by Alexie Aaron
~
Harry was waiting up. He sat in the living room, in his pajamas, reading a book upside down. I looked at the title and was surprised to see it was one of Alex’s old music theory books.
I reached down and turned the book the right way up before walking into the kitchen to pour myself a rather large glass of wine.
“I thought you didn’t like wine?”
“Tonight, I like wine,” I said. “Want some?”
“Sure, why not,” he said. “Was it a bad evening?”
“No, I just didn’t drink during the meal. I wanted to keep my head.”
“He’s not all that handsome, Cin.”
I almost did a spit-take. “Yes, he is, but he’s not for me. I admit being attracted to him - who wouldn’t be - but he’s a client, Harry. We have to act professional if we want to be regarded as professionals.”
“I’m surprised that you’re not fighting me on taking this case,” Harry admitted.
“I think it’s a pretty straightforward example of coincidence with a smattering of revisionist history.”
“I don’t know if I can agree with that. I think a lot of history has been covered up. I did a little research.”
“Really?” I asked, pulling off my perfectly-sound pair of shoes. “Let me sit down before you burst my bubble.”
It was at that moment, Alex decided to turn up the volume on the stereo and his bass amp in his room. I launched myself and caught Harry’s empty glass before it vibrated off the counter. “Let’s go outside,” I shouted, grabbing the wine bottle.
Harry opened the slider, and he and I retreated to the pool deck away from the driving beat of “Redheaded Stepchild.”
I eased down on the deck and stuck my feet in the warm water of the pool, ignoring that the hem of my pants were getting wet. Harry rolled up the legs of his pajamas before pouring himself a small serving of wine. He sat down beside me.
“Elijah Broadhurst was arrested in Kentucky for second degree murder. This is why the band broke up. He was acquitted, but the circumstances around the arrest were enough to sour Gareth and Meyer on Elijah for a few years,” he blurted out. “Only Manuel stuck with him through the aftermath.”
“That can’t be. The man I had a meal with was no murderer.”
“He was acquitted,” Harry repeated.
“Still, what happened to put that nice man in that situation in the first place?”
“It was a groupie named Karen. He was found unconscious, beside her broken body, in a hotel room. She was beaten to death with Elijah’s souvenir Yankees baseball bat. His lawyer argued that there were no fingerprints on the handle of the bat, but they were everywhere else as if someone only wiped their prints off.”
“Was there motive?”
“While Elijah was on tour, Karen had been calling his home repeatedly, at all hours, claiming that she was carrying Elijah’s child. Mrs. Caroline Broadhurst didn’t find it funny. The cops believed that after the Louisville concert, Elijah went to talk to Karen, and they argued, and it got out of hand. The coroner found that Karen was not pregnant at the time of her death. They wanted him to plead to manslaughter, but he refused. His lawyer got him off.”
“Well, someone killed her, but why?”
“Good question.”
“Did Elijah sleep with her?”
“Don’t know. He claims that she followed the band, but he didn’t have anything to do with her. Gareth, Meyer and Manuel backed him up.”
“But you said this broke up the band.”
“Yes. I guess they closed ranks to get him out of trouble, but maybe they didn’t believe his story at the time.”
“Shit.”
Harry and I sat for a while in silence, each of us trying to make a link with the murder of the groupie ten years ago and what was happening now.
“Sidney, the sound guy, said ‘shit happens’ when we were talking about Simon’s accident. I wonder if these happenings are attempts at sabotaging Ely’s Coming’s comeback?” I asked.
“I’m not following you,” Harry confessed.
“I think that the murderer did a good job of breaking up the band. Perhaps the same person is trying to keep Elijah or one of his bandmates out of the spotlight again.”
“How long has this sound guy been around the band?” he asked.
“Since they started recording again.”
“Maybe it would be worth your while to spend some time with this Sidney to get more information on the other band members.”
“I don’t know. It would be like using the guy.”
“I don’t get you?”
“Calling him up out of the blue and, you know, asking for a date.”
Harry got up. “Come on,” he said, helping me up.
I followed him into the house and into the den. He closed the door so we could hear above Alex’s practicing and walked over and hit play on the answering machine.
“Ah, Cin, this is Sidney, Sidney Stoneridge. We met today. I’m the sound guy. I was wondering if you’d like to hang out tomorrow, and we could get some food before the concert. I’ve got the best seat in the house if you want to see your son play. Anyway, I’m going to be up for a while, so give me a call.”
“When were you going to tell me about this message?” I asked Harry.
“I figured that you’d find it sooner or later, preferably later. The guy was hitting on you right away. But now I think I may have been too hasty. I think you should hang with Sidney tomorrow, ask a few questions.”
“Again, I think this guy is very vulnerable now. I don’t want to use him.”
“A day, Cin. What can happen in a day?”
I could become attached to someone who might die on me, were the words I didn’t say aloud. “Alright, I’ll do it, but don’t you dare mention this to anyone else, not even Alex. I don’t want anything getting back to Sidney. Do you hear me?” I warned.
“I hear you loud and clear.”
“Now get out of here. I don’t need an audience,” I said, holding the door open, enduring the loud, walking bass line blaring in the house.
I shut the door, thankful we went for the extra insulation in the office. The sound proofing didn’t negate all the sound, but it gave me a break from the migraine-inducing practicing Alex was in the middle of.
I listened again to the message and dialed the number.
“Allo.”
“I’m looking for Sidney Stoneridge.”
“You found him. What are you selling, darlin’?”
I started laughing and said, “This is Cin Fin-Lathen.”
“Oh damn, sorry, Cin. All I get these days are telemarketers.”
“Most people don’t even answer the phone.”
“Rather rude though, don’t you think?” he asked.
“Actually no, but let’s not argue.”
“Damn, our first fight. Does this mean we’re through?” he teased.
I laughed again. “I think we can look beyond this and see if we can save our first date.”
“Whoa, a date. It’s really a date, isn’t it?”
“Did I get the wrong idea?” I asked, embarrassed.
“No no, not at all. I’m just amazed I had the cojones to ask you,” he admitted.
“Well, you did, and I’m accepting.”
“Here’s what I’m thinking. Tomorrow afternoon, I have to be there for an additional sound check, so the band can run through the numbers with your son. After, I have a few hours before I have to return for the concert. I was hoping that you’d let me take you to an early dinner, and maybe we could walk around and do some people watching and get to know each other. And then, if you’re not thoroughly turned off, you can sit with me and watch the concert from my booth.”
“Sounds great.”
“Does it?” he squeaked. “I mean, fabulous. Would it be bad of me to ask you to meet me down here at four?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Here’s my cell number if you chicken out,�
�� he said and gave me the number. “Just tell the guard who you are. I’ll have a pass waiting for you.”
“I’m looking forward to this, Sidney,” I said and hung up.
I took a moment to get myself together before I faced Harry, and Alex’s music. What an interesting turn of events. This morning I was Cin Fin-Lathen, retired consultant, shelving books. Twelve short hours later had me on the job again, dining with a rock star, and accepting my first date since my divorce. A date? What the hell was I going to wear? I was sure I had nothing. Not only did I need to guess what to wear to an early dinner, but a concert too. The Florida heat had to be considered, and being on my feet all evening meant no heels.
I was so deep in my panic that I didn’t notice the door opening. The level of sound startled me. I looked up to see Harry easing in the door, carrying my forgotten wine glass and the half-finished bottle of wine. I wanted something stronger but smiled when Harry tipped a few ounces in my glass before sitting down.
“Well?”
“I’ve got a date.”
I gave him the particulars, and before I could say it, he said, “We need to go shopping.”
“No, I need to go shopping, solo. I can’t afford you.”
Harry flashed a brilliant smile.
“I didn’t mean that,” I said, getting up. “Are you going to the concert?”
“I’m Alex’s roadie. Actually, Elijah’s manager faxed over some passes for the three of us.”
“I imagine you’ve negotiated some kind of deal.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be looking out for us professionally while you’re flirting with the suspects.”
“Thanks.” I picked up the glass of wine and headed for my bedroom.
“Cin,” he called, walking after me.
I turned around and gave him my full, distracted attention.
“I didn’t mean to push you into this date. I didn’t realize that you, well, you haven’t been out there in a while. You always seem to be in the company of guys.”
“A priest, married coppers, and my ex-husband don’t count.”
“Too bad that Michael’s a priest, I think you’d make a good couple,” Harry said.
“Don’t.”
“I mean, he’s handsome and wealthy. You could do worse.”
“He’s a priest, and that’s that.”
“Guess so.”
Harry walked away and left me with Father Michael on my mind. One of the last private conversations I had with Michael actually involved Harry. It wasn’t long after Michael confessed, high on painkillers, that he loved me. He said, "You and I could be a spectacular team. I could give up the collar, and we could kick some serious butt out there in the world. But it would mean leaving Harry."
“Oh, Harry,” I said softly. “You’re killing me.” I shut the door and leaned against it. It wouldn’t do any good to let Harry know that he had inadvertently majorly cock-blocked me while saving my soul at the same time.
Chapter Four
I backed the BMW Z3 Roadster into a space in the guest lot behind the auditorium. I checked my makeup twice before leaving the car. I had chosen an outfit more for ease and comfort than for rock-concert chic. I wore a flowing sundress over a pair of footless tights. The green print made the most of my hair. If it was my hair that attracted Sidney in the first place, I might as well take advantage. I dismissed any thought of dressing youthful, picking up on his comment about Elijah’s ex dressing like her daughter. The south Florida wind blew the dress about my legs, and I was glad I went with the tights, just in case it picked the hem up and over my hips. The guard at the gate had a VIP badge waiting for me. He asked that I wear it so it could be seen, so I pulled the lanyard over my head and let the large plasticized card dangle below my bust.
I stepped around a puddle, careful not to get my sandal-encased feet wet. The vibrant toenail polish had been an afterthought. I wanted to be subtle, but the call of the concert pulled me into the nail salon and left me at the mercy of some rather energetic technicians. Harry and Alex had already left by the time I arrived home, so I didn’t have to face the scrutiny of my son and the ever-critical Harry.
I was directed to the stage by a security guard. I decided to climb the stairs so I could see if Sidney was still in the sound booth.
“Santa Maria, if it isn’t a vision,” Manuel Rodriguez said, approaching me.
I fought down my band crush and smiled. “I’m looking for…”
“Me obviously,” he said.
“Um, no.”
“Elijah’s in the band suite.”
“Actually, I’m looking for Sidney.”
“Son of a bitch, Stoneridge?” he asked, confused.
“Quit flirting with my mother,” Alex said, coming to my rescue. He walked up, pulling his sweat-soaked tee up over his stomach. “Mom, Sidney’s changing. He said for you to wait for him here.”
Manuel looked at Alex and then at me and back again. “You had him as a teenager, didn’t you?”
“Cut it out. You’re embarrassing my mother, dude.”
“Life isn’t fair. How the hell did Stonebridge manage to score…” He looked at Alex’s outraged face and edited, “How did he meet you first?”
“Yesterday,” I managed, not sure if I was supposed to answer him or not. “I met him when Harry and I were checking out the scene of Simon’s accident.”
“You’re the lady detective? I wouldn’t have cast you in that role.”
“She’s not only a detective but a musician,” Alex said proudly. “Also, a terror with a knife, so I’d watch yourself.”
“Damn.”
Sidney’s arrival stopped any further conversation. The thin man had chosen a pair of light green cargo shorts with a brown tee covered by a green-and-brown-patterned, open, short-sleeved shirt. His hair was wet. I suspected he had hastily washed it in the sink. He looked at me and smiled. He nodded to Manuel and shook hands with Alex.
“I’m watching you, dude,” Alex teased.
“Shall we go?” he asked.
“Please,” I said, trying not to let my nerves show.
We walked over to the lot. He stopped when he found his large paneled van blocked in.
“My car’s unblocked over there. Why don’t we use it?” I pointed out the BMW.
“I’m dreaming. Not only am I in the company of a beautiful woman, but one with a bimmer too.”
“Sidney, would you like to drive it?”
“Ah, no, you see, I’m very distracted right now, and I might crash it.”
“Alright, but you’re going to have to give me directions, ’cause I have no idea where we’re going.”
He nodded and followed me to the car.
My blue topaz baby wasn’t new, but it’d been very well cared for. I loved the car; I loved driving the car; and I loved the looks I got from other drivers when I drove it. I guess it’s more than a car to me.
Sidney opened the door for me before moving quickly around the car and getting in.
“Top up or down?” I asked.
He turned and looked at me so quickly. I think he thought I said something else. I pointed up to the ceiling.
“Down, I want to leave this place in style and let all the losers see who I’m leaving with,” he said and secured his seatbelt.
I laughed. This guy was either good for my ego or half-blind. Either way, Sidney Stoneridge had made me feel beautiful. It was difficult to talk with the top down, but Sidney shouted directions, and soon we were pulling into the lot of an Intracoastal Waterway floating restaurant called the Crab Shack.
“The place is kind of a dive, but the food and service are great,” he said, opening my car door. I stood up and tried to unknot my windblown curls. “Let me,” he said.
I stood still, and he worked from the back around to my face. He unwound a curl and pushed it behind my ear. I looked at him, his face inches from mine. Butterflies invaded my stomach. He leaned in, and I received a tender kiss on my lips. I responded and ki
ssed him back. He pulled away, and I opened my eyes.
“Whoa,” he said. “Do you always tip your hairdressers like this?”
“Makes me quite popular at the salon,” I said to lighten the mood.
“Cin, I feel like a teenager,” he admitted. “I had rehearsed all these clever things to say, and right now, all I can think is how good that kiss felt.”
“I think it rates in the top ten of the all-time best kisses.”
“I’m moving up the charts, cool.” He grabbed my hand. “Come on, let’s get crabs. Wait, no…”
“I like crab,” I said, rescuing him from explaining the STD faux pas.
“Sidney,” the cute blonde hostess greeted my date. “We have your table ready.”
“Vicki, this is Cin Fin-Lathen, my date. Cin, this is my cousin Vicki. She owns this floating piece of crap.”
“You’re lucky I’m letting you on the Shack after last time,” Vicki said, collecting two menus.
“Sounds like a good story,” I said, following the bouncy blonde.
“The poor dear was in the middle of his first round of chemo, and well, he lost his meal during the lunch rush,” she sympathized. “But you didn’t have to say ‘watch the shrimp’ on your way out, mister,” she said, turning around and placing a manicured nail on Sidney’s chest.
Sidney held up his hands. “Guilty. I promise you, I will keep my dinner down, but I can’t speak for Cin here.”
“I have great digestion,” I said quickly, avoiding Vicki’s scrutiny.
She nodded and pulled out a chair at a table, at which I noticed extra care had been taken to make it look special. Sidney’s cousin was doing her part to make his first date with me as good as she could make it.
She handed me a menu, but I declined. “I think I’ll let you make that decision for me.”
She asked, “Any allergies?”
“None.”
“Good.”
“I’ll take a menu,” Sidney said.
“You know the menu forwards and backwards,” she pointed out.
“Still, I think I need something to hold on to,” he said.
“I’m going to start you two out with Barney’s special, Thai grilled shrimp,” she said. “Can I get your drink orders?”
