“I’ve always got time for you.”
Bree could hear Carson moving. The music and chatter in the background disappeared, and quiet filled the line. Bree sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the stark darkness out her window. She wished she could be fascinated by the world outside instead of terrified.
“I’m so sorry about what happened at your concert,” Carson said.
“I appreciate your concern. We’re all holding on. I’m grateful that everyone is still alive.” She pulled a pillow onto her lap and squeezed it.
“We all are. If there’s anything you need, you just let us know. The whole community is there for you.”
“There actually is something I need,” Bree started.
Carson Black was another of Emerson’s prodigies. She’d been discovered about five years before Bree. At the height of her success, she’d had five number one hit singles and sold out her tours. However, like many in the industry, her fame had quickly worn off and she’d been replaced with newer, younger models. Today, she had taken a side gig hosting a reality music competition on TV. The change seemed to fit Carson, however.
Bree wouldn’t call Carson a good friend, but they had spoken several times at different events where they’d been together. Carson had always told her if she ever needed anything, to give her a call. And that’s exactly what Bree was doing right now.
“The question is about Emerson,” Bree started.
Even though Carson didn’t say anything immediately, Bree could sense a change in atmosphere of the conversation. Carson’s voice sounded stiff as she asked, “What do you need to know?”
“I was talking to Lloyd today when his girlfriend, Jill, came in. She claims that Emerson has written all of the contracts with his singers in such a way that he gets the majority of their money. I also heard that he sadly underpays bands and other staff members that he hires.”
Carson was quiet again for another moment. Bree braced herself for whatever Carson had to say. Would Carson rebuke her? Or confirm Bree’s suspicions?
“It’s true,” Carson said. “The way Emerson words the contracts is crazy. I even had three lawyers look at mine before I signed with him, but some things still got by. It doesn’t help that he’s your manager, producer, and that he’s in charge of finances. He’s managed to get a cut for himself in all those things. I know it seems like you’re making a lot now, but, in the long run, there’s a good chance that you won’t be.”
Bree swallowed hard, a feeling of dread already forming in her stomach. “Is that right? Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I started to,” she said. “Do you remember when we were at that concert in Nashville together? It was on the Fourth of July, and it was only the second or third time that we’d met. You were so excited to be working with Emerson.”
Bree remembered that day well. It was like the honeymoon period of her career, and she’d kept pinching herself, not believing this was all real. “Yes, I do.”
“I started to tell you to be careful, but you started chattering on and on about what a great opportunity this was. You even said that it wasn’t about money or fame, but about pursuing your art and passion. I could see it in your eyes, that excitement. I didn’t want to burst your bubble. Besides, if you meant it when you said you didn’t care about money and fame, I figured everything would be okay.”
“Money and fame have never been my goal. I just wanted to reach people with my songs. But I haven’t even been able to perform any of my own songs. They got buried, and I have very little creative control over what I do.”
Carson sighed. “That’s something else that Emerson does really well. He’s a manipulator. He knows how to make you feel silly when you suggest things that he doesn’t agree with. Granted, he does have experience that speaks for itself.”
Bree stared out the window. “Do you think he’s shady?”
Carson remained quiet for a minute. “Like I said, Emerson presents himself in a way that takes any suspicion off of him. But, when you strip all that away, then I have to say yes. It’s why I cut ties with him and went out on my own. To this day, he hates me.”
“Are you the only one he’s done this to?”
Carson snorted. “No, he has a whole line of people he’s done this to. He’s a snake. He may be a brilliant snake, but he is still a snake. And, by the way, I’ve heard rumors that he pays people off with gag orders if they figure out what he’s doing.”
“What can I do?” A sick feeling gurgled in her stomach.
“When is your contract up?”
“In two years.”
“Then in two years, you don’t sign up with him again. Until then, you have to grin and bear it. I wish I had better news for you, but I don’t. I’m sorry.”
As Bree ended the call, her head pounded.
She needed to talk to Emerson. And she would, first thing in the morning. She would go to his place. She wanted to hear exactly what he had to say.
Coming to Lantern Beach had proven to be a wakeup call in so many ways.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dez didn’t expect to feel the burst of pleasure he did when he spotted Bree coming into the kitchen the next morning. When he had gone to bed last night, he’d felt both happier and more concerned than he had in a long time.
He wanted to be in denial about why he felt so happy, but he knew the truth. He was enjoying his time with Bree way too much. He hadn’t felt this way . . . since Leah, he supposed.
Leah had shattered his heart into so many pieces that it hadn’t been the same since. If Dez was smart, he would stay away from Bree now and try to put the brakes on any of these feelings. Nothing good could come from him pining after a popstar.
Soon, Bree would be leaving this island and returning to her regularly scheduled life. To ask her to do anything but that would be a disservice to her dreams and to everyone who loved her music.
That’s why Dez needed to keep his focus on keeping her safe. It was the best bet all around.
He studied her for a moment from his place at the breakfast bar. She was already dressed, with her hair fixed and makeup on. He didn’t know what she planned to do today, but she was obviously ready for it.
He stood and grabbed an empty coffee cup. “Would you like some?”
“I would love some.” She offered a grateful smile.
He fixed the drink for her, just as Bree liked it, and handed the cup to her. The two of them sat at the breakfast bar together.
“I’d never been to Lantern Beach before this concert,” she started. “But I heard about the invitation and then did my research. I knew I had to come. This place reminded me of my family vacations when I was a child. We always went to Pawleys Island.”
“Are you from South Carolina?”
She nodded. “I am. A little town outside of Charleston. That’s where my family still lives.”
“What do your parents do for a living?”
“My dad is a teacher, and my mom stayed home with the kids. We were very close . . . until I broke tradition by not listening to them.”
“Do you ever try to call them?”
She took a long sip of coffee before answering. “I did at first. But they never took my calls. Once I called from a number my mom didn’t recognize. She answered. But when she heard my voice, she hung up.”
“Ouch.”
“Yes, ouch.”
“Has the sacrifice been worth it?”
Bree glanced at him, the question lingering in her gaze for a minute. “I don’t know. I wish there was no either-or situation.”
A few minutes of silence fell.
Dez glanced at her. Bree seemed preoccupied as she stared outside, a far-off look in her eyes. He’d figured she might feel lighter today, like some of her problems were disappearing since Trixie and her brothers were in jail. Apparently not.
“You look like you have something on your mind,” he started.
She looked at him, still not smiling. “I do
. I talked to Carson Black last night, and it turns out that Emerson has taken a lot of the artists he developed to the bank. I feel so foolish, to be honest.”
A surge of anger went up Dez’s spine. He knew that man was nothing but trouble. “There’s nothing to feel foolish about. It seems like he may be in the habit of taking advantage of people who want to make a career in music.”
She gripped her coffee mug. “I should’ve known better. But with my parents closing me out of their lives, I didn’t have money for a lawyer. I did talk to a few people about the contract before I signed it, but they weren’t people in the industry. All my friends told me to go for it. They knew the stars that Emerson had developed, and it seemed like I would be a fool if I didn’t take this opportunity.”
“It was the chance of a lifetime.”
“It’s not that I think that I deserve to get all the money from record sales and concerts. Not at all. But I also don’t think I should be taken advantage of.”
If there was one thing Dez had learned about Bree in the brief amount of time he’d known her, it was that she wasn’t the materialistic, fame-seeking star he’d assumed she would be. She was just a woman trying to make a living doing what she loved.
“No one could fault you for that,” he said.
Bree’s gaze met his. “I need to go talk to Emerson.”
“When? Right now?”
She nodded slowly, almost solemnly. “Yes, right now. I don’t want to give him a heads up. Because I know that will just give him time to make up more excuses. I want to see his face when I confront him.”
“If that’s what you want to do, I’ll be there.”
She took a sip of her coffee, her gaze distant again until her eyes met his. Finally, the first hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you.”
“No problem. At your service.”
Her smile slowly disappeared.
Dez had picked his words on purpose—to remind himself of his professional boundaries.
But Bree felt something more also, didn’t she? Why did that both delight and concern him?
Bree cleared her throat. “Are there any updates on the case? Have you talked to Chief Chambers?”
“I talked to her this morning briefly, but I didn’t hear anything new.”
“At least, Trixie and her brothers are behind bars. As much as I hate to see someone so talented get caught up in something like this, in any case, I can breathe a little easier.” She paused. “I suppose now that they’ve been arrested, I may not need a bodyguard.”
Dez felt the lump in his throat. He knew it was ridiculous, but he didn’t like the thought of being away from her. They were just now getting to know each other, and it seemed a shame to cut things off just as they’d started.
“Maybe not,” Dez finally said.
“I should probably keep you around for just a little while longer until we hear something for sure.” She shrugged and part of her lip started to curl into a smile.
Dez shrugged also. “Probably a good idea. Just to be sure.”
Their gazes met for a minute, and something passed between them. An understanding of sorts. Whatever it was, Dez wanted to know more.
As he shifted, his hand hit his coffee mug and liquid poured across the table.
They both jumped to their feet, the moment over.
“I’ll grab some paper towels,” Bree said, scurrying away.
What was with him becoming a klutz around Bree?
So much for being Mr. Charming and Smooth.
Bree felt the anxiety rise in her as they traveled down the road thirty minutes later. Emerson’s house wasn’t far away, and she was certain this was what she wanted to do. But that didn’t stop her nerves from materializing.
She knew Emerson wouldn’t react well to the conversation. But she’d already called a lawyer this morning and asked him to look over her contract. She had emailed it to him. She knew it would take time for him to review all of the fine print there, however.
Something about knowing that Dez was going to be with her brought Bree a surge of courage and comfort. There was something about him that was very reassuring to her.
Part of Bree wanted to revel in giddiness at the thought of Dez. Not only was he handsome, but she felt like the two of them had a unique connection. Did he feel it too? Or was it just her?
She might ask. But then, again, what was the point? Her home base was in LA. His was on the other side of the country on an island accessible only by ferry.
A relationship between them . . . if Dez was even interested . . . would be challenging, at best.
Before they reached Emerson’s house, Bree’s phone rang. It was her financial manager. She’d also placed a call to him last night.
“Hey, Bill,” she answered. “I wanted to talk to you about setting up a fund to help pay for the medical expenses of the shooting victims.”
“That’s a great idea, Bree,” he said. “But . . . I don’t think you can do that.”
“What do you mean?” Her spine stiffened.
“I just checked the account. You haven’t been paid in months.”
She sucked in a breath. “What do you mean, I haven’t been paid in months?”
Dez glanced over at her, his eyebrows shoved together.
“I don’t know how it slipped past me,” Bill said. “I’m usually more on top of things like this. But the last time you got paid was in October. I tried to call Emerson before I called you, so I could talk to him about it. He didn’t answer. I’m going to keep on digging into this.”
“Thanks, Bill.” As Bree ended the call, a bad feeling lingered in her stomach.
“Emerson hasn’t been paying you?” Dez asked.
She shook her head. “No, he hasn’t. I . . . I don’t know what to think. I’ve been on the road, where all my expenses are taken care of. I haven’t even thought about following up to see if my paycheck was coming in.”
“He’s dirty,” Dez muttered.
“I think you’re right. And I’m going to talk to him about it. Now.”
They pulled to a stop in front of Emerson’s house, and Bree drew in a deep breath. This was it. The moment when she would get everything out in the open.
There was no need to sit on these theories any longer. The best thing she could do was to tell Emerson what she’d discovered and see how he reacted.
“Are you ready for this?” Dez asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He offered a quick nod before they climbed out. She noticed Dez glancing around as they walked toward the door. Did he still think that the gunman might be out here? Did he not believe that Trixie’s brothers were responsible?
A shiver rippled through her. Bree preferred to think that the person responsible for the attempts on her life was behind bars. It was what had helped her sleep better last night.
As they climbed the steps to his front door, Dez stiffened beside her. “Wait here.”
What did he see that Bree didn’t?
She peered around him and noticed that the door was cracked open.
That, in itself, was a warning sign. Emerson was from LA. People didn’t leave their doors open like that in LA. Certainly, not Emerson.
Bree stood against the side of the building and waited as Dez pushed the door open. He drew his gun and remained on guard as he shoved the door lightly. Looking back, he motioned for her to follow.
Good. Bree really didn’t want to stand out here by herself.
“Hello, Emerson?” Dez called. “Is anyone here?”
They heard nothing.
“Stay behind me,” Dez whispered.
Bree would have no trouble doing that. In fact, what she had the most trouble with was not holding onto Dez like a lifeline.
Something was wrong here, and she didn’t know what.
Emerson’s car was in the driveway, so he should be here. There was no reason for him not to be.
They moved through the entryway and checked the four b
edrooms downstairs. They were clear. They moved up to the second floor and checked the rooms there. They were also clear. Finally, on the third floor of the house, they found the kitchen and living room.
It was obvious that Emerson had been staying here. The place was a mess, but Emerson had never been known for being neat and tidy. He preferred that other people cleaned up after him.
Dez checked his bedroom, but Emerson wasn’t there either.
The place appeared to be clear.
Then where was Emerson? Had something happened to him?
“Is he a runner?” Dez turned toward Bree, gun still in hand but lowered.
“Not since I’ve known him.” Bree shrugged.
“Something is weird about this.”
“I agree.” Bree wandered over toward the table where some papers had been laid out.
What she saw there took her breath away.
There were pictures of Bree. With Dez. From all over Lantern Beach. Just like the ones someone had sent to her email just yesterday.
But there was more than that. There were also handwritten threats. Just like the ones she’d received.
Had Emerson been the person responsible for sending her these notes, promising to kill her in inexplicable ways? That was what it looked like.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dez felt the tension growing inside him. From what he could tell, Emerson was the one behind the chaos surrounding Bree’s life over the past few months.
But why? What sense did that make?
Dez had already called Cassidy, and she was on her way. If the man was missing, they needed to file a report. And if he was responsible for the threats, Cassidy needed to arrest him.
As Dez paced away from the breakfast bar, he looked over at Bree. She stood near the window, staring outside. Her face had gone pale, and she couldn’t seem to draw her eyes away from the ocean.
He crossed the room until he stood beside her. “What are you thinking?”
Bree squeezed the skin between her eyes. “I don’t know what to think. It was one thing when I thought Emerson was a greedy, selfish manipulator. But it’s a whole other story if he’s the one who’s been behind these threats. And, if that’s the case, was he also responsible for trying to shoot me? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
Safe Harbor Page 11
