"What the fuck are you doing here, Link? I don't get you, man. We’ve been friends for years and you pull this kind of shit with my little sister-in-law?" Thomas spat the words out and balled his fist for another strike.
Link threw his arms up to protect his head and began to quickly plead his case, not sure how much time he'd have before Tommy beat the living snot out of him. Not that he would blame him, all things considered. "Tommy, it's not like it looks. I didn't set out to tape anything. I had nothing to do with this. I swear it. I just want to see Madison and explain."
Thomas struck the wall, smashing the plaster and sending drywall dust down onto Link. He shook the remnants off his fist and paused to consider Link’s words. "Why the fuck should I believe a bugger like you?"
"Because it's the truth. Remember that girl I’ve been talking about all week?" Link waited for his friend to give a perceptible nod and continued, "I was talking about Madison. I met up with her at Jerry's funeral and we’ve been hanging out. But I don't know who the fuck would have set up a camera. In fact who would've even known she'd be backstage at that show? I hadn't invited her to the back room. She showed up on her own, even conned her way past Jay. This whole thing just doesn't make sense."
Thomas reached his hand out to his friend and hauled Link to his feet. He shook his head and rubbed his reddened knuckles. "I guess I walloped you pretty good. You’ll be sporting quite the lovely shiner for a wee bit." Thomas gave him a half smirk. "I knew it would happen to you. I knew some lass would finally catch that roving eye of yours, but damn man, why did it have to be Isabel's Wee Moppet?” Thomas smiled and flicked some drywall dust out of Link’s hair.
“This thing really hurt her. I get that you care about her. Hell, you’ve been mooning over a girl all week, so the signs were all there. I can get over this whole media nightmare, but I don't know that Madison will. She was here, but she left—and not with you in her good graces." Tommy stepped back.
"I’m sorry this happened. I should have told you I was involved with Madison.” Link shook his head and dropped his gaze down to his boots. After a moment he offered his hand to Thomas and waited for him to take it in a tentative shake. “I'm trying to figure this out. I've got my lawyer contacting the news show to track down their source and get them to stop airing the footage. But honestly I can't imagine anybody in Zombie Punch wanting to set me up, so it has to be somebody else who was looking for something, somebody pretty fucking sick and evil." Link let go of Thomas’ hand and reached down to pick up the shattered vase.
"Sick and fucking evil certainly covers filming unsuspecting people and posting it on YouTube,” Thomas replied and let out a hollow laugh. “Sounds like my ex-wife Sasha. She's quite the monster. Trust me." He shook his blond head as if to clear the memory.
Link’s eyes widened and he stared up for a moment at the ceiling, lost in a memory. He slapped his palm against his face, uttering an oath as his hand touched the spot still smarting from Thomas’ punch. "Shit. I think I saw her there. I think she did it." Link rubbed his cheek.
"Bloody hell, I’ve brained the poor bastard. What are you talking about? Did I really hit you that hard?"
"Yes…no. Just hear me out because something is really off about this whole thing. Madison came backstage and we, well, you know, and she took off real fast. I wanted to follow her, get her to stay longer, but she'd vanished into the packed bar. But there was this woman there in the crowd trying to get backstage. Similar brown hair, tall, that looked a bit like her and I…I knew I recognized her, but it just didn’t click then. It was Sasha. I realize it now. I knew the chick looked familiar, but once I knew it wasn’t Madison I put it out of my head. Maybe Sasha had been trying to get back to see me? Could she be trying to find a way to get in touch with you through me?" Link hypothesized.
"I don't know. She's had no interest in seeing Christopher since she got out of lockup. Besides, she knows how to get ahold of me through my lawyer if she wanted to, so I don’t see what she'd gain by tracking you down. But if you say you saw her, I believe you. But trust me, it wasn’t an accident. Zombie Punch is really not her type of show so I doubt it was a coincidence, so I have to wonder if we haven't figured out who our monster is. But why the fuck would she be trying to get you on a spy cam?" Tommy ran his hand through his long hair before adding, "Come on in and have a pint." Thomas beckoned him to follow into the apartment. Link entered only to run into someone else who probably wanted to see his head on a platter—Isabel.
"Oh my goodness, what happened?" Isabel asked with genuine concern.
"Link’s pretty face ran into my fist but it’s all good. It may have knocked some sense into him," Thomas explained, finally looking cheerful.
"Damn it Thomas, didn’t you listen to a thing I said this evening? It's obvious Madison cares about him, and I never believed he set up that camera. Quit acting like little boys and figure it out." Isabel left the room for a moment only to return with a bag of frozen peas from the icebox. She tossed the bag to him, and he put the cold vegetable bag on his sore face.
“So what would Sasha have to gain by filming me hanging out with a bunch of guys from Zombie Punch? I know those guys all party and like to snort some lines, but that stuff hasn’t been my scene for years. Not since, you know, Chris died. Shit, Sasha doesn’t know that I don’t get high. Maybe she wanted to have some blackmail video like that thing that happened with Kate Moss caught doing lines at some party?” Link was getting a headache trying to figure this all out. Nothing made sense. Rachmaninoff’s “Isle of the Dead” ran through his head with all the darkness of the piece magnifying his fears.
“I gave up years ago trying to understand Sasha. Hell, I didn’t understand the bloody chit when we were married, never mind nine years later.” Thomas clinked his beer against Link’s and took a deep gulp, his eyes glancing about for his pregnant wife.
“She’s upstairs with Christopher; you can drink the beer without the guilty look. Damn, is this what love will turn me into—fearless in front of sixty thousand crazed, screaming fans, but hiding a pint in front of a woman?” Link laughed at his friend’s grimace and took a long swallow of his beer. He’d already changed so much about himself for fame; he couldn’t bear the thought of being someone he wasn’t with Madison.
Chapter 31
Madison
Madison drove her mother's old Honda Civic a few miles below the posted speed limit. The car was on its last legs and she didn't want to push it and wind up stuck in the middle of nowhere. She really didn’t have a destination in mind when she set out this afternoon, but after two and a half hours of driving, she figured out where she was going. Perhaps she'd known all along subconsciously, but needed some time to work it out. She was headed to a cabin deep in the woods on the Appalachian Trail. That’s where Isabel's father, Jerry, had taken the girls camping and hiking when they were young. Jerry had planned to only take Isabel, but Isabel had talked him into letting little Maddie tag along for the trips. The cabin was located two miles into the woods along a rough trail, and while it had no electricity, there was a working woodstove, hand pump sink, toilet, and a sleeping loft. The whole place was only about fourteen by fourteen. It could be reserved for people planning on hiking through the Appalachian Trail, which ran from Maine to Georgia. When the girls had camped there with Jerry they only ever walked the few miles to Bear’s Falls and back. It had mostly been a chance to sit around the fire, make camp food, and do a little fishing. When she realized that was where she was headed, she sent a text to Isabel, knowing that she'd be outside of cell service once she got there. Even the road that led to the trailhead was a long fifteen-mile single-lane gravel route into the middle of nowhere. Only a handful of houses on the entire drive gave any sign of habitation in the area.
Just before she turned onto the most isolated stretch of her journey she’d stopped off at a department store to pick up a few supplies: some basic groceries, blankets, and a deck of cards to play solitaire.
S
he'd gone straight to Isabel's house after Lori fired her. She wanted to get that over with rather than prolonging the whole ordeal. Besides, she needed to warn them that the press would be hounding them.
Isabel's reaction to the whole story had surprised her. Her sister had dried her tears, gave her a long reassuring hug, and reminded her that she loved her. She even told her she suspected something was going on between her and Link at the hospital visit. Isabel cast some doubt on Madison’s theory about Link setting up the sex camera as a publicity stunt. He was a skirt-chasing man-whore, but he’d never dragged anyone through the mud with him.
At first Madison thought she'd spend a few days hiding out amongst her family, but she worried that her presence there would just bring the paparazzi to Thomas and Isabel’s front door. That really wouldn't be fair to them or young Christopher. She even briefly considered flying down to Florida and hiding out at her mother's condo but quickly discarded that idea as ludicrous and too expensive. In the end she decided simply to borrow the keys to their mother's old car and go away for a long but cheap weekend. She would let things unravel and hope that the press would be bored of her by the time she came back.
She’d become quite numb to the hurt of the situation and didn't really react even when Thomas started ranting and raving, his accent getting so thick she couldn't understand what he was saying anymore. It was nice to know her brother-in-law felt so protective toward her; she just wasn't sure she wanted to be the cause of problems in the band. Link was an ass, but she’d jumped into things knowing full-well what he was like with women and felt she needed to take some responsibility in the matter. She just couldn't believe that he'd started to get under her skin so much.
Madison sang along with the radio only to quickly change the channel when she realized she'd been singing a Becket song. The next station had on a heavier sound that only made her remember seeing Link at the Mission. She punched the radio knob off.
It was just dusk by the time she parked the old Honda at the trailhead parking lot. Hers was the only car there, a bit surprising since it was late May and the weather was comfortable, but perhaps there’d be more hikers later in the weekend. She grabbed her giant purse, the two big shopping bags, and her overnight backpack, and began the walk along the trail. With any luck she would be there before full dark came, giving her time to set up the lantern and get a little fire going prior to the chill of evening setting in.
Chapter 32
Link
Link nursed his beer in Isabel and Thomas's kitchen while Tommy anxiously made phone calls trying to figure out if Sasha was behind the tape. Isabel breezed in and out of the kitchen, at times pacing the room listening to her husband's clipped accent on the phone and other times wandering into the family room, seemingly to check on her stepson. The doorman had already called up to inform them that the paparazzi were parked outside the building.
He had so hoped that Madison would be there when he arrived. And now he had no idea where to look. Isabel had only been able to tell him that Madison said she wanted to go away for a few days and hide from the press and attention. Apparently even Isabel didn't know where her sister was. What did surprise him was Isabel's acceptance of him. Shouldn't she have wanted his balls too? She just seemed comfortable with the thought of him with her sister. He explained things to her as best he could and confessed his deep affection for Madison. Affection seemed like such a small word, but he wasn't ready to utter those other words yet.
His own cell phone had been going off every few minutes, leaving him frustrated. He would have turned it off if he hadn't had the tiniest flicker of hope that one of the calls might be Madison—even if she was calling just to cuss him out—so he kept it on and checked the caller ID at each of the rings. There had been calls from his manager, his lawyer, and now, calls from Guitar God Magazine to nag him about the interview he had scheduled for tomorrow. The call that really set his blood pressure soaring had been from his father congratulating him on getting so much free publicity. His old man was thrilled that each news story included a line about Link being scheduled to go back to the studio and record Becket’s sixth album. His father had gloated in his message that he thought for sure they’d be asked to play the Grammy’s again next year. In fact, the damn coot even had hopes for a Super Bowl performance. How could that man not understand how unimportant all that was to him right now? All he cared about was talking to Madison and begging her forgiveness. Not forgiveness for the tape or the sex, but that she got dragged into a mess because of his fame.
When a cell phone let out a peep and a vibrating noise, he reflexively looked down at his own device. Nothing popped up on the screen. He swung his head to the side to see Isabel tapping buttons on her iPhone and letting out a sigh. He watched her type some sort of response and waited with bated breath. Her face gave little away. Finally she returned his gaze and pursed her lips in contemplation. She rested a hand on her swollen belly and watched his face carefully.
"If I tell you where Madison went, and you go there and she wants you to leave, do you promise to do what she wishes?" Isabel asked him sternly.
"Of course, I just really want the chance to apologize and try and make this right any way I can. So please, please tell me where she's gone," Link pleaded with her, hoping she’d take mercy on him and break her own sister's confidence.
Isabel let out a sigh and reached for a paper and a pen. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She seemed to be talking more to herself so he didn't respond. "She's gone to the old cabin on the Connecticut and Massachusetts border, part of the Appalachian Trail. It's a place my dad used to take us when we were kids. I'll warn you, there's no electricity and at least a two-mile hike to the log cabin from the road. Are you sure you want to go after her?" Isabel watched him.
"Absolutely, please. Just give me some directions and I'm there. Okay, maybe a flashlight too." Link was on his cell phone to Jay requesting a supply list that probably had his bodyguard questioning his employer’s sanity. Hell, at this point Link was questioning his own sanity. He’d grown up in the suburbs and moved to the city early on. He didn't know anything about hiking, camping, or the outdoorsy-type life. Were there bears in the woods this time of year? What about mountain lions or coyotes? He could only hope that Madison had arrived at the described cabin before darkness fell. Based on the directions Isabel provided, it looked like he wouldn't make it there until close to midnight. His first camping trip was shaping up to be a doozy.
* * * *
Within the hour Jay had dropped Link’s Range Rover off with the requested supplies packed in its roomy cargo hold. Link gave Jay the next few days off and told him roughly where he was going just in case. Obviously Jay had a sense of humor since he had thrown in a fishing pole and tackle box. Link wasn't sure he'd even know how to hook a worm. He wasn't sure he’d even find worms, even this late in spring. Didn't they come out only in the summer?
He made one last call before pulling out of the garage. He needed to let his manager know that he’d be blowing off the interview and be away for a few days. Bethany was apoplectic at the thought and basically screamed at him for the entire four minutes of the call. She basically told him that he was crazy and he needed to stay and ride the whole mess out in New York, not go chasing after a girl.
He hung up on her.
Chapter 33
Madison
Madison's eyes popped open and she glanced around the pitch-black room. There, she heard it again. It was a scuffling noise somewhere outside. She was about to roll over and go back to sleep when a beam of light flashed through the small loft window and attracted her attention. Shit, somebody was out there. She sat up on the cozy platform bed and threw the covers to the side. A snapping branch and a short slew of muffled profanities greeted her ears. Whoever was out there in the black of night was either drunk or an idiot. They had to be since it was after midnight with little moon in the sky. Nobody should be hiking at this hour. Adrenaline started to flow in her veins, and she r
eached for her flashlight. Cautiously, she began the short climb down the ladder to the main area of the cabin.
The cheery flames showing through the window of the wood stove comforted her. It was almost too warm in this part of the cabin. She crept closer to the wood stove and grabbed a long, thin log from the pile of wood she'd housed there earlier in the evening. She stood by the tiny front door, log in hand, ready to swing at anyone foolish enough to come through that door. She choked up a bit on the log, heaving it up over her shoulder like a baseball bat. She worked to keep her breathing shallow and quiet to avoid giving any warning to a possible attacker. She could only hope it was some fool planning on walking to Sage’s Ravine to camp for the night. Or to go sleep off too much drink by the sound of the stumbling she heard out there.
Someone was climbing the two short steps onto the porch. Whoever it was shined their flashlight in through the bottom window, but she kept just to the side and out of view. Seconds later she watched as the knob turned on the door, and it squeaked heavily on old hinges. Her heart was hammering now as she estimated the height at which the head of her assailant would likely be as he walked through the door. Madison tightened her hold on the log and swung with all her might. Her intruder stumbled over the threshold dropping what looked to be duffel bags just as the log cracked against the door frame above his head sending broken bits of bark spraying about. She looked down to her feet, quickly identifying her would-be attacker.
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