by J. L. Farey
“Or matches,” Aurora said. “Did you know, you can make millions of matches out of one tree, but it only takes one match to kill an entire forest.”
“That’s deep,” Aiden said. “You should print it on a little piece of paper and stuff it in a fortune cookie.”
Aurora cocked her head to the side. “Come to think of it, that might be where I read it in the first place.”
Before the conversation could get anymore off track, the front door opened and a man stepped out of the house.
“What’re you standing out there for? Come on in!” His booming voice and wide smile were even more welcoming than the house.
Danielle smiled so wide, she was in danger of straining her facial muscles. “Just leave everything in the car,” she said without taking her eyes off Rye. “We’ll get it later.” She hurried up the path, between the wooden bears, and jumped into Rye’s arms.
“Hey,” Wade said, looking over the top of his sunglasses, “is that Rye Randall?”
Laurel made a face at him as she opened the back of the SUV. “Have you been asleep this entire time? Rye is the reason we’re here.”
“Well, yeah, I knew that.” He pushed his glasses back into place, trying to act cool. “I was just making sure that’s him. He looks different in person.”
He didn’t, but Laurel decided not to press the issue. “Come on, boy.” Bailey stretched, shook himself, then plodded over to her. “I know you don’t need this,” she said as she snapped the leash on his collar, “but it’s good manners when you’re a guest in someone’s home.”
He gave her a long-suffering look, then jumped down to the ground.
Wade and Aurora were already being greeted by Rye, but Aiden had waited for Laurel. She slid her hand into his and their fingers intertwined. “He sure seems happy for a guy who might be arrested for murder. Maybe that’s because he knows he’s innocent.”
“Or because he’s certain he’ll get away with it.” Aiden squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”
For years, Laurel had seen Rye Randall in magazines, on TV, even as a 30-foot giant head on a billboard the year he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. She knew what he looked like and would have recognized him anywhere. But now, it was like she was seeing him for the first time. She wasn’t looking at Rye the megastar, she was looking at Rye, Aiden’s father. Too bad Rye didn’t realize he was looking at his son.
Danielle continued with the introductions. “This is Laurel.”
“Nice to meet you.” She stuck her hand out, but Rye ignored it and smothered her with a hug.
“Glad you could come.” He looked down at her feet. “And who’s this?”
“This is Bailey. If there’s someplace outside you’d like him to stay–”
He waved her suggestion away. “You just let him go wherever he wants. Inside, outside, whatever makes him comfortable.” Rye turned back to Danielle. “And who’s the last member of the group?”
“This is Aiden.” She put her hand on Aiden’s back. “He’s my son.”
Every one of them froze in a shocked silence so complete, the only sound came from Bailey’s panting. Laurel looked at Aiden, but he was looking down at his mother, who looked at Rye, who looked at Aiden. It was quite an intense family circle. The question now was how much did Danielle plan to share? Or did she even need to? Rye wasn’t stupid. He could do the math and come to the correct conclusion on his own.
“Your son.” Rye broke the silence. He was serious now, his boisterous attitude tempered by the news. “You didn’t tell me you had a son.”
Tears welled up in Danielle’s eyes as she shook her head.
“And I’m guessing you didn’t tell me I was a father, either.”
Danielle gasped. “I didn’t know how. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Dani.” Rye pulled her against him with one arm. “All we can do is move forward.” As he comforted her, he looked at Aiden. “I’ll bet you’ve got a lot of questions.”
“I expect we both do.” It was obvious from the thickness of Aiden’s voice that he was moved.
“First things first.” He held his free hand out to Aiden. “I’m very pleased to meet you, son.”
~ ~ ~
Aiden felt like he’d just completed a marathon and now he was about to do it all over again. The brief conversation outside had left him emotionally drained, battered, and bruised. Laurel, perceptive as always, had suggested they all take some time to freshen up and get some rest before going any further. They’d all jumped at the idea.
There was so much to process, but he didn’t want to think about any of it. Instead, he thought about how comfortable the bed beneath him was and how the room vaguely smelled of vanilla. The mattress moved and he smiled as Laurel crawled to his side and collapsed beside him.
“This is the biggest bed I’ve ever seen,” she said with an exaggerated pant. “I wasn’t sure if I’d make it.”
“Maybe I took a wrong turn and drove us to Texas. Everything seems bigger here.”
“That would explain it.” She put her palm on his chest and snuggled in closer. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I don’t want to think about anybody except you and me.”
“We can do that, for a little while.”
He buried his fingers in her hair and rubbed the nape of her neck. “What do you want to do when we get home?”
“You mean, besides this?” She kissed the bottom of his jaw.
“This is a given. What plans do you have for the future?”
“Hmm, let me think. Oh!” She popped up on one elbow and looked down at him. “There is something. I was going to tell you, but the relatives descended before I had a chance.”
Her enthusiasm made him smile. “Here’s your chance.”
“I’ve decided I want to open a nursery.”
Aiden wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “A nursery?” He glanced at her stomach. “Are you pregnant?”
“What? No!” Laurel giggled. “Not a baby nursery. A plant nursery.”
He was both glad and a little disappointed to hear it, but he forced a grin. “That makes more sense. Is this the project you were working on the other morning?”
“Yes. I went to see Pandora and we found a few properties that could work. But I haven’t looked at any of them yet. If you have the time, I’d love to have you look at them with me.”
“I always have time for you.”
Aiden pulled her down into a kiss. Her hand went to his face, caressing the stubble on his cheek. They might have stayed that way the rest of the night, if not for the knock on the door.
“Someone has lousy timing,” Aiden said as Laurel rolled onto her back.
“We knew we had to face them eventually. Guess we have to traverse this wide-open space again.”
As she crawled away from him, he gave her a playful swat on the behind.
Another knock sounded and Aiden scooted off the side of the bed. “All right. I’m coming.”
The man outside was the same fellow that brought their bags to the room. His demeanor was formal, even though he wore jeans and a western-style shirt. Aiden suspected Rye was responsible for the wardrobe choice.
“Will you and the lady be ready for dinner in thirty minutes, Sir?”
“Yes. I’m Aiden, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Charles,” he said, then quickly added, “but Mr. Randall prefers to call me Chuck.”
Of course he did. “Thank you, Charles. We’ll be down soon.”
The butler smiled, nodded, then went down the hall.
Aiden shut the door and called out to Laurel. “Dinner is at six.”
She came out of the connecting bathroom. “Do you think we need to dress up for dinner?”
“Not unless you brought a silver-studded, denim dress with you.” He checked the time on his phone, then put it on the bedside table. “We’ve got 26 minutes to kill. What do you think about traversing this great plain of unexplored territory
?” He kneeled on the bed and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Laurel kneeled on the other side of the bed, and waggled her brows right back. “I think it would be a shame to waste the opportunity for some adventure.”
~ ~ ~
All the rooms they’d seen in the house so far seemed to follow the same theme: Western Grand. Everything in them was larger in scale than you’d expect, but the décor was tasteful, even homey. The dining room was no different. A long, rectangular table made of thick planks of dark wood was surrounded by sturdy wooden chairs with leather upholstered seats and backs. It was the kind of room that fit the occasion. With a bit of fancying up, it would be just as suitable for a black-tie event as it would for barbeque dinner with all the fixings. That night, to Aiden’s relief, it was barbeque.
Aiden and Laurel walked in just as Rye, who sat at the head of the table like a king holding court, wound up a story.
“So then I told him, sir, there are two kinds of people I want in my bar. And you ain’t either one of ‘em.” Rye smacked the table for emphasis and laughed along with everyone else.
“Sorry we’re late.” Aiden said. He and Laurel were the last ones to the table so they went to the two empty seats obviously designated for them. Right next to Rye.
“Not a problem, son. I remember being young and in love.” He looked at the woman beside him and squeezed her hand. “Now I’m old and in love, and I never miss a meal. Isn’t that right, Dani?”
“You’re not old. But that part about not missing a meal is dead on.”
Rye laughed again, then waved his hands over the plates of food crowded on the middle of the table. “Dig in, everybody. Don’t be shy if you don’t want to go hungry.”
The table was a flurry activity, except for Aiden. He couldn’t stop watching his mother. He’d never seen her so relaxed, so happy. And he’d certainly never heard anybody call her Dani before. His mother was too put-together and serious for such a playful nickname.
“Aiden, you have to try this.” Laurel held a platter of grilled corn on the cob under his nose. “It’s fabulous.”
He took some corn, then samples from the other bowls and platters. The food was delicious, and the conversation lively, but that didn’t stop him from watching the interaction between his mother and Rye.
When dinner was over, the whole group moved into the living room, settling on overstuffed chairs and sofas covered in various shades of soft denim. Laurel had just sat down when she jumped back up.
“Oh my gosh. Bailey. I forgot all about him. He’s probably starving.” She turned to Rye. “Do you know where he is?”
Rye grinned. “No need to worry about him, darlin’. He’s had his dinner and is getting acquainted with Lola.”
“Lola?”
“My dog. Beautiful golden Lab. I haven’t had her long, but she’s a sweetheart.” Rye dropped his voice to a raspy whisper. “If you ask me, I think he’s smitten.”
Laurel sat back down next to Aiden. “At least he’s enjoying himself.”
Aurora laughed. “Just so he doesn’t have too much fun. Is he fixed?”
“You mean you don’t know? I would have thought he’d told you during one of your chat sessions.”
“Excuse me.” Aurora flicked a wavy length of hair off her shoulder. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to connect with your animal friends.”
Laurel started to get up again, but Aiden grabbed her arm and eased her back down. “You two can put away the verbal swords for a while. We have a lot to talk about, so we’d better get started.”
“I agree.” Rye sat forward, elbows to knees and fingers steepled in front of him. “Dani, Aiden, I think the three of us should save our business for another time. No sense boring these good people with our own personal soap opera.”
Aiden and Danielle nodded in agreement.
“Good. That leaves us with the herd of stampeding pachyderms in the room. Did I murder Vance Perkins?”
“Of course you didn’t. Everybody knows that!” A young woman sailed into the room, looking ready to do battle with anyone who contradicted her.
“Rayne, what are you doing here?” Rye stood up and hugged her. “I didn’t expect you home until next week.”
“With everything that’s going on right now, I couldn’t wait that long.” She motioned around the room. “Who are these people?”
Aiden had already figured out who Rayne was, but he was interested to see how she’d react when she was introduced to him.
For a moment, Rye seemed unsure of himself. Then, he plunged in. “Everyone, this is my daughter, Rayne.”
A murmur of quiet exclamations went around the room.
Wade bumped Aurora with his shoulder. “We’re getting the soap opera after all.”
“Many branches a family tree has,” Aurora replied seriously.
“Thank you, fortune cookie Yoda.”
Aurora beamed at him. “Aw, I knew you’d get it.”
“Cut it out, you two.” Laurel hissed at them from the couch on the other side of the coffee table.
Rye continued the introductions, going around the room until he got to Danielle. “You know Dani. And this is Aiden.”
“My son,” Danielle said with a smile.
“Her son,” Rye repeated. “And, interesting story, my son.”
Rayne glared at her father. “Your son?”
“Yes.”
“Hey, Sis.” Aiden wiggled his fingers in greeting.
Wade whispered to Aurora, “I wish we had popcorn.”
Aiden turned to Danielle. “Are there any other surprise family members you want to tell me about?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Rayne stepped away from her father and waved her arms like a flagman on an aircraft carrier. “Wait a minute. Everybody quiet down.” She turned her attention to Aiden. “Nice to meet you and all that happy crap. I’m sure you’re very nice, but I’m too old to need a brother now.” She looked back at Rye. “Why are they here?”
“Rayne, you’re being rude. The people came all the way from Nocturne Falls, Georgia to help me with this legal mess.”
Rayne softened a bit. “I’m sorry, Daddy. But I’m worried about you. How can anybody help you if you can’t use your alibi?”
“That’s what we’re here to do,” Aiden said.
Understanding came over Rayne’s face. “Okay, you I understand, but, is everybody else here...you know.”
Aiden nodded. “Okay gang, sound off, one more time.”
“Nymph.” Laurel pointed at Aiden. “And I’m with him.”
Aurora grinned. “Free agent nymph, and her sister.”
“Shifter,” Wade said.
Rayne looked wary. “What kind?”
He lowered his glasses just enough for her to see his blue-on-blue eyes. “Snow leopard.”
“Cool.”
“Shifter,” Aiden said. “Bear. Obviously.”
Danielle was the last one left. “Just a plain, ordinary human here. But I know everything about everybody, so it’s okay.” She sighed and broke out in a huge smile. “What a relief it is to say that. I know what’s going on. I feel like a new person.”
Rand clapped his hands together. “Rayne, when you came in, we were starting to talk about Vance and the criminal case. Do you want to join us?”
“Are you kidding? Does a bear sing in the woods?” She dropped cross-legged on the floor, her back leaning against an empty chair.
Rye spoke up as they all sat down. “Before we continue, does anybody need anything? No? Okay.” He sat back in his chair. “The answer to the question, did I kill Vance, is an emphatic no. We had our differences, but I never wanted to kill him over anything.”
“Then why do the police suspect you?” Aiden asked.
Rye sighed. “Way back when we first started out, Vance and I were business partners. It was hard work, but we loved it. We were doing the thing we both loved, f
inding raw talent, publishing songs, we were helping musicians reach their dreams. Then, when it took off and we started making money, Vance changed. Nothing was ever enough. He wanted more money and more attention, and he wasn’t getting it. So one day, I came into the office and found he’d taken off with most of the bank account, half-a-dozen of our recording artists, and my secretary.”
“That’s terrible,” Laurel said. “How could he get away with that?”
“I learned a valuable lesson that day.” Rye leaned forward. “Never do business with a friend on nothing but a handshake and big ideas.”
“You didn’t have a contract?”
“No. Not between us. We had contracts with all our recording artists, so I could have gone after him for that, but I chose not to. It’s hard enough trying to make a living as a singer, I didn’t want to tie them all up in litigation for heaven knows how long. So,” he slapped his palms on his thighs, “Vance went his own way and started a new company. I almost lost everything, but after a lot of hard work I turned it around. Now my company makes Vance’s look like a hot dog stand.”
“Reap what you sow,” Danielle said.
“Karma,” Aurora said.
“Good business sense,” Wade said.
Rye chuckled. “Probably all of the above. But you can imagine there was no love lost between the two of us. Vance never missed a chance to bad-mouth me. We had more than one shouting match in public. But when he started messing with my artists, that was the last straw.”
“What did he do?” Aurora asked.
“Little things at first. When they sang in my bar, he’d sit in the audience and heckle them. He’d post bad reviews. Then it got worse. He was trying to poach some of my singers, but none of them would talk to him. Finally, when I caught him tampering with the sound system before a show, I’d had it. I filed a report with the police.”
“Shouldn’t that help him?” Laurel asked Aiden. “It proves he was trying to take care of things the right way.”
He thought for a moment. “Maybe. But it could also go toward proving motive. There’s documentation of increasing conflict between Rye and the deceased. They could make the case that Rye couldn’t take it anymore and lost control.” Aiden looked at Rye. “I got as much information about the case as I could, and it doesn’t look like they found any physical evidence tying you to the murder. Is that right?”