best men. I decided to jerk him back to reality.
“Ricky, you need to snap out of your little fairy tale. Don’t forget. Vivi’s dead and it might be because of you.”
“Now hold on, Marty. That’s harsh. You act like I’m being insensitive. I’m just as upset as anyone about Vivi. She was my friend, you know. Maybe even my best one. Besides, it’s not like this is really your problem. No one even has to know that I hid out here.”
I smacked the table again. “What do you mean, it’s not my problem? Vivi died right in front of me! Not to mention, you’ve got some fans who are just plan bonkers. They’ve been hanging out in front of your parent’s house, causing all kinds of chaos. Two of them are convinced that I’ve got you hidden away somewhere, or killed you, and have been following me around, threatening to beat me up. They even kidnapped me tonight. Thankfully, I got away. I might even have broken the nose of one of them.”
He chuckled, then stopped when I slugged him in the arm.
“It’s not funny. Those chicks are freaking loony tunes. And dangerous,” I said.
He rolled his eyes. “They aren’t. You’re talking about Sugar and Rose, I’m guessing. They’re Izz’s main minions. They show up at all of my shows and fancy themselves to be my protectors. They mean well. They wouldn’t harm a fly.”
“You’re wrong, Ricky. Maybe Rose is harmless, but that Sugar, she’s got problems. You don’t think it’s possible they’re behind all of the graffiti and stuff going on? Maybe they killed Vivi.”
“Oh, heck no. Like I said, they’re harmless. Izzy gives them free shirts and stuff for helping her around the office sometimes. I think it’s more likely some of Beau’s fans. She’s got some who are really invested in her character and they think she and Stephan are on the verge of getting married and squirting out kid
s. She even had to get a restraining order against a couple of them last summer.”
“Dang. I sure am glad I’m not a big star, then,” I scowled at him. “All right, Ricky, so what are we going to do about this? I can’t keep this a secret, you know. It’s time to fish or cut the bait like a fish out of water.”
He rolled his eyes again. “That’s not how it goes, Marty. You’re mixing your metaphors just like your mom always does.”
“Idioms, Ricky. They’re idioms, not metaphors,” I said. Idiot, I thought.
“Anyway, I know you can’t keep this a secret,” he said. He drained the rest of his root beer and tossed the empty bottle into the trash can. “I understand. I’ve put you in a bind.”
“That’s a freaking understatement, Ricky. I guess the best thing to do is to call Detective Winger. He’s the one in charge of Vivi’s murder. By the way, he’s convinced that your disappearance and her murder are connected too.”
His eyes got big. “Oh crap! If I turn myself into him, he’s liable to think I had something to do with her murder. Marty, we’ve got to think this through better. This is all bad enough. If people start thinking I’m involved in the murder of my publicist, my career is going to be over.”
“You really should have thought about that when you agreed to this cockamamie scheme, Ricky,” I scolded.
“How was I supposed to know someone would kill her? I thought all I had to worry about were a bunch of sex pictures.” He put his head down on the table and moaned.
I grabbed his shoulder and shook him, hard. “Sitting here moaning and groaning isn’t going to help anything. We need to figure out what to do. So sit up and quit feeling sorry for yourself.”
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