Colt shook his head vigorously. “No, I’m not postponing. It would set back the other tour dates. Let’s do this.”
“Are you serious? Can you go on stage with all that’s going on?”
“I’ve been performing for the last fifteen years under the exact same circumstances. Nothing has changed except that the truth has been revealed,” he replied, casting his eyes upon Chelsea. “What do you say?”
Her mind was also numb from all that was happening, and she had no inkling what to say in this situation. She weighed her mind while Colt waited expectantly for her reply. It was strange. A month ago, he was the biggest jerk she knew; now he was looking at her like her answer was the only one that mattered.
“If you feel that you’re okay enough to do it, then I see no reason to postpone. It could work in your favor,” she replied.
He smiled and asked, “How so?”
“If you put all your emotions, the anger, pain, and everything you are feeling now into your performance, you should have the crowd eating out of your hands.”
He seemed pleased. However, Reid didn’t look convinced, but he said nothing. Colt connected his eyes with hers, and for a moment, the room faded. It happened every now and then that when he looked at her this way, she felt that she was alone in the world with him. Her heart skipped a beat. Heat ran up her neck, and she blushed deeply.
“Now if you two could stop making googly eyes at each other, maybe we can pull this off,” Reid’s sarcastic tone brought her back to the room. “Chelsea, I need you to head over to the venue and see to it that everything is taken care of. We need to divert the press’ attention from the article about his mother.”
“Should we make a statement about the coroner’s report?” she asked.
Reid shook his head. “Not yet. We need to sort things out with the lawyer and the police. I have a feeling that someone was behind the whole thing.”
“Okay,” she agreed. A niggling feeling was gnawing at her as well, but she put a smile on her face and made to move off.
“Also set up another press meeting for right after the concert when he’s fresh off the stage,” he added. “Everything should be sorted by then.”
With her purse in hand, Chelsea headed to the door. As she put her hand on the handle, the door burst open, and the other band members rushed through. Behind them was a throng of people shouting questions. Andrew slammed the door and shook his head.
“All hell is breaking loose outside. Some news broke that Colt killed somebody,” Tony announced.
“Jason,” she blurted out the name without thinking.
Colt’s head whipped around to face her. He’d been talking softly to Reid while she headed to the door, and then his attention had settled on Tony. Now he had one brow cocked and was looking at her questioningly.
“Jason, I think I saw him around in the last couple of days. I wasn’t sure until now. It must be.”
“Who’s Jason?” Andrew asked.
Reid and Colt exchanged looks before Colt nodded and sat on the sofa. Reid beckoned them over. It was apparent that he was going to tell them about Colt’s past, what they did not already know.
“It’s best this comes from us, so you all know what’s going on.”
* * * *
Chelsea managed to slip out the door about an hour after Tony and the crew rushed in. The hall was empty because the hotel security ushered the reporters out. It so happened that they had gained entry via the emergency staircase. A security patrol was stationed there ASAP.
Her cab picked her up at the hotel entrance and carried her directly to the venue for the concert. While on her way, she made a few calls to the journalists that they had previously lined up for the press meeting which Colt missed. They had a myriad of questions which Chelsea fielded expertly.
“No, Colt did not kill anyone. You will know the full story after the concert,” she told one female.
“Is it wise for Colt to perform at the concert with this news?” another asked.
“Since he has nothing to hide and is definitely not guilty of the alleged crime, we see no reason to postpone or cancel,” she replied coolly.
“What about what has leaked to The Later Newsflash?” someone asked, referring to the paper that printed the story about Colt committing a crime.
Chelsea took a deep breath while holding the phone from her ear. She was getting frustrated with them consistently questioning her about what the paper said. They all knew that particular news agency was not known for their accuracy and had been sued a number of times.
“I assure you, sir, that story is far from the truth, and you would be mindful not to report it. Thank you for agreeing to come to the concert press meeting,” she replied hanging up before he could further question her about the matter.
By this time, she had reached the venue and was checking off her list of things to confirm. They would do another check just before the concert, but everything needed to be ready beforehand. It was better that way. Within two hours, she was done and calling a cab to take her back to the hotel.
* * * *
“I’m not able to reach her,” Colt said.
“She must be sleeping by now. It’s late.”
Chelsea had not called since leaving for the venue. He and Reid left shortly after to meet with the detective and a criminal lawyer Colt’s personal lawyer arranged. The attorney, Jack Russell, had acquired a court order demanding the police file for the case of twenty years ago. They were determined to figure out what went wrong, and why Edna was not released.
“I sent the file to the DA. The report is there. I thought everything was now fixed.”
“Who was the DA at the time?” Jack had directed his question at the detective.
“Allan Sykes, he was the DA at the time. I remember clearly because he was a hound. His sole goal was ramping up the convictions, making a name for himself.”
“Why does that name ring such a bell?” Jack asked.
“He was a big name back in the day. I was a young cop, and you must have been a kid,” the detective said to Jack.”
“I was in junior high at the time, but I’ve heard that name before …” Jack replied.
Jack fingered his clean-shaven chin. His brown hair was neatly cropped just above his crisp light gray shirt collar. He’d discarded his dark gray jacket on a chair in the hotel room they were at. He stood and walked to a small bar in the corner. It was not a suite, but rather a large hotel room overlooking the beach.
Colt listened to the conversation, but his mind was on Chelsea the entire time. She had not updated Reid, which was strange, and he’d expected her to at least call him. She hadn’t done that either. He tried her cell phone several times without answer. On the last try, it went straight to voicemail.
“I tell you, she’s asleep. Now focus on what’s going on,” Reid reprimanded.
“Right,” he nodded, still eyeing the phone.
They left Jack’s hotel at around two that morning and headed back to Hotel Olympus. He would have gone directly to Chelsea’s room if Reid hadn’t stopped him, telling him to leave her to rest. He had a concert in less than 36 hours, and they all needed rest. He acquiesced, though not pleased.
* * * *
“Her phone is off!” Reid slammed the phone down on his desk
Colt glared hotly at him. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you!”
“I’m calling all the hospitals in the area, maybe she met an accident,” Reid worriedly stated.
“I’m going out to look for her.” Colt grabbed Reid’s keys while his heart beat erratically.
“No, you’re not going out with all the reporters camping out in the parking lot,” Reid commanded.
“Try and stop me, and I swear I’ll break your leg,” Colt warned.
One of the bedroom doors opened and out walked a sleepy looking Tony. “What’s all the ruckus, people are tryna sleep here.” He yawned widely and rubbed his chest.
“Chelsea’s not in
her room and not answering her phone. Do you know where she is?” Colt asked suspiciously, remembering how close Tony had tried to get to her.
“Haven’t seen her since yesterday,” Tony replied.
His mind went in all directions. Could she have met an accident like Reid said or did she leave him? No, she wouldn’t have left like that. Her things were still in the hotel room. What if she hurt herself and got stranded somewhere?
“Go change and come help me find her,” Colt ordered Tony.
“Yeah, give me a minute.”
Tony was back in five minutes. Reid was on the phone calling around emergency rooms to see if she was taken in. He saw her less than 24 hours ago, so he could not report a missing person. Colt could not wait for the elevator. He bounded down the staircase two at a time with Tony right behind him.
Once on the road, he checked the beachside concert venue first. She was not there. The manager hadn’t seen her since around 6:00 the previous evening. They walked along the beach for a while, and she was nowhere in the area. They drove around for a few hours and did not see her.
“I feel like an idiot driving around like this,” Colt complained in frustration. “I have no clue where to look.”
“What about your house? What if she went there?”
“Alone?”
“You’re right; she wouldn’t go there. She has no reason to,” Tony replied.
Colt needed to see for himself, though he doubted that she was there. She had no reason to return there without him. He turned on the road that led to Clearlake. As he drove through the town, memories came flashing back. When he turned into the road where his house was located, a dark mood enveloped him. He sensed Tony’s curiosity, but he was in no mood to play tour guide. As soon as he came to a stop at the front of the yard, he hopped from the vehicle
He didn’t need to go in to know she wasn’t there. The door was locked from the outside by the key being on the lintel. He walked around the side of the house and peered around back. Everything was as he left it a few days prior.
“She’s not here,” he observed.
“So this is where you grew up, huh?” Tony’s curiosity got the better of him.
Colt nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“We should report this, at least make a statement to the police. She’s never disappeared, and you know Chelsea, she’s not a party girl,” Tony ranted on as they entered the car. “I think something is wrong, very wrong.”
Colt was beginning to feel the same. Something wasn’t right. She did not meet an accident, or Reid would have found her by now. If she’d been in the emergency room, they would have contacted someone. They were all required to have each other’s contact information on them in case of an emergency.
“Reid’s talking to the detective dealing with my case,” he told the other man.
“Oh yes.”
At that moment, while he drove through the little town, his phone rang. It was Reid.
“You need to come back to the hotel now,” Reid said over the phone.
Before Colt could ask what the problem was, he heard a click. That was Reid’s MO, to drop command like that and leave him hanging. He stepped on the gas, making his way out of Clearlake and back onto the main thoroughfare. The first thing that entered his mind was that Chelsea had returned, but the tone of Reid’s voice was dismal, so he doubted that was it.
“Do you think he found her?”
“I hope so,” was his simple reply.
His gut told him otherwise—that Reid had bad news. He stepped on the gas as he made his way onto the highway that led back to the city. However as fate would have it, he had to slow almost to a halt because of the buildup of mid-morning traffic.
“Fu—,” Colt swore under his breath.
Tony shifted uneasily in his seat. “What the hell is causing this buildup at this time of day?” He peered through the window, straining his neck to see what was happening up front. “Looks like an accident.”
Colt’s heart gave a lurch, his chest tightening. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles became white. No, he thought, trying not to think the worst. The sense of trepidation he’d felt earlier became a feeling of dread. This was not happening. He refused to think that Chelsea was involved in any kind of accident. She was back at the hotel safely with Reid.
Miraculously, on that thought, the traffic started moving steadily ahead. He was anxious to see what had happened if only to quell his unease. There were police patrols up ahead, and traffic was being directed into another lane. Colt slowed the car as he reached where was supposed to be the accident. It was just a trailer blowing out its tire and twisted across the roadway. He closed his eyes and braked the car, expelling a long breath. A few motorists honked at him to move along, and he obliged, but he had more important things on his mind.
He was back at the hotel within 20 minutes, where he found Reid pacing the room like a caged animal. As he entered the suite, Reid stopped, looking at him sharply. Andrew, Cory, and Mike were there as well; their faces told him that something terrible had gone wrong. Was it his mother or Chelsea?
“Tell me,” he said in a thick voice.
Reid held out to him a large brown manila envelope. There was no marking, no address. He opened it and out fell a white sheet of paper. Taped to the sheet of paper was a photo of Chelsea. Her mouth was gagged, and her eyes closed. She seemed to be sleeping … or was she dead?
Chapter 32
The large sea of faces danced before Colt’s eyes as he took the microphone off the stand. He was doing something new tonight. He’d purposely left the guitar backstage and asked for a handheld mic instead of the usual headset. At the last minute, he’d requested the song changes. The boys were up for it, wanting to do something different. Reid wasn’t entirely keen on the idea, but the promoter said yes, and Colt took full advantage. Tonight was for Chelsea.
The venue was located on the beach in the Tampa Bay area. The night was cool with the sky sprinkled with twinkling stars. There was no threat of rain, but Colt’s heart was not as serene as the weather. There was a storm in his heart, raging into a full-blown hurricane at the thought that Chelsea was not there, and it may very well be his fault. He’d been trapped all his life, and now that he was free, that freedom came with a very big price.
As he stared into the crowd while the keyboard started playing slowly, Chelsea’s face loomed before him. The police were out looking for her. It had been more than 24 hours since she’d gone missing, and they were now certain she had been taken since the photo showed she was gagged and bound. The only problem was, they weren’t sure whether she was dead or alive, though his heart was telling him she was not dead.
“I wrote this one a few weeks ago when something strange started happening to me,” his voice was thick as he addressed the crowd.
The crowd went silent as they listened to him. This had never happened before. He’d never explained what motivated a song or even spoke to the crowd except a few times to say thanks to his fans. His heart raced, and his stomach felt a little warm from the emotions settling there.
“I started caring about what others … no … what someone thought about me,” he said with a chuckle.
He walked to the front of the stage and looked down. The cool summer breeze rushed refreshingly off the sea and rustled his hair. He cast his eyes to the night sky with a small prayer, bringing the mic close to his lips before closing his eyes. The instruments played in harmony behind him on the stage, but he slipped into a different world as he started a slow ballad. His voice was rich but smooth. The lyrics rolled off his tongue like molten chocolate, smooth and sweet.
After the last note played, he stood with his eyes closed, his heart humming to the beat of his own music. For a moment, no sound could be heard but his own heartbeat. Then the crowd erupted into a tumultuous cheer that shook the stage. There were whistles and shouts such as he’d never heard before.
“That was epic man!” Tony’
s voice was swathed in awe a few feet behind him.
The energy from the crowd was a welcome boost to his state of mind. He motioned to the band to start the next song, another new song, “She’s Fire”. By the end of the concert, in which Tony debuted a new song as well, the crowd was going wild, begging for anchor after anchor. The members of the band were also feeling the love as Colt high fived each of them and showed them another side to him.
“Hey man, you were awesome,” Mike said after a high five from Colt.
“Thanks, man. Without you guys, this would not be possible,” he replied.
All four other band members looked at each other with mouths open. Colt noticed the shocked looks on their faces and chortled. He knew he’d been a jackass most of the time, and this was unlike him.
“We got to find Chelsea right away man,” Mike said. “It’s even more critical we find her now.”
“Why so?” Cory asked.
“To thank her of course!” Mike laughed. “She’s obviously the reason for this phenomenal change.”
Colt’s expression changed at the mention of her name. He knew they were only trying to cheer him up, but a pain stabbed him in the chest just thinking of her lying in a ditch somewhere. Since the photo appeared the day before, no one had contacted them. He was expecting a ransom call, any call, but nothing happened. They’d handed over everything to the police and were waiting for answers, but he was quickly going crazy not knowing where she was.
“Hey man,” Tony said. “She’s going to be fine. We’ll find her soon.”
Reid joined them while the press waited impatiently at the back of the stage where Reid designated for the post-concert interviews.
“Are you up to talking to those guys? I think they got wind that something’s amiss,” Reid informed them.
“What did you say to them?” Colt questioned.
Reid patted him on the shoulder. “I haven’t spoken with them yet. I thought maybe you wanted to make a statement. The crowd really responded to you; maybe you should just continue in the same vein.”
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