by Lori Whitwam
“Go ahead and say it. His stuff sucked.”
“His stuff sucked. Pure country-pop crap.” Seth was glad to hear Abby give a short laugh.
The last name was going to be tricky. He wasn’t sure what, if anything, Abby knew about the situation. He braced himself and said, “Stacy Ballantyne.”
“Your ex.”
“Yeah. You know about her?” Caroline. It had to be. While he didn’t necessarily like having other people give Abby his life story, in this case he was glad she already knew.
“Caroline told me.”
“I figured.” His hand tightened on the wheel. He did not like thinking about Stacy, and he liked discussing her with Abby even less. “Well, Stacy was plenty pissed after we broke up. But once she was gone, we realized she was poison, and everything was better without her.”
“Do you know where she is now?” Her voice was gentle, and her fingertips brushed his cheek, ostensibly to tuck a strand of hair away from his face, though Seth knew it was to reassure him it was all right for him to talk about this difficult topic.
“Not a clue,” he said with a small shrug. “Last I heard, a few months after she left, she’d hooked up with some West Coast band with a real reputation. She’s left me alone, and I’m more than happy to return the favor.”
“Why is she on your list?”
“Because of her drug issues, and from what she was saying to people after we split. She’d twisted it all up in her head I’d somehow ruined her life, instead of owning up to her own lousy behavior.” He cringed at the bitterness creeping into his voice. He moderated his tone and continued. “Unless she’s really gotten her shit together, I could imagine her holding a grudge. She’d be capable of coming up with something like this and convincing somebody to do it.”
Seth slowed as they entered town and guided the Jeep to the parking lot at Dash’s club.
Two Emporia police cars and a county sheriff’s cruiser occupied the parking spaces closest to the building. The fun never ended. They climbed out, and Seth mentally prepared himself.
“My mom called Dash this morning. About you,” she said.
“Yeah, I know. My mom told me.”
“Your mom told you? What the hell?”
“Let’s see. Marilyn called Dash, talked him out of Joey’s mom’s number, and called her. Joey’s mom called my mom…well, you get the picture. Bottom line is our mothers plan to talk tomorrow.”
Abby stopped in her tracks. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. They’re totally going to be best friends,” he said, grabbing her hand.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “Darlin’, you worry too much about stuff doesn’t need worrying about. Let’s go talk to Dash and find a place to meet the guys. Maybe by then everybody’ll be out of your house.”
“None of you play fair,” Abby said, shaking her head. “You or the mom squad.”
“All’s fair in love and war.”
She made a decidedly unladylike comment and pulled open the side door.
Chapter Nine
Abby
They walked through the back hall and found the door to Dash’s office open. When they entered, Abby saw the club owner seated behind his dented metal desk, and a Sheriff’s Deputy in the old wooden chair, the only available guest seating. Dash hauled his bulk from his chair and stood, leaning forward with both hands on the desk.
“Well, looky who’s here. Guess you two had an exciting morning, didn’t you? Though I reckon things were plenty exciting before that too.” His laugh was like the braying of a mule dying of asphyxiation. Though she knew his crass behavior was due to a perpetual adolescence rather than any perverted or malicious intent, Abby wasn’t amused. Since Seth didn’t allow himself to be drawn into an exchange of juvenile banter, she surmised he wasn’t, either.
“Guess this is the place to be today, huh, Dash?” Abby asked.
“Looks like it,” Dash said. He turned worried eyes toward Seth. “I’m damned upset about what happened. You know you boys are like kin to me, and I’m sick any part of this mess might’ve had anything to do with my club.” He lowered himself back into his seat, smoothing his tent-sized green golf shirt over his belly. “Abby, shame about your house. I’m sure you’ll get it fixed up right quick, though.”
“Mom’s already on it,” Abby said. “I’m sorry about her calling you so early this morning. When she’s on a mission, basic manners go straight out the window.”
“Don’t worry about it, sugar. I figure me and Nancy’d be doin’ the same thing if our Courtney was shackin’ up with some crazy musician.” He shot an apologetic look at Seth, letting him know he didn’t consider him a “crazy musician.” “I told her you couldn’t hardly do better than Seth, here. I think the world of all four of ’em.”
“I appreciate it, Dash,” Seth said. “Made for a real interesting conversation when Marilyn showed up this morning.”
“I bet it did,” the club owner wheezed. “Now, this here’s Deputy Bledsoe from the county. Your bus is going to be spending some time in his garage till the federal boys are done with it.”
The deputy, a man in his late forties, unfolded his stork-like frame from the chair and shook Seth’s hand. He waved to Abby, suggesting she take his seat, but she shook her head and declined. He sat back down. “Dash’s staff is gathering in the restaurant, and I’ll be helping the Emporia department keep things running for the interviews with the ATF.”
“Anything you need from me, just let me know,” Seth said. “Any idea how long they’ll be holding the bus?”
“Not my call, but I’d guess at least a few days, maybe a week.”
A rap on the doorframe announced the arrival of Special Agent Kincaid. He stepped into the room and introduced himself to Dash and Deputy Bledsoe before turning to Abby. “My men will be finishing up at your place soon, Miss Delaney.” He looked at Seth and held out his cell phone. “Here you go, Mr. Caldwell. Turned out to be very interesting.”
“Really? How so?” Seth leaned forward and reclaimed his phone. His voice was tense, as if not entirely sure he’d like the answer.
Kincaid looked at Dash. “The phone used to send Mr. Caldwell a text message this morning belongs to one of your employees.”
Dash’s brow furrowed. “Who would that be?”
“Kevin Merinar.”
“Kevin? He sent Seth a text?” Dash’s eyes squinted in confusion.
“Someone using his phone did. Have you been able to reach him today? Is he coming in for the interview?”
Dash shook his head. “I’ve been tryin’ to call him all morning, and it goes straight to voicemail. I asked one of the other boys to stop by his apartment, but it don’t look like he’s there.” He took a noisy slurp from a supersized soft drink cup and dribbled a wet patch onto his shirt. “Not unusual, though. After we have an event, he likes to find a party somewhere. Might not even be home yet, sleeping it off in somebody’s living room.”
Kincaid frowned. “Any ideas how we might find him? The message was sent locally, but the phone isn’t active right now, so we can’t track it. It’s crucial we talk to him.”
Rubbing his chin—or chins—Dash said, “I expect him here tomorrow morning, around ten. He’s scheduled to do setup for a retirement party. Boy might drink some when he’s not working, but he’s reliable. I figure he’ll show up then.”
Kincaid didn’t look pleased by this bit of news. He scrubbed blunt fingers through the graying hair at his temple. “If you hear from him, please let me know right away.”
Dash said he would, and accepted the business card Kincaid offered.
Kincaid turned his attention once again to Seth. “After we were done checking out the source of the message, we kept the phone off. I’d like you to check it now, see if you’ve gotten any more messages.”
Abby took a step closer to Seth, prepared to be supportive if he heard something he didn’t like.
“Let me know if you hear anything,” said Kincaid. “In the meantime, I talked to the other response team right before I arrived here. Your friends should be back by now. They mentioned going to the bar down the street. Something about needing ‘several dozen drinks.’”
Seth blew out an amused breath. “I know how they feel.” He stuck his phone in his pocket and put a hand on Abby’s back. “Should we go on down there?”
She knew they had to, but part of her was deeply apprehensive at the thought. Seth needed to see his friends, but knowing one of them might be involved in the attempt to blast him to bits was sure to introduce a certain amount of tension. “Yeah, we should. I want to give Mom a call first, though, and see if she can call the insurance agent for me.”
“We’ll call Miss Delaney’s number if we learn anything,” Kincaid said. “We might have preliminary results on the liquor bottle later today.”
“Fine,” Abby said as she and Seth moved toward the door. She was eager to get out of the cramped office.
They walked through the club, slowing as they passed the restaurant. Abby glanced through the open double doors and saw about a dozen people scattered among the tables. Sammy and Karl moved from group to group with notebooks in their hands. Three ATF Special Agents conferred with Chief LeFevre, and Abby surmised the questioning would soon get underway.
Shortly before they reached the door leading to the alley and parking lot beyond, Seth pulled her into a shallow alcove, which once held a pair of pay phones. He slid his arms around her, and she leaned into his chest.
“I need to see Marsh and everybody,” he said, “but I wish I didn’t.”
She could feel the tension in his arms, and brushed her hands lightly up and down his back, hoping to soothe him. “I know. I don’t want to think of any of them being mixed up in this. I’m voting for the songwriter guy. What was his name?”
“Drew Purcell.”
“Yeah, him. If this were one of my books, I could make it work.” She put her arms around his neck. Since she was wearing flat, beaded sandals, she had to look up several inches to meet his eyes.
“I wish it worked that way,” he said. “But Purcell is as good a bet as any right now. He’s definitely mad enough.”
“Have you seen him since the court thing?”
Seth nodded. “A few times. He likes to come to shows and make a scene, holding signs calling us thieves. We have a restraining order, though, so he can’t get inside. But there’s one interesting fact.”
“What?”
“He’s from Owensboro, Kentucky.”
Abby leaned back a smidge, in order to get a better view of Seth’s face. “Why is that interesting?”
“Owensboro is right across the Ohio River from Cincinnati.”
Cincinnati. Where Seth was so sick a few nights ago. “And you didn’t mention this before…why?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t put it all together till a few minutes ago. I didn’t even know the bottle had been messed with till I got the text. Still processing, I guess.”
Abby took a moment to do a little processing of her own. “Okay, but it totally puts him at the top of my suspect list.”
“Mine too, I think. I need to see the guys, but first I want to talk to Joey. He’s giving me shit for not calling him back.”
“And I’ll talk to Mom. I’ve had my phone off, and she might’ve called with questions or something.”
“I hope she’s as efficient as everybody keeps saying.” His hands glided low on her hips, holding her body to his. It didn’t seem especially appropriate when she was about to call her mother, but Abby couldn’t object. Not when it felt so wonderful. “The sooner she gets done there, the sooner we’ll have the house to ourselves.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Abby replied.
Seth nuzzled her hair. “When we get back, we’re going to pick up right there. We’ll forget about all this other stuff for the rest of the day, and let the people in charge deal with the whole mess.”
“Can you really do that?” She wanted it to be true. She craved time to simply absorb the sensation of being together, to try on the fit of being a couple. His intensity had knocked her for a loop, and the mere sight of him still stole her breath. Caroline was right about him. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and having his raw, unfiltered emotion directed at her made her ache and quake at the same time.
“You better believe it. I’m not dumb enough not to take it seriously, but what’s happening between us is the most important thing in the world right now.” His lips brushed hers as if to emphasize his point. “I want it to be just us, watching Dilbert chase ducks, then sharing a blanket on the couch, watching a movie we don’t even care about.” The tense lines that had bracketed his eyes all day softened. “No cops.” Kiss. “No bombs.” Kiss. “No friends, relatives, neighbors, or random guests.” Kiss. “Just us, and a world full of possibilities.”
If he kept it up, Abby was going to have a moment right there. “That’s sweet, even if it’s completely unrealistic.” But was it?
“How is it unrealistic? Sure, I’m mad as hell, but we have the city, the county, and the feds on the situation. But us, what’s going on, where we go from here…we’re the only ones who can sort it out.”
Damned internal conflict. How could she be so optimistic about a lasting relationship with someone who was—literally—the man of her dreams, yet so scared? As she absorbed his warmth and strength, she hoped they’d have even a little bit of time, because there were things they both needed to know before either of them could make any decisions.
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s all snarled up together, but only the two of us can deal with this part.”
“Exactly.”
He kissed her, turning so her back was pressed to the wall. She considered tightening her arms around his neck and hoisting her legs around his waist, but thought it would send the wrong signal for a not very private alcove in a building full of law-enforcement personnel. Instead, she put her hands on his hips and pulled him against her. Her heart and her hormones merged and ignited, a biochemical detonation of the sweetest kind, flowing through her veins like warm honey. He upped the ante by sneaking one hand under her shirt to fondle her through her bra. His thumb began doing tantalizing things, and her knees weakened at his gentle but intimate touch.
Abby heard voices near the intersection of the hallway and reluctantly broke the kiss. Seth’s hand fell away from her breast, and he stroked her cheek before bestowing a final kiss on her forehead. A mental sigh reminded her to take a physical breath. “Hey. Let’s make those calls and get going.” The hitch in her voice suggested she should have taken two or three more breaths before attempting to speak.
Seth took a half step back, accompanied by a small groan of displeasure. “Guess this isn’t the place, is it?”
“Sadly, no. Call Joey, I’ll call Mom, then we’ll go down to the bar. Afterward, we’ll get to ‘the place.’”
“Few too many steps involved, but I guess that’s the way it is.” A wry smile produced a dimple, which nearly made Abby reconsider her previous statement.
“Afraid so.” Abby reluctantly moved several yards down the hall and checked her phone.
As expected, there was a voicemail from her mother, as well as a text from Molly, which said only, “What the hell? Call me!” She texted Molly back she was fine and would talk to her tomorrow and dialed her mom.
Once again, Mom had exceeded all expectations. She said the ATF team had left, and they’d let Butch board up the wall and other window even before they were completely done, since rain was expected. She already called the insurance agent, and he came out to view the damage. The contractor was expected on Monday.
“You’re my daughter.” This was her answer to lots of things, but this time Abby didn’t mind.
“I’m also thirty-four years old. You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Of course I did. You have Seth to worry about. Cleaning up a little household disaster is nothing compared to that.”
Abby laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Don’t worry about dinner. Your fridge is full of, well, it’s full.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too, Abigail. The ladies and I will be out of here in about an hour and a half, maybe sooner. When will you be home?”
“We’re going to the Shamrock to meet up with his band. I don’t know, a few drinks probably, then we’ll head home.”
“Call me tomorrow?”
“Sure. And thanks again.”
“You don’t need to call early, though,” Marilyn said, when Abby thought the conversation already over. “I imagine you and Seth might need to sleep in.” She had an innocent trill to her voice, which Abby knew was anything but. Way to ruin a moment.
“Crap on a cracker, Mom,” she huffed, resisting the urge to drop her phone and stomp on it. “Could we talk a little less about my sex life? Please?”
Mrs. Innocent did a spectacular job of sounding both confused and offended. “Who mentioned any such thing? That would be extremely inappropriate.” As if it’d ever stop her. “I just meant you’ve been through so much today you’ll probably need your rest.”
Abby swallowed a frustrated groan. “Yes, Mother, I’m sure we’ll be quite exhausted. I’m very tired of a lot of things right now. But I’ll call you when I can lift my weary, shell-shocked head and locate the phone.”
Abby hung up, sure she heard her mother chuckle as she did so, and saw Seth still talking to Joey. He noticed her watching him, and held up a finger to indicate he’d be done in a minute. Abby pointed toward the back door, and he nodded his understanding.
