Dead End Road

by Lori Whitwam

  Kincaid put one hand on Seth’s shoulder. “I understand how unsettling this is. I really do. I’ll call the team deployed to the bus right now, have them get the bottle. I’ll be meeting with them in town later to discuss what they found, and they’ll help me interview the club staff. Hopefully, we’ll get some solid information and resolve everything before this person can make any more plans.”

  “I appreciate all you’re doing. Please, let me know anything you need. This became a whole lot worse for me when that message came through.” He looked at Abby and tried to appear reassuring, but didn’t think he pulled it off very successfully. She still looked shell-shocked.

  “We’ll be in touch soon. If we find the bottle right away and get it to the lab, I’ll put a rush on it, and we might have preliminary results by late this afternoon. Since there’s an ongoing threat, it’ll get priority.” He wagged the hand holding Seth’s phone. “I’m going to hang onto this for a while, if that’s all right. I want to forward the message to our tech department, see what we can find out. Did you recognize the number?”

  “No. I noticed it was a local area code, though. All my guys have out-of-state numbers.”

  “We’ll look into it. When can I get this back to you?”

  “The guys are coming back to Emporia, right?”

  “I’ll find out in a minute, but probably.”

  “I guess I’ll go into town. I need to look ’em all in the face, see if I can tell anything, though it makes me sick to think about it.” He tried to picture what hidden malice looked like. “Can I catch up to you at Dash’s?”

  “That’d work. Before you go, listen to your other messages in case there’s anything else we need to know about.”

  Seth had been so upset about the text message he’d forgotten all about the voice mails. He accepted the phone and accessed his voicemail. Eight messages, all but one from band and crew members. He listened to each only briefly, determining they were of the “holy shit, are you all right?” variety, before deleting them. “Uh oh.”

  Abby’s eyes widened. “What? Not another threat?”

  “No, nothing like that. My mom. Guess I should’ve called her right away, huh?”

  “You can use my phone before we go into town. Guess moms in Montana aren’t so different from the ones in Minnesota.”

  “Not even enough to notice. Stupid of me not to call her, though.”

  “This isn’t a situation you exactly had an action plan for.”

  Seth handed the phone back to Kincaid. “All right, then. I’ll see you at Dash’s later.”

  Kincaid headed back inside, already pulling out his own phone to call the team searching the bus.

  Seth and Abby walked around the house toward the deck. Dilbert was lying in his crater and thumped his tail as they climbed the steps. Abby’s mother sat in one of the Adirondack chairs, working her way down a list in a small notebook.

  “Hey, Mom, anything else I need to know about?” She sat on the top step and leaned against the rail.

  “No, everything’s going fine for now. Butch will board up the hole in the wall and the other window soon as they tell him he can. Grace and Marnie and I will get everything tidied up for you.” She crossed something off her list and stuck the notebook in her purse.

  “You don’t have to do that. I can clean it up.”

  “Sweetie, you have more important things to think about than sweeping up glass and plaster dust.” Marilyn glanced pointedly in Seth’s direction. Looking at Abby sitting there, the sun bringing out auburn glints in her long, dark hair, he imagined her hair brushing across his chest, and had to agree.

  “Okay. I really appreciate it. We’re going into town as soon as Seth calls his mom.” She leaned toward him and handed him her phone. “The guys will be coming back after they’re done with the bus and the van, and he needs to see them.”

  “I understand. Just be careful, please.”

  Seth left them there and walked to the far side of the deck to call his mother. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t done so already. He normally spoke to her at least every other day, though his father seldom came to the phone. James had always been a distant father, which Seth knew had led to the exceptional bond he and his sister had with their mother. To compensate for her husband’s lack of involvement, Rebecca Caldwell filled the roles of both parents, and then some. Seth not only adored her, he respected her more than anyone he’d ever known.

  She answered on the first ring, and he spent several minutes assuring her he was fine and wasn’t in any danger. He didn’t know if it was completely true, but it wouldn’t do any good to worry her even more. There was nothing she could do from Montana. Then she said something perking his attention.

  “Are you going to tell me about this woman you’ve met?” She sounded curious, but there was a hint of chastisement there too.

  “Sure I am, Mom. I haven’t exactly had a lot of time to make any announcements.” Not to mention he didn’t know what to tell anyone. Abby hadn’t yet come out and said where their relationship was headed.

  “I talked to Dianne this morning.”

  “Joey’s mom called you? Before or after the whole explosion thing?”

  “Both, actually. She called the first time because she and Joe Senior received a call from your friend’s mother. Seems she woke Dash up awful early wanting to know about you. She talked Dianne’s number out of him.” Seth heard the humor dancing around the edges of her voice, which made him chuckle. That was his mom. She always got a kick from anybody outtalking Dash.

  “We knew Marilyn made some calls, but we didn’t know how many or who. Did she call you too?” The very idea should make him apprehensive, but he found himself thinking his spunky but soft-spoken mother would hit it off with Marilyn just fine. Whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, he wasn’t sure.

  “No, not yet. But after Dianne called back to tell me about the explosion, I asked her to call Marilyn and tell her we’d talk tomorrow, after things have settled down a bit.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to tell Abby that.”

  His mother laughed, a melodious sound reminding Seth where he’d come by his singing voice. “Tell her not to worry. It’s just a phone call.”

  “You’ll like Marilyn. I do. She reminds me of Aunt Gwen.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine, hon. But what about Abby?”

  Seth let his head fall back and looked up through the trees. What was he supposed to say? “All I can tell you is she’s special, Mom. First thing she did was run over my new guitar, accidentally, and we yelled at each other for a while. Real romantic.”

  “And then what?”

  “After I was done being completely nuts, we talked, and I invited her to the show. I can’t explain it. I just know. And the fact my being here put her in danger makes me want to kill somebody.”

  “I’d like to meet the girl who could crack through that tough shell of yours.” The lilt to her voice was both amused and affectionate.

  “I hope you will, soon. I want her to come with me when I leave, but she’s really attached to this place. She’s a writer, works at home, and kind of made this her haven after her dad died.” He didn’t think he needed to mention the divorce right now. “I don’t know if she’s ready to be away from it much, and she’d be gone a lot if she’s with me.”

  “You’ll sort it out, hon. If you don’t make it an ultimatum, let her work things through, I’m sure it will be fine.” He heard the screen door slam, and he pictured his mother stepping out of her kitchen onto the wide, covered porch. He wondered if the apple trees at the edge of the yard were blooming yet.

  “I hope so, Mom. This completely snuck up on me, but now I’ve found her, I don’t want to mess it up.”

  “I always knew that’s how it’d be with you.”

  “How what would be?”

  “Well, you’ve had girlfriends, but you never had long-term plans. You never gave them any reason to expect anything from you, because you d
idn’t even expect anything from yourself.” Seth thought he heard a small sigh during her brief pause. He’d always wondered if he’d disappointed her on some level with his lack of interest in pursuing a real relationship. He hoped not. She was one of only a handful of people whose opinion he cared about. “I knew when somebody mattered enough, you’d want to do something, be something more. And once you expect something from yourself, that’s all she wrote.”

  “Right now I’m just trying to convince her I’m serious, and get her to think about a future.”

  “Bring her here when you can. You might live on a bus now, but you come from somewhere. She needs to see that.”

  “You’re probably right. I will.”

  They talked a few more minutes, and his mother agreed with his belief the guys in the band couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the attempt on his life. He told her he was headed into town to see everybody but Joey and Pete, and she said to give them all her love.

  He went back to Abby. “Where’d your mom go?”

  “Not sure. Around front somewhere with Grace and Marnie. She had a tape measure.” She stood, and Seth handed back her phone.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Let me go splash some water on my face and I’ll be all set.”

  A few minutes later, Abby came out of the bathroom, her face fresh and free of evidence of her earlier tears. She made sure Dilbert’s water bowl was full, and they headed toward the driveway.

  Seth drove. No way was he going to ride all the way to town with Abby behind the wheel after the day she’d had. She ran over guitars when she was “irritated.” There was no telling what sort of calamity would occur if she tried to drive after recently having part of her house explode.

  For the first few minutes Abby sat slumped forward, her head in her hands. She leaned back and said, “I’m not sure I want to know, but I think I have to. What else did the ATF guys say?”

  Seth thought about the discussion, which made him feel helpless and defensive. Those were not emotions he’d often experienced, and he didn’t like it. “I told you they think it was some sort of pipe bomb with a timer.” She nodded. “After I told them what was in the bag, some clothes, another pair of shoes, my iPod, a bunch of other junk, they figured the bomb was inside the case for my pool cue.”

  “You carry around a pool cue?”

  “Sure. We play a lot of bars, and pool is a good way to pass the time when we’re not working. I had a custom cue in a wooden case, and it fit right in the bottom of the bag, so I usually left it there. They looked at burn marks and a bunch of other stuff I didn’t bother to try to understand, they think it was the cue case.” He hated somebody he knew and trusted might have dug through his personal things, determining which item would best conceal an explosive device meant to kill him.

  “Could they tell how bad it would have been, I mean, if you…” She couldn’t complete the thought, but Seth knew what she was asking.

  “Bad. The bag was on the table by the window, a more or less open space. But if it’d been in the compartment under the bunk, the weak point would be the mattress. The force would’ve mainly gone up, and…It could have been bad.” He was glad he was still busy being confused and angry, because if he let himself think about what almost happened to him, he’d be scared shitless.

  “Guess it’s a good thing I’m so shameless and brought you home with me, then, huh?” She was trying to smile as she said it.

  “Coming home with you was the best thing I thing I’ve ever done, darlin’, even without the ‘avoiding getting blown up’ part. And I happen to like ‘shameless’ when it’s you.” He gave her thigh a reassuring rub. “Thing is, Mouse was scheduled to drive, and Trent and Marsh usually sleep the first shift. Marsh’s bunk is on the other side toward the back, and Trent likes to crash in the rear lounge, so it might not have killed them, but it definitely would’ve messed them up.”

  “Which means whoever it was didn’t care if somebody else was hurt.”

  “Nope.”

  “If it was one of the guys on the bus, they could’ve planned to be up front or in the bathroom or something when the bomb went off.”

  “They could, but deep down I just can’t believe it was one of them. Shit, Marsh is my brother in every way that counts. Trent’s been with us for seven years, and his number one job is taking care of us. Mouse joined up ten years ago. He was the first guy we hired when we moved to Austin.” Seth shook his head. No. No way could he accept any one of those guys wanted him dead.

  Abby leaned across the low center console and brushed her lips across his cheek. “I know you can’t stand to think about this, but I’m really scared. If we don’t find out who it was, they’ll try again.”

  “I know. The cops are almost willing to rule out the guys in the band, because they were onstage the whole night. And they’re the last guys I’d ever suspect. I was Joey’s best man when he married Caroline. He’s been my best friend since we were eight years old and I whacked him in the head for using pencils to drum on the back of my seat on the school bus.” Despite the current situation, he had to smile at the recollection. He wondered if he and Joey would’ve still ended up friends if Seth hadn’t had his lunch box in his gym bag when he hit the annoying drummer-to-be. The blow opened a cut on Joey’s forehead, and eight-year-old boys always bonded better if there was a little blood involved. Seth redirected his thoughts and returned to the subject at hand. “I’m a godparent to Pete’s little girl, and Marsh and I have been through everything together. No way in hell it was one of them.”

  Abby nodded. “Not to mention if you were gone, so is the band.”

  “Right. None of us could be replaced. If anything happened to one of us, or somebody decided to quit the road, that’d be the end of it.” He knew they could all find work with other bands, but it would never be the same. If he had to, he could play some solo gigs to pay the bills, but imagined he’d spend most of his time writing songs.

  “So, who does that leave?” Her fingers were fidgeting in her lap, making Seth think she really wished she had a notebook handy.

  “Danny Dawkins, our light guy, and Andy Hicks, our gofer and apprentice sound tech.” Seth replied, cracking the window to let some of the fragrant May breeze into the vehicle. He hoped it would help stave off the headache threatening. “They were hired right before Christmas. They hung around one of the clubs in Austin, doing odd jobs. When they heard we were looking for a couple of new guys, everything just connected. They’re doing great work, and fit right in. They’re both from outside Texas, but a lot of guys come to Austin if they want to get into the music business.”

  “And Roberto?” Abby asked. She’d stopped fidgeting, and pulled a lip balm from the glove box. She applied a quick coat, which she immediately began gnawing off.

  “Been with us about five years, give or take. Couldn’t be him. I had my Paul Reed Smith electric guitar under the bunk. Even if ’Berto decided he needed to get rid of me, he’d never risk a guitar. He’d just bust me in the head with a rock or something.”

  “Seth! Don’t joke about this!”

  “Darlin’, if I don’t crack a couple of jokes, I’ll go nuts.”

  Abby sighed. “I know. I wish we could be alone back at the house right now, instead of walking into the middle of whatever this is.”

  “Me, too. I feel like I’m on the world’s worst reality show.” One he definitely did not like the consequences of losing. “But how about you? Are you doing any better?” He knew it was a stupid question the second the words were out of his mouth.

  “Not even close.” The tiny sound escaping was somewhere between a hiccup and a humorless laugh. “I’m kind of over worrying about the house, though. It can be fixed. I’m way more worried about keeping you in one piece.”

  “Sounds like maybe you’re planning on having me around for a while.”

  She ran her hand down his forearm. “Look, I can’t say for sure yet how I’m going to handle this ‘we’re togethe
r, and that’s the way it is’ thing, but I’m working on it. I don’t want to promise you something if I can’t follow through. But no matter what, wherever you are, I’d definitely rather have you be alive.”

  “I’m way more fun that way.” His weak attempt at banter failed to draw Abby in. She seemed focused on potential suspects, and he wondered if this was her mystery-writer brain at work.

  “Who are the ‘other people’ you mentioned to Kincaid?”

  “I had a hell of a time thinking of anybody, but when he started asking questions, a few things came to mind. He wanted to know who the guys were Danny and Andy replaced.” One of them left when he got married and didn’t want to spend so much time away from his new wife. The other was fired after less than a year for being too drunk to do his job once too often.

  “They don’t sound very likely,” Abby said. The tilt to her head suggested she was trying to figure out a scenario in which the two former crew members could be involved. It would be preferable to focusing suspicion on his closest friends.

  “I didn’t think so, either. But since they both know my habits pretty well, they want to talk to them. Then there’s the ever-popular ‘crazed fan’ angle. I couldn’t think of anybody who stood out, but they’re going to ask the other guys if they noticed anybody unusual lately.”

  “If it was Pammy Short-Shorts, I’ll kill her myself.” Abby glowered, and Seth had to smile.

  “Was that the girl who was giving you grief last night?”

  “Yeah, and she’s one of the ones from the park too. She’s of the very firm opinion I have no business being with you.”

  “Good thing what she thinks doesn’t matter.”

  Abby gifted him with a brief smile. “Sure doesn’t matter to me. So, anybody else?”

  Seth saved the most likely two “suspects” for last. “There’s this guy, Drew Purcell. He lost a court case against us last year. He accused us of stealing two songs he wrote. We never read or listen to songs people send, so we don’t get into any kind of mess.” He opened the window a bit more, seeking a balance to clear his head. “He claimed we must’ve heard it somewhere. Our stuff didn’t sound anything like what he wrote, so we won.”