Tudor Rose (The Tudor Dynasty Series)

by Salisbury, Jamie

  Chapter Two

  The beginning of the tour is crazy as usual. I had forgotten how hectic things could be. The Staples Center sold out an hour after tickets went on sale. I once again thank my lucky stars, or whatever, that I am not involved in the madness.

  Among the VIP guests tonight are William and Grace Tudor. A long standing tradition of theirs is to attend the opening concert, it’s their way of showing support for their sons. They’re not hard to cater to, unlike the parents of many celebrities, who want to be in the middle of everything. Their only desire is to visit Amadeus and wish him and his band well. They don’t stick around after the show or attend the after-parties. Instead, they return to their hotel room and become invisible before returning to their lives.

  I volunteer to hang with them tonight, a familiar face. Since I’m not involved in the details of running this show, I can kick back with them, and I can’t wait. I wonder what kind of response I’ll get. I hate having to lie to them, but they will only worry about Amadeus if they are privy to the real reason I’m there.

  I meet up with them as they arrive from their hotel. Artie makes sure a limo picks them up and brings them to the arena where they are met and ushered backstage. I enter the dressing room they are waiting in with a knock. Grace just walks up smiling with her arms extended. She is the epitome of elegance and refinement, soft spoken, well educated, just as I remember, her having always reminded me of Jacqueline Kennedy or Grace Kelly.

  “Zara, we understand you and Amadeus are together! I told William I wasn’t surprised, given all the time the two of you spent together over the years. Let me look at you. It’s been an eternity!”

  William interjects before I can answer, rolling his eyes. “That’s Grace, Zara, straight to the point.”

  “It’s okay. And yes far too long has passed. I’ve missed you both, I hadn’t realized how much.” I hug them and continue. “Amadeus and the boys are down the hall. Artie finally got everyone out of the room so that they could have some quiet time. If you’re ready, we’ll meet up with him, afterwards, we can make our way to the sky box to enjoy the show.”

  “A box?” William inquires.

  “Yep, one of the perks of doing a show in a large arena, usually with a huge spread of food, and you can enjoy everything a little more comfortably.”

  “Well, let’s get started,” he laughs and holds the door open for us.

  We walk down the passage and find where Amadeus and his close knit band are situated. It is fairly quiet until we enter the room. Everyone stops to welcome the elder Tudor‘s. The young men are like extended family to the Tudor’s. As with the three sons they raised and encouraged in the entertainment industry, Grace and William think no differently of the other band members. I sit down and enjoy the reunion unfolding before me like I’m watching for the first time. The inevitable is coming though.

  “So, now you two,” Grace begins, “how long has this been going on? Or did we just overlook it?

  I jump in with a mentally prepared answer, “Not until after the last tour. We stayed in touch, and one thing led to another.”

  “Yep,” Amadeus agrees, his arm tightly holding on to me, “and once this tour started to unfold we decided since Zara wasn’t working she should join me on the road and see how things develop.”

  Grace looks both of us over, first Amadeus, then me and back to Amadeus. “I expect when you’re in Seattle, Amadeus, you and Zara will join us for dinner. Your schedule indicates you will be in town for a couple of days. So don’t forget.”

  Amadeus grins at his mother and replies with a mock salute, “Yes, ma’am!”

  Grace throws her son her best scowl and lands a blow on his arm.

  Artie pokes his head in to give us the signal to get up to the box. Amadeus takes things a step further and kisses me in front of his parents as we leave.

  We arrive at the sky box and settle in before the show. We find our seats in front of the enormous window and take in the massive crowd below. I am totally immersed in people watching when a voice behind me asks if I’d like something to drink. I turn and standing in person is the guy from the beach. I try not to appear startled and nod. All the time I’m making mental notes to myself. I manage to snap a picture of him with my cell phone from across the room. I text Artie, forward the photo, and tell him to be on the lookout for this guy, in case he shows up back stage.

  Grace picks up on my change in attitude.

  “Everything all right, Zara?” she asks.

  “Yes, yes. I forgot I was supposed to let Artie know once we’ve settled in.”

  The rest of the night seems as though it will never end. Tudor Rose‘s performance is stellar, but I might be a bit prejudiced.

  After the show, I walk William and Grace to the limo that will take them back to their hotel. Grace hugs and enters the car, but not before I promise we’ll see them in Seattle. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find Artie and mention my concerns to him. We meet back stage in the dressing room Tudor Rose had used earlier. Amadeus is following behind as we enter.

  I convey the encounter with the gentleman in question. How I’d seen him on the beach and then again tonight at the arena. For the time being this will be treated as a coincidence. Artie agrees to check with the arena’s catering service, using the photo I took to find out whether he is employed by them. If he isn’t, we’ll be extra vigilant and on the lookout for him.

  The after party is packed and noisy, with an extraordinary amount of people. Conversation with anyone is difficult. I hold on to Amadeus’ arm as we weave our way through the crowd so we don’t get separated. Finally, he grabs my hand, looking back at me he smiles and slows his pace to accommodate the shorter steps I take. He and his band mates give each other a sign indicating they’re all ready to leave.

  The two of us climb into a waiting limo and head back to Malibu, neither of us saying a word. He’s seated on my left, his long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes are closed, unaware he’s being studied. Amadeus breaks the silence with his rendition of an old Janis Joplin song, knowing I won’t be able to maintain a straight face. I burst out laughing half way through the first verse. His total annihilation of the song lightens our mood. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, drawing me close, kissing my face before placing a soft kiss on my lips.

  Driving up, I note that the house is all lit up. I turn to Amadeus and ask him whether he left any lights on or if there is a timer. He shakes his head of dark hair. I don’t possess a good feeling about this, and I nervously take a quick look back over at him before we get out of the limo.

  Amadeus opens the front door and walks in first. I follow close behind. We reach the living room and find the sliding glass doors wide open. The room appears not to have been disturbed. We continue through the first floor and find not a thing out of the ordinary. Climbing the stairs we make our way to the bedrooms. To our horror, two seem to be ransacked. Clothes thrown throughout the rooms, contents of suitcases tossed about like trash, drawers pulled from the dresser and scattered.

  “We need to get out of the house, alert the authorities.” He nods his head in agreement. I start to pick up a favorite top, which is ripped, off the ground, but he grabs me before I can.

  “Don’t touch anything. Come on, let’s go.” He leads me away from the scene, down the stairs and outdoors. The idea of somebody having been through our things almost makes me sick.

  Once outside I contact the local police. Amadeus is pacing nervously around the drive, impatiently waiting for the authorities. I sit on a small concrete bench located next to the front door. They pull up minutes later and we talk with an investigator while his officers are in surveying the scene. I reveal to him the reason I think someone wishes to harm Amadeus as I begin to tell him about the mysterious man. I show him the photo I took earlier, and he asks me to forward the picture to his phone.

  As I’m talking with him, I realize Artie is here. Amadeus probably called him. The two of them walk ove
r toward us and Artie introduces himself.

  “Mr. Bowman, I was asking Ms. Middleton if she and Mr. Tudor could identify what may be missing.”

  Amadeus interjects before anyone can answer. “We turned around and got out as soon as we discovered the bedrooms had been trashed.”

  “Okay, I need the two of you to go inside and determine if anything’s missing. Obviously who ever broke in was after something specific.”

  We agree and walk into the house. I leave Amadeus at the doorway of his bedroom and enter the room where I have my things. The police aren’t far behind, each of them walking between rooms, waiting to see what we might find.

  I don’t know how to make sense of the chaos around me, but I start looking for obvious items anyone could take. The bag with my laptop is not sitting next to the bedside table where I left it, and is nowhere to be found. It’s gone.

  “Artie!” I call out. They all run into the room. I sit down on the bed, as this is something I’m not prepared for.

  “Zara? What?” Artie shouts. “What’s missing?”

  “The laptop, it was in my satchel along with the planner and address book I keep.”

  “Show me the last place you had the bag,” the detective says.

  “Next to the night stand,” I answer, pointing to the spot I had last seen the satchel. The three men look around the room.

  “Anything else?”

  “No. Strange, but whoever took my laptop left my camera bag.” I point toward my camera bag, which is larger than most because of all the lenses and accessories I carry, and is sitting in the exact spot I left it. “Amadeus, what about you?”

  He shakes his head and sits down next to me on the bed. “No, I’m not finding anything missing.”

  The hour is quite late by now, we’re departing in just a couple of hours, and we haven’t slept.

  Chapter Three

  I for one am glad Los Angeles is in the rear view mirror. The convoy pulls out at dawn. Too keyed up from the break in, sleep is impossible. We straighten the bedrooms up and repack our personal items, the majority of our luggage is in its place on the truck. Sleeping on a bus or an airplane is an exercise I can‘t master, but today, no problem, I’m exhausted.

  Ahead of our departure, Artie and I get Red, the tour manager and tell him what happened. I have always wondered why this goliath of a man is called Red as he doesn’t have crimson hair. He’s been in charge of Tudor Rose’s last three tours. Despite all of his duties, he’s one of the most observant people in a world where others would reveal what appears to be insignificant events and either drop or not pick up on subtle details. We leave Red more at ease than we had before.

  Artie isn’t coming along. He will meet up with us in some of the larger cities. We say our good-byes and I climb on Amadeus’ tour bus. Tudor Rose uses two buses, one for Amadeus and the other for the rest of the band and crew.

  Amadeus is inside, seated at a table reading a newspaper, drinking coffee. He’s always been a news junkie, keeping himself up to date on current events. I walk over and sit down across from him as the coach begins to move.

  “Everything okay?” I nod my head as I’m scanning the bus. It’s quiet, no one with us except the driver. I notice he’s someone who’s been with Amadeus before. It’s not surprising that Amadeus’ crew has been with him for years, he’s not a prima donna, making everyone’s job that much easier.

  Amadeus holds up a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee. “This what you’re looking for?” He grins at me as he passes the steaming beverage my way. As I reach for it, he lays his fingers on top of mine before releasing the mug to me. I encounter an old feeling running through me at his touch.

  “Thanks,” I reply.

  “That stuff will stunt your growth you know.” he teases.

  “Yes, but it’ll be worth every inch and I don’t see you practicing what you preach.” I sit back in my seat trying to appear smug.

  Finally, I put the cup down. “Amadeus, you have to get some sleep before we arrive this afternoon. Chaos will ensue after that.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll try and nap over in one of those.” I point over to the large chair across from us.

  He leans over the table toward me. “No, I don‘t think so, Zara” He sits back now, a smug grin on his face. His dark hair framing his features fully.

  “What do you have in mind, A?” ‘A’ is a nickname he’s had for years and only close friends or family use it or even know it.

  “Come and I’ll show you,” he answers, rising from his spot.

  I get up and follow him to the private suite at the rear of the bus. He closes the door. The room is well thought out, containing a bed with a dressing area. Not as fancy as other buses, but it serves the purpose.

  Amadeus sits on the side of the bed, removing his shoes. He pats a spot next to him. I sit down, the exhaustion creeping in.

  “Come on, Zara, this is a huge bed and as much as I would like to, um, we both need to sleep.”

  I remove my shoes. He has moved up on the bed, taking pillows and moving to one side. I make myself comfortable, watching him. He seems to be amused. He’s always teased me. All I know is I want to sleep. Of course, he isn’t finished.

  “Zara, I thought you liked being alone with me.” He laughs as he pokes a finger at me.

  “Amadeus?”

  “Yeah, what?” He’s having way too much fun with this.

  “Shut up and go to sleep.” I pick up one of the pillows and hit him, and then I lie down and turn over. I can’t look at him. My face will betray me.

  Sometime later I wake. I hope we’ve slept more than an hour or two. I haven’t moved since I fell asleep. Amadeus is directly behind me, an arm tightly encircling me. This is pleasant, I think to myself. I lay motionless and as I begin to move, the embrace tightens.

  “Hello sleepy head.”

  “What time is…?” I inquire, enjoying our closeness.

  “Late. Did it help?”

  “Too soon to tell. Have you been awake long?” I ask him.

  “No.” His arm still holding me, he pulls me back against him. We lay in silence for a moment. I recognize the warmth of his lips kissing my neck and ear. His hand is caressing my breast. I moan as he moves under the shirt and bra, exploring his prize.

  “Zara,” he whispers, pulling me closer against his chest. “I want you, baby.”

  “Mmmmm, yes,” I reply. “I want you too.”

  He leans over and covers my mouth with his slowly, the intensity growing. Neither of us utters a word, until the bus comes to a stop, breaking the magic between us.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, aware we’ve reached our destination or close to it. He stares down at me as if he wants advice. “I don’t believe this.”

  Kissing him, I put myself back together, but before he opens the door, he bends closer and whispers, “We will continue this in a more proper setting later.” I smile and follow him.

  We’re stuck on the coach waiting until all is in order, and we know exactly where we will stay. Neither of us has eaten and it could be a while, but A has a plan.

  “You hungry, Zara? There are some pastrami sandwiches in the fridge with our names on them.”

  Pastrami, Amadeus’ favorite sandwich. He’ll search a city out to find the best deli when on tour.

  “Sounds good.” I start toward the door, Amadeus in tow.

  I walk to the kitchenette area and open the refrigerator. I spy the sandwiches in a bag and hand them to him as I grab a couple of bottles of water. We sit at the table eating in silence.

  “Well, what do you think, Zara? What’s the game plan for tonight?”

  I glance over at him, trying to get a handle on his emotions. “Red will go over the site and report his findings, if any, back to me. Everyone is going to be watching out for that fella.”

  “And?” he asks quietly.

  “I honestly think this man is smart. He won’t appear tonight. My opinion and my opinio
n only, he’ll wait.”

  “Wait for what? What does he want?”

  “I have no idea. I can’t come up with a reason yet. And I know you well enough, everyone loves you.” I’m trying to reassure him. His face always gives his emotions away when we’re together. He’s concerned, nervously picking at part of his sandwich. For the first time, he’s let his guard down.

  “No one filled me in on one key issue. When did this start?” I ask.

  “I thought Robert covered everything with you. The weird stuff started after the last tour, after you left. Prior to Artie signing on.”

  “Artie and Robert showed me the note, but was there anything before? Anything you can remember Amadeus, no matter how trivial you think it might be, could help me.”

  “Zara you’re aware I’m insulated from some things. I believe Angus even had weird stuff happen after Damien had his stroke. I can’t recall exactly what, but if I remember right, that’s when little things started happening.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me back then?”

  “We thought of it as silly stuff. Pranks.”

  He reaches across the table and puts his hand on my forearm. “It was nothing, Zara. Don’t worry.”

  “I need to know, no matter how insignificant. I’ll speak with Angus when we meet up with him.” Angus and Interpol, his group will be joining up with Tudor Rose a few times on this tour, like they usually do.

  ******

  This tour is no different from any of the previous ones. Cities and faces are a blur, and any sense of time becomes lost in the mayhem. The operation moves like a well-oiled machine. Being Amadeus’ security detail I have kept a tighter hand on the behind-the-scenes antics. Access to the band and backstage, is critically scrutinized by Red and I. Girls, and unauthorized visitors are a non-issue. With the exception of Amadeus, what the rest of Tudor Rose does after returning to the hotel is their business as long as they are punctual in the morning. I note a couple of detractors among them who think I’m overly zealous.