Adam’s clenched fist shot through the television screen. Sparks showered upward. Blood spattered in all directions. Pain shot up his arm. The pain was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Izzie growled, the pups scurrying about his feet. He knew he should blow the whistle, but he didn’t have the strength. “It’s what it is, gang. We’re going to deal with it the best way we know how.” He bent down to pick up Dallas Six to cuddle next to his cheek. “He didn’t even get to meet you. Son of a fucking bitch!” He set the pup down next to Izzie as he raced through the house, pulling plugs and closing the blinds. He checked the locks one last time. He took a long moment to stare at the Christmas tree and then the stockings hanging from the mantel. His eyes smarting with unshed tears, he removed the homemade stocking and carried it out to his luggage. He jammed it into his carry-on bag and didn’t know why.
Tom Silk knocked on the kitchen door. “I got here as fast as I could. There’s a whole gaggle of media out front. I pulled around the back. If we move fast, we should be able to outrun them. You take the bags, and I’ll take the pups. Izzie will follow us. Jesus, a man could go to war with less than these dogs have. Move, move, I got it covered. I do this for a living, remember?”
The pups squealed and yelped as Tom spread everything out in the back of his rickety van. The whistle sounded every two seconds until the pups were so confused they lay down in their beds. Izzie hovered but calmed when Adam crooned to her from his seat in the front of the van.
“Show time!” Tom bellowed, as he peeled away from the curb, his worn tires squealing. “Oh, shit, they spotted us.”
“I’ll pay for the tickets,” Adam said.
“What does worth my while mean, Mr. Lord?”
“It means name your price. In other words, money is no object.”
“Ah. Listen, I’m . . .”
“I know. I’d rather we didn’t talk about it. I’m strung real tight. I can’t talk about my brother right now.”
Tom settled his worn baseball cap more securely on his head. “So, how’d it go last night?”
Last night, if you discounted his stocking stuffing, was safe ground. “I guess you mean the dogs. The pups slept like you said they would. Six had an accident. He was the last to go through the doggie door and I guess he couldn’t wait. Actually it wasn’t the doggie door at all. I had the big door open and he couldn’t do the step or get over the hump. It worked out. Izzie got a little upset. It’s what it is. She slept with me, even used one of the pillows. Guess that means she trusts me just the way you said.”
“Nah. That’s little stuff: You’ll know it when it happens. Do you mind if I call you Adam? That mister stuff isn’t what I’m all about. I hate all that formal crap. Man, you couldn’t have gotten me at a better time. Business is really slow. No one wants to lay out money for dogs when the holidays are around the corner. Mitzi, she’s my girlfriend, fiancée actually, anyway she wasn’t real happy but she understood. Do you have a place in LA?”
“No. We’ll be staying at my brother’s house in Mandeville Canyon. It’s all fenced in. Top-of-the-line security. I don’t know how long this is going . . . what I mean is ...”
“I know what you mean, Adam. My time is yours. Don’t worry about the dogs. As long as they see you, and you spend some time with them, things will work out. This is the right thing you’re doing. We’re coming up to the airport turnoff. You’ll have to direct me from here. I don’t travel in the circles you do, and my knowledge of chartered private planes is nil. Do I do long-term or what?”
“You go out on the tarmac. Someone will drive the van back and park it. You can call your girlfriend from the plane and tell her where to pick it up. After they call us.”
“What’s it like to be rich?” There was no envy, only curiosity in Tom’s voice.
“It has its own set of problems. I probably have more sleepless nights than you do. Did. Lately I’ve been sleeping rather well. That’s just another way of saying it isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. I think I was happier when I was struggling. When you get to the top you think you’re on Easy Street. You aren’t. That’s when the real devil kicks in and you have to kick, claw, and scratch to stay there. Once you slip it’s all downhill, and you don’t have the stamina to climb back up. It’s a goddamn rat race is what it is. The faster you run, the bigger the rats.”
“I’m sorry I asked. There’s your plane. What now, coach?”
“I’m not an expert at this even though you might think I am. Stay with the dogs until I speak with someone. I’ll take the bags out. You travel light I see.”
“What you see is what you get. I told you, I’m not fancy. When you work with animals it’s got to be wash-and-wear. Am I going to be an embarrassment?”
“Hell no. It’s okay, Izzie, I’ll be right back. You and the pups are coming, too, girl.”
“I need some help here.”
The flight crew stood on the stairs, their eyes on Tom Silk and the yipping, yowling puppies.
The pilot stepped forward. “John La Crosse, Mr. Lord. I’ll be your pilot this morning. This is Michael Trainer my copilot. To my left are Tracy Blevins and Marie Landry. Nobody said anything about a bunch of dogs.”
“With the money I’m paying for this flight nobody had better say a word about these dogs. Where I go, they go.” He stretched the truth a bit when he said, “They’re trained.”
“They’ll have to go in cargo.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “We’re all going first-class. It’s a long trip and I’m in a bit of a hurry, so let’s cut the bullshit and get airborne. While you’re doing whatever it is you have to do perhaps one of these nice ladies will get us some coffee, and not that coffee you run through those rusty pipes inside the galley. Now! Please have someone bring our baggage aboard.”
“Who does that fucking guy think he is?” the copilot hissed to the stewardess.
“I’m the fuck who’s paying you to fly me to California, so let’s do it. Now, get the hell out of my way so my dogs can get on this plane.”
“He’s Dallas Lord’s brother. Show a little compassion. All you have to do is look at Mr. Lord to know he’s a basket case. Once a jerk, always a jerk,” the young stewardess sniffed.
“Jesus, now you tell me.”
“A little kissing up goes a long way.” The stewardess sniffed again.
The moment the plane was airborne, Adam moved to the back of the plane. “I have a lot of thinking to do, Tom. I’d appreciate it if you’d stay up front with the pups.”
“Sure. Is there anything I can do?”
“If there was, I wouldn’t hesitate to ask. I’m thankful you’re here. I have a feeling those two hostesses are going to play with the pups all the way to LA. It’s a long flight, so kick back. Don’t forget to call your girlfriend. The stewardesses should know where your van is parked.”
Adam leaned back in his seat. Think business now. Forget for the moment that Dallas is your brother. Make a plan. Think in terms of damage control. Think, think, think. Dallas’s death is the biggest thing since Elvis’s demise. Don’t make the same mistakes Colonel Parker and Elvis’s entourage made. Don’t let this turn into a media circus. Think, plan. Plan and think. What’s the best way to handle this? What would Dallas want?
Dallas would want the whole three-ring circus. The circus wasn’t going to happen. He’d see to that. He needed to think about the band and what would be best for all of them. More important, he had to think about where to bury Dallas. They’d never discussed death, so it had to be his decision. Once, years ago, the guys had been talking about cremation, and Dallas had said, “What a way to go. You just go up in smoke and your ashes get carried all over the world.”
Maybe he needed to think along those lines. How in the name of God was he going to burn his brother’s already burned body till nothing was left but his ashes? How could he fit him into a box and then bury it six feet under the ground? How? How did other people do it? People did it because there were no othe
r options. A mausoleum above ground might be a possibility. Dallas would still be locked in a box inside a concrete structure. Dallas, free spirit that he was, would hate it.
Adam switched his thought to financial matters. Dallas had a fifty-million-dollar life insurance policy with Lloyds of London with a million dollars going to each band member who had been part of the Canyon River Band for ten years. Nancy would get Billy Sweet’s share. As executor and beneficiary of his brother’s will and estate, Adam stood to inherit everything, right down to the insurance on the January Far East tour. The Asians had kicked up a fuss about the policy, but in the end they’d come around when he’d shown them it was standard fare where the Canyon River Band was concerned. So much money.
Adam squeezed his eyes shut. No amount of money could make up for the loss of his brother. He just had to do the right thing for everyone involved. He shuddered when he thought of what lay ahead of him.
Sara rolled over, snuggling into the softness of her nest. Normally she was a sound sleeper, waking a minute or so before her alarm went off. She hadn’t set the alarm last night when she returned from Dallas’s house. She cracked one eye to stare across the room at the closed window blind. It was still dark out. Rolling over a second time afforded her a look at the bright red digital numbers on the bedside clock: 5:30. The flashing light beneath the time said it was December 10.
Sara rolled over on her back and laced her hands behind her head. Even. though she was awake, she didn’t have to get up. She could stay in bed until noon if she wanted to. There was nothing on her agenda today except a trip to town to pick up her wedding suit. Carly’s mint green outfit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow. Maybe she should wait until then and pick both up at the same time. But then what would she do with herself all day? She closed her eyes remembering Dallas’s poignant good-bye at the gates. She looked at the clock again. His plane would be landing in Vegas any minute now. He’d called just after takeoff.
Damn, she might as well get up. If she didn’t, she’d lie here and think about the possibility that she was making the biggest mistake of her life. Or she was making the one decision that would guarantee her a lifetime of happiness. On the other hand, if she got up and went downstairs, she’d have to face the worry in Carly’s eyes. Hunger and the need for her caffeine fix won out. She could be out of the house by nine to finish up her Christmas shopping. Dallas had given her a roll of hundred-dollar bills that was so huge, so thick, that her purse wouldn’t close. He’d asked her shyly to buy some presents for the guys in the band as well as his backup singers. He’d gone on to say when he got back they’d have a whiz-bang Christmas party on the twenty-first of December for the whole band. It was her job to get the tree and hire a florist to decorate the house. Then, he’d said, on the evening of the twenty-third, they were going to Charleston to spend Christmas with Adam. She didn’t think it was a good idea, but Dallas had won her over, and she’d finally agreed. To say she was dreading the visit would be the understatement of the year.
Dressed in the ratty flannel robe that she’d had since her first year of college, Sara puttered around the kitchen mixing the batter for pancakes, frying bacon, and perking coffee. Breakfast was her favorite meal of the day; Carly’s, too.
While the bacon drained, Sara turned on the seven-inch television set Carly kept on the counter to hear the early-morning weather reports. Carly was big on raincoats and umbrellas and liked to be prepared for all kinds of weather conditions. She on the other hand, couldn’t care less, but voices in the kitchen this early in the morning sounded comforting. To her it was like having a real family who talked about the day’s up coming events.
She didn’t want to be an old maid. An old-maid professional. An old maid doctor. It was time for lights and sounds and people in her life. Nellie and Carly were both right. She needed a life. Dallas Lord was going to give her the kind of life people only dreamed about. Her heart skipped a beat and then another. Life was going to be so good.
Sara rubbed at the corner of her eye. I wish I knew if Dallas loved me. He cares, I know that. But, I want to hear the words. I need to hear the words.
Would he say them at some point? They could be wonderful companions for one another. Tina Turner was right, what did love have to do with anything anyway? She’d had love not once, not twice, but three times, and what did it get her? Heartache and misery, that’s what. At least she knew where she stood with Dallas. Things would be in the open, and there would be no pretense. Life would be whatever she made of it. And that wasn’t so bad.
“What are you doing up so early, Sara? You should be sleeping till noon these days,” Carly said. “Ah, pancakes. My favorite. Are we having warm blueberry syrup and melted butter?” She snitched a slice of bacon and danced away as Sara was about to swat her hand with the spatula. “Oh, oh, listen. There’s been another plane crash. Shhh, I want to hear.” Carly turned the volume louder on the small television set.
“How many pancakes, Carly?”
“Shhh. I think you better turn off the griddle and come here, Sara.”
“You listen for both of us. I hate seeing stuff like that. How many pancakes, Carly?”
“Sara, get over here!”
Sara wiped her hands on the towel she was holding. “All right! Is it someone we know? Oh, dear God!”
“You can handle this, Sara. Take deep breaths. That’s good. Now, drink this,” Carly said, her own face as white as her sister’s. Her hand when she handed over the glass of brandy was just as shaky as Sara’s.
Shaken, Sara clutched the squat glass of apricot brandy, her knuckles whiter than snow. Coughing and sputtering, she gulped at the fiery liquid. “Maybe there is some kind of horrible mistake. Dallas called me from the plane. He was so excited about everything. How can he be . . . dead?”
Carly poured coffee. Her voice was quiet, hushed, when she said, “There is no mistake, Sara. The crash is on every single news channel. A reporter from CNN was in Vegas on vacation. They broke the story first. Think, Sara, should we be doing something? Do you think we should go up to his house? When Mom and Dad died you handled everything. I don’t know what . . . maybe we should call Nellie. She’s good with . . . you know, times like this.”
Sara stared off into space. Her gaze seemed to be fixed on the clock over the refrigerator. “Get my purse, Carly, and bring the battery-operated recorder in the desk. I want to play something for you.”
Carly returned to the kitchen within minutes. She watched as her sister fit the small cassette in the machine. She listened, her eyes filling with tears. When the machine shut off, she said, “Sara, that was so beautiful.”
“Dallas told me I shouldn’t play this for anyone. I think he meant . . . while he was . . . alive. It was supposed to be our song. You know, just for us alone. He even gave it a title, ‘Sara’s Song.’ He said maybe when we were old he’d release it. It was supposed to be my wedding present.”
Carly sat down opposite Sara. She leaned across the table. “I can’t think of anything more beautiful or wonderful. Yesterday it was worth millions. Today . . . today it just became priceless.”
Sara wiped at the tears on her cheeks with the napkin clutched in her hand. “What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t mean to sound crass. What I meant was you have something in your hand that is priceless. You should probably put it in the vault. Playing it now will only make things worse. That’s what you’re going to do, right, play it over and over?”
“He can’t be dead, Carly. Dallas was the most alive person I ever met. Being a doctor, I know how fragile life can be. He lived each day the way most people only dream of living. He was so excited because he and Adam had this really great conversation. We were . . . going to go to South Carolina to spend Christmas with him.”
“What are you going to do about Dallas’s brother?”
“Do?”
“Yes, do? He’ll be flying in soon, you can bet on that. Are you going to go up there? You know, introduce y
ourself, ask if there is anything you can do?”
“No. I’d just be in the way. I really don’t think I can handle any of that right now. It would just be a reminder of what might have been. We don’t want our lives invaded. Maybe we should think about going somewhere for a little while. Something has been hanging over my head for a month now. Dallas ... what he did . . . said was, he had this eerie feeling that Billy was always with him, waiting. He said ‘waiting,’ Carly. Like, you know, he had this premonition. He really spooked me. Most times I could jolt him out of it when it looked to me like he was becoming, for want of a better word, obsessed. I’m just so relieved that he made things right with his brother. For Adam’s sake as much as his own.”
Both women jerked upright in their chairs when the phone on the wall behind Sara shrilled to life. Neither made a move to answer it. Finally, Carly reached for the phone. She muttered a cautious, “Hello.”
“It’s Nellie,” she whispered. Sara shook her head.
“She’s devastated, Nellie. No, we’re fine. Of course we’ll call. I’ll stay with her all day. I’ll have Sara call you later.”
Carly put down the phone and turned to her sister. “Don’t make a liar out of me, Sara. Be sure to call Nellie later.”
“Carly.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know . . . what I mean is, I’m not sure I was in love with Dallas. I loved him. Being in love is different than loving someone. He ... I think he felt the same way. There were days when I was sure I was in love. Then there were days when I was sure I wasn’t in love. Maybe I don’t know what love means. God, I feel like someone wrenched out my guts. He said we didn’t have to pretend with each other. He was going to build me a hospital. I let him convince me that life was going to be beautiful from here on in. He wasn’t going to tour anymore. Cutting records, doing a benefit every so often, was his way of cutting back. He said he’d be home for supper every night. We were going to get some-pets and maybe think about adopting an older child. Not right away, though. He really loved this house. He wanted to know everything about us when we were growing up and where we all fit. Like where did we have the Christmas tree, where did we play our games, that kind of thing. He was so different. So sweet, so gentle, so very kind.” Tears flooded Sara’s eyes as she struggled with her emotions.
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