“Are you getting that?”
She made three strides and grabbed the phone mid-ring. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Detective Henry. To whom am I speaking?”
Her stomach flipped. “Detective, it’s Chelsea,” she replied.
“Chelsea?” he sounded surprised. “I thought you left. I was going to call you next. It’s good you are there; I’m on my way up to see Colt. I’ll be there in two minutes.”
“Okay, see you in a bit.”
“Was that Detective Henry? Did he find anything?” Colt was beside her in seconds.
“I don’t know; he says he’s on his way. He said two minutes,” she informed him.
“I’ll go downstairs so you all can talk,” Andrew said, standing and stretching.
“No, I think you should stay, right Colt?” Chelsea looked pointedly at Colt.
He nodded. “Sure, why not?”
One of the many reasons why the other members felt that they could not stay with the band was because they felt left out of everything. Colt would always shut them out and keep to himself. He didn’t allow anyone to get close. He even hated rehearsals. It was a wonder that they were famous. As far as Chelsea was concerned, things would be different.
The knock at the door brought her thoughts back to the issue at hand. Andrew moved to let in the officer while Chelsea tried to still her unease. She didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was the memory of her ordeal that made her restless or the anxiety that they did not catch the culprit. Panic froze her in the spot as Henry walked in.
“What have you got Detective?” Colt asked as soon as the man was through the door.
Henry took out a notebook and flipped a few pages. “How are you, Chelsea?” he asked, looking at her strangely for a minute. “Are you alright?”
Her stomach was queasy again, and the headache from earlier began to throb at her temples. “I’m fine,” she managed with a smile.
She could tell he was not convinced but dropped it. With a nod of the head, he turned to Colt. He flipped through a few more pages of his pad before speaking.
“Do you know a Casey Benson?” he asked.
A dark look crossed Colt’s face before he replied, “Yes.”
His jaws clenched. Chelsea observed his sudden change of mood. He moved to the window, where he turned his back to them.
“She’s Carl Benson’s sister,” he said. He turned and connected his eyes with her. “She committed suicide a few years back. Her brother blamed me for it.”
Henry raised his brows. “Who told you she committed suicide?”
“It was in the paper. Her brother has been all over me since. Where is all this going?” he seemed agitated.
Henry shook his head. “No, she never committed suicide,” he informed a surprised Colt. “There is a history of mental illness with the mother and later with her. The mother took her life a few years ago; maybe you got it wrong?”
“No, Carl has been hounding me for years, blaming me for her death. I didn’t get it wrong.”
“Then he lied to you, perhaps to make you feel guilty about his sister,” Henry replied, then turned to Chelsea. “Chelsea, did your friend describe that girl to you? The one you told me about?’
“What girl?” Colt cocked a brow.
“Molly told me that a girl she boarded had a lot of newspaper clippings of you and old photos. She said one of the photos looked like you at a younger age,” she said.
“How come I never heard of it?”
She inhaled and slowly let it out before answering, “Because I never got a chance to tell you. Many things happened since.”
“Oh,” he quietly replied.
“Do you think your friend would mind talking with me?” Henry inquired of Chelsea.
She shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
“What’s all this about, Detective?” asked Colt.
“We’re checking on a few leads. Chelsea told me that she heard a male and a female voice, so we’re just checking it out. We’ll inform you when we have something concrete. Now on to more favorable news,” Henry said, flipping the notebook again.
Her heart rate had slowed somewhat, and she’d begun to relax. Colt was noticeably on edge and impatient. She closed the one-foot gap between them and stood close to him. What Henry was about to disclose might be about his mother’s case, and she knew he needed support.
“Your stepfather had an insurance policy that was claimed by your brother,” Henry started.
Colt cut him off mid-sentence. “He’s not my brother.”
Henry looked at him and back to his notes, “Stepbrother Jason ...”
“Wait, wasn’t he just a kid like Colt back then? How could he claim the insurance? Wouldn’t he need an adult to sign it?” Chelsea asked, curious about what Henry was saying.
“Exactly!” Henry agreed. “Moreover, his name was not the primary on the insurance. The guardian was Colt’s mother.”
“What are you saying?” Colt finally realized what was going on.
“We traced the insurance. Since your mother could not sign, we checked all the officials who were involved in the case. It just didn’t make sense that the insurance was claimed for a murder.”
Colt ran his hand through his hair and squinted his eyes. “So you’re saying that for the insurance to be claimed …?”
“The death has to be ruled as natural, and the DA’s office has to sign off on it,” Henry finished.
“It’s not making sense. If the DA signed off of the natural cause of death, why wasn’t my mother released?”
Henry smirked, “Good question. We’re now checking into that.”
“So Jason might have been involved in all this,” Colt murmured. “I could kill the bastard.”
“He’s disappeared as well. We’re looking for him as we speak. I also need to have a word with Carl Benson, the reporter. He has a lot of explaining to do.”
It seemed that the detective was putting all the pieces of the puzzle together, and perhaps Jason was at the center of it all. Chelsea wondered what else was hidden, and who else was involved. She also wondered about Carl’s sister and the relationship between Colt and her. There were so many unanswered questions that she was beginning to feel dizzy. Did she make the right decision coming back, or should she have gone ahead to New York?
Chapter 40
It was a well-needed vacation, sipping margaritas on the beach with a beautiful woman at his side. Fifteen years of never having fun, following behind a rotten rock star were enough to drive him over the edge. Reid checked his messages for the umpteenth time. He picked up the phone and shook it. He checked the signal, and then he called Ella’s number just to make certain there was nothing wrong with it.
She picked up the phone. “Why are you calling me?” She frowned. “Are you that bored already?”
“No sweetie,” he cajoled. “I just …” he rambled.
“Thought Colt would call?”
He shrugged. “Not at all. I just wondered why Chelsea hasn’t called back.”
“Ha-ha-ha, you seem to forget how well I know you,” she chortled.
Two blocks away from Hotel Olympus at a private villa, they lounged on the terrace, enjoying the late afternoon sun. Reid laid back on the lounger and squinted up at the sun before turning his eyes to the beauty lying on the chair beside him. Her raven hair gleamed as rays of sun bounced from it. These last few days were great, romping in the sack and relaxing.
Both he and Colt needed a time out. He had just been thinking that Colt had sweated it long enough when Chelsea called. Now he knew that Colt was all right, he didn’t really need to rush back. But, deep down, he had hoped the guy would call. Usually, Colt would call him and beg him to come back, making empty promises he knew he wouldn’t keep. This time, he didn’t call.
“I got to go back now,” he told Ella.
“I know.” She laughed. “I see it. You think he knows you didn’t actually quit; that’s why he didn’t call?
”
“I think he believed me this time. That’s why he didn’t call,” he said, turning to face her. “They can wait one more night.”
Reaching a hand out, he cupped one her breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze. She sucked in her breath and grabbed his hand, gently tugging him. They both stood and walked back inside.
* * * *
After Detective Henry left, the three of them discussed what would happen with the two concerts left in the tour. Colt didn’t say much, but Andrew thought it would be a good idea to host the auditions ASAP so the new musicians could get a good head start. The next concert was less than a month away, and they needed to move fast.
“Chelsea, I need a word,” Colt finally said after keeping silent the entire time.
His voice startled her, and she jumped; her heart flew to her mouth. “Okay.”
He stood and walked to his bedroom. She hesitated. He turned and beckoned her. Her heart flipped over a few times. What was he going to do in there anyway? Andrew was just sitting outside. She moved with wooden legs, all the time wondering what he wanted to say. Andrew’s eyes followed her all the way until she was inside the room and the door closed behind her.
“Yes?” Her voice shook
He turned to her as soon as he was in. They stood about two feet apart, but Chelsea felt his presence, the magnetic force field whirling around her. Her eyes settled on his broad shoulders to avoid making eye contact. All she wanted at that moment was to close the two feet gap and rest her head on those shoulders.
Her stomach quivered as she felt her body charge with electrical current. He’d ignited her, and now she was on fire. They were in a closed room, and even though Andrew was just outside, it felt like they were alone.
“Chelsea,” his voice was softer than usual.
“Hmm?”
“You shouldn’t have come back,” he said.
Her eyes darted upward. He was raking his hand through his hair. Her eyes settled on his bulging biceps.
“What do you mean?”
“I could never make you happy,” he continued, walking to the bed and sitting.
There was something different about him that drew her attention away from his physique. She now looked keenly at his face, his body language. Pensive. Yes, that was it. He had become a little withdrawn. Perhaps all that happened in the past and present were taking their toll. Perhaps they were now sinking in. But what did that have to do with her coming back?
“Are you upset with me?” she asked, just out of curiosity.
His head snapped up, and he cocked a brow. “What? How could I be upset with you?”
“Good, then let’s not talk about me not coming back …” she said.
“You should get on with your life, Chelsea. I am no good for you.”
She wasn’t sure why he was telling her this. “Do you want me to leave?”
“It’s not that I want you to leave. It’s that you must,” he replied.
She walked to the bed and sat beside him, taking one of his large hands in hers. Immediately, an electrical charge sprinted up her arm. She was certain he felt it too. She reached over and pressed her lips to his neck; he sucked his breath in and turned to protest. She pressed her lips to his, and then pulled back.
“Now tell me to leave,” she murmured.
“That’s not fair,” he replied in a gravelly tone.
“Why? Do you know why I came back?”
“Because you feel pity for me?”
She laughed lightly. “Why would I pity you? You have it all. I came back because I know you need me, even if you deny it. And I realized something,” her voice lowered.
She looked down at their hands; their fingers now twined together. She liked the flow of energy between them. Her heart was racing at a million beats per second. She’d never been this close to anyone that she felt she could sink into their arms without a second thought. Their shoulders were touching, but she yearned for more. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold her as if she was the most important thing in his life. Instead, he was telling her to leave.
“What’s that?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
“That I need you too,” she replied. “I’m not leaving. So please don’t push me away.”
He placed a finger under her chin and turned her face to look at him. She raised her leaden lids and looked into his hazel eyes. They glinted and deepened in color. Then slowly he moved and covered her lips with his in a feather light kiss. He pulled back and her heart stopped. Was this kiss goodbye? Was it?
They held each other’s gaze for a moment before he cupped her face with both hands, dipping his head once more. His mouth crushed hers, and she parted her lips to allow his tongue entry. With precision, he wrapped his tongue around hers. The thrilling feeling of the contact coursed through her. Her arms began snaking their way around his neck when a loud knock interrupted their moment. Reluctantly, they pulled apart, both breathing shallow.
Chelsea stood and straightened her skirt, trying to steady her breathing. After a few deep breaths, she walked to the door and opened it, expecting to see Andrew. Her eyes widened in surprise as silvery gray eyes stared back at her.
“Reid!”
Without thinking, she flung herself into his arms. But a sound behind then caused her to pull away. Both Colt and Reid glared at each other for a long time with Chelsea feeling as though she was the referee.
“Hey,” Reid said, nodding his head in greeting
Colt grunted, nodding back at Reid.
“How you been?” Reid asked.
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Colt smirked.
“What, watching you sweat?”
“You stayed longer this time,” Colt replied. “I thought you were serious.”
Chelsea frowned. “What’s this?” she turned to Reid. “You quit before?”
“Three times before,” Colt said. “He finds some excuse to take a vacation. Is it someone I know this trip?”
“Shut up,” Reid snickered. “I really wasn’t coming back this time. I’ve had enough of your shenanigans. I was really angry.”
Colt’s face took on a sober look. “I know,” he said. As Reid turned towards the living room, Colt added, “I’m sorry man.”
Reid whipped around with a shocked expression. “Huh?” He turned to Chelsea. “Did he just say sorry?”
“Yes,” she grinned, pleased with Colt.
Colt was annoyed at Reid’s reaction. “Get to work and stop fooling around.”
“Yeah, I can see you haven’t changed one bit.”
Reid was back, that meant there was hope for the band reuniting. He moved into the suite, occupying one of the empty rooms the guys vacated. She was hopeful that she could get Tony and the others back before they signed their own label. Colt seemed more relaxed now that Reid was back.
The first thing Chelsea did after the initial small talk about Reid’s return was call Tony. He seemed to be the ringleader in the splitting of the band. According to Andrew, he was the one that was angry the most. Cory and Mike were also fed up with Colt’s unstable behavior, but Tony was the one who suggested they start their own group. At first, the idea seemed like a good one, but after leaving, he realized they didn’t have a foot to stand on.
Her calls to Tony were unanswered. She tried the others, but they too did not pick up. In the end, she arranged for the auditions for the new band members. Colt didn’t seem happy about that. Chelsea believed he was not telling what he truly wanted. Though he didn’t lock himself away like the old Colt, he was quiet most of the time.
Chapter 41
The hotel was generous enough to let them use one of their conference rooms for the auditions. She was surprised to see so many participants, more than she’d expected for the auditions on the first day. Given that the headlines had not been favorable towards Colt and the band, this was a good sign.
She decided not to read the papers after the day she returned. However, she could not say t
he same for Reid. He hogged every newspaper, scanning for the least bit of news about Purple Crush. The latest one was about the auditions.
After the disassembling of the rock band Purple Crush, with its lead going off the deep end, it seems they are trying to beat a dead horse by hosting auditions this Wednesday. They are now seeking to replace only two of the musicians. It seemed that the arrogant playboy will now have to take up his guitar and use it like any other musician if he wants to save his band.
She’d briefly scanned the article, dumping the paper after the first paragraph. It seemed that now there were other journalists willing to thrash the rock star because it sold papers. With a shake of her head, Chelsea took her mind off the bad press, focusing on the low drone of voices in the room. There were 32 names registered on her clipboard for the playoffs, but the room seemed packed, more like a hundred people were there. It was difficult to tell whether they were all there for the auditions or some were just fans.
Leaning back in his chair with his head resting on the wall to the left, Colt seemed disinterested in the happenings. In front of him was a small table with notebook and a mike, where he could take notes or speak directly with the entrants. Andrew was good and ready, seemingly excited as she was. She eyed him and noticed for the first time that he was actually quite a young man. Sporting a goatee and pencil sideburns distracted from his soft brown eyes and sweet smile. He was a likable fellow.
“We’re all set,” he said, rubbing his hands together with glee. “Where’s Reid?”
“I don’t know. Let’s start without him,” she replied.
With a vigorous shake of his head, he said, “No, Reid’s the one who does the final call, man. Once when Mike was sick and we needed a temp, and another time when we sponsored a group, Reid’s the one to make the final call.”
“So then, we filter them by doing a preliminary round. Reid will make the final call when he sees the ones we chose. Plus, Colt is here.”
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