by Seven Steps
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
They stood there, their eyes communing, their hearts beating in time.
“I got you something,” he said.
“Yes, I saw the room.” She grinned. “Thank you.”
“No, something else.”
He took her hand and walked her over to a brand new recliner, placed right next to his old one.
She gasped, ran her hand over the brown leather.
“Is this mine?”
“A queen’s throne is next to the king’s, right?”
He sat, threw his feet up, and waved her to do the same.
The leather was soft, hugging every curve as she sank into it.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“I love it.”
“Great!”
“But I can’t keep it,” she said, her eyes turning sad.
“Why?”
“Noah, I’m only on this tour for five more days. Then I’m going home.”
“Let’s not think about that now.” His words were short, clipped.
She sat back in the recliner, halfheartedly making conversation with the crowd that pressed in on them, asking questions in broken English, posing for pictures with their king. She had to go back to school soon, no matter how much he wanted her to stay. She hoped that he knew, that he understood. She’d tell him again tonight.
She watched Dondo come and go with a new girl, and sank deeper in her chair. She felt helpless. She couldn’t save her. If she went to the police, they wouldn’t believe her without evidence. If she went to Noah, he wouldn’t believe her. She couldn’t fight off Dondo, and the girl wouldn’t understand her anyway.
I can’t do anything to save her, she thought. I know she’s going to die tonight, but I can’t stop it.
The thought haunted her as Noah escorted her to his limo and drove her back to the hotel.
“I finally got you to ride in the limo,” he said, his grin wide.
She halfheartedly smiled back, her mind trapped in worry over the new girl on Dondo’s arm. The worry stayed with her as he led her upstairs and to her room. It drifted through her psyche as they reclined on the bed. It tore through her gut as they lay in each other’s arms and watched Oklahoma! on the flat screen television.
After his jokes about Ado Annie’s whorish tendencies and Judd Frye’s bullish stupidity were met with silence, he leaned his head down, kissing her earlobe until she shivered to attention.
“You are one distracted girl,” he whispered.
How can I make him believe me? she wondered. How can I convince him that his best friend is a killer when I don’t have any proof?
“I’m just thinking,” she replied.
“About what?”
“About those girls,” she said.
“Me too.”
Cassie’s eyes opened wide in shock as she turned around.
“I can’t afford to lose any more Rocktards. So, I thought about what you said, and I did some research. And you were right. The murders have been happening along my tour route.”
“You believe me?”
“At first, no. But now, I think that you may have some valid points.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Well, I spoke to the local police and they have agreed to place extra details around the concert. The last girl, Stacy, found a way to fight back. She had some skin under her fingernails. The police are testing a sample here, and sending another sample back to America to see if there are any matches. In the meantime, I made it very clear to Dondo that he is not to take home any more girls until we got this worked out.”
Her eyes went wide. “You told him?”
“I didn’t tell him that you were suspicious. I said that the cops were tracking a killer who has been following my tour route. I told him that, for the good of us all, he was not to bring any more girls back to the hotel.”
She threw her arms around him, holding him tight.
“Thank you for listening to me,” she said.
He held her to him.
“I don’t think that Dondo is a killer,” he replied. “But, I trust your gut. And it can’t hurt to take a few precautions.”
She pressed her lips to his, her body snaking around his. His body tightened, and he pulled away.
“Well, I could take more precautions if you want.”
She kissed his grin away, kept kissing him until he put his forehead to her shoulders and wrapped himself around her. His trust touched her. She wiped away a tear.
“You believed in me,” she replied. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
“I will always believe in you, Cas,” he said against her ear. “I will spend the rest of my life believing in you. You are the only person I’ve ever met who didn’t want me for my fame or my money or my music. You just want me for me, and for that I will always trust you.”
She smiled, feeling his words deep in her soul. “Who said I wanted you?” she teased.
His lips brushed over her shoulders, his fingers splayed over her belly. “Let’s just call it a gut feeling.”
She hoped that he couldn’t feel her tremble.
“Come to the Grammys with me.”
She flipped around to him.
“When?”
An image of her in a long black dress popped into her mind. Excitement ran through her.
“In two days.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
He grinned against her mouth before kissing her, and laying his head back down on the pillow.
“What will we tell them?” she asked.
“Tell who?”
“Them. The media, the press. When they see us together, what will we tell them?”
“If anyone ask, we’ll tell them that you’re my manager’s daughter.”
Her heart sank in her chest.
She hoped her voice didn’t come out as choked as it felt. “Okay.”
There was a brief pause, a stilling of his breath.
“What would you want me to tell them?” he asked.
She closed her eyes, tried to close her heart. She didn’t want him to know the word that ran across her mind. Girlfriend. It was too soon, and besides, she was leaving in a few days.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess manager’s daughter is fine.”
He didn’t reply.
She wondered if he would ever think of her as a girlfriend. A small part of her hoped that he would. A larger part of her knew that it couldn’t be. After all, her mother had raised her to be a good, Christian girl. She couldn’t give him what he wanted, at least not now. Not unless they were married.
“You think loudly,” he said.
“What?”
“You think out loud.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you tense up, stop breathing, tap your foot, bite your nails. It’s like a little factory in there.”
She squeezed her lips together, quickly removed her thumbnail from her mouth.
“What are you thinking about, sweets?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing always means something.”
“I’m just thinking, that’s all.”
“It was too soon to ask you to the awards, wasn’t it?” he asked. “You’re freaking out about it?”
“No, that’s not it at all.”
“Then what is it?”
“I just, well, what are we doing?”
“Like, laying here?”
“Yes, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean…Noah, I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“I didn’t expect you to.”
She bolted up, stared at him.
“What?”
“Is that why you think I’m here?” One of his eyebrows rose. “Because I’m trying to get laid?”
She looked away.
His eyes turned sharp. “Not that I don’t want to, and not that I haven’t been thinking about it, but, well, i
t that what you thought?”
Squeezing her lips together, she shifted in the bed, twiddled her fingers. “Kinda.”
He let out an irritated huff.
Her voice turned soft. “If you want to go, then I understand.”
“What is your name?”
Her eyes floated up to him.
“Cassie.”
His face set hard, demanding. “Your full name.”
“Cassandra Cortana Washington.”
“Say it again.”
“Cassandra Cortana Washington.”
“Say it again.”
“Cassandra Cortana Washington.”
“You have a name, Cas. Remember it. Remember who you are and where you’re going. You have dreams. You’ve already finished nursing school. You’re going to start your residency soon, then you’ll be a full-fledged doctor. And if you’re saving it for marriage, great. Wonderful. Perfect. I respect that and I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.” He lay back down, put his hands behind his head, and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m happy just laying here, watching old movies, and eating popcorn as long as it’s with you.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He looked at her, his eyes turning soft. “I’m sure.”
She lay back down, snuggled next to him, feeling like a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.
“You know, most guys wouldn’t, you know, be sure.”
“I’m not most guys, Cas.”
“Most rock stars wouldn’t be sure.”
He paused. “I get the whole religion thing. My dad was religious for a little while. I liked it. It’s not for me right now, but, if you’re into it, then I respect it.” He kissed the top of her head. “I respect you, Cassandra Cortana Washington.”
Peace fell over her. She felt safe in his arms, with full knowledge that he would never do anything to hurt her. He respected her. The thought sent golden rays of light through her heart.
“Could you sing to me?” she asked.
“Ah, the inevitable question. Everybody wants a song.” He chuckled. “What do you want to hear?”
“I don’t know. Surprise me.”
He thought a minute, then nestled close, his mouth only a hair away from her ear.
He sang the lyrics of Queen’s “Somebody To Love” to her, using her belly as a piano as he played the imaginary chords.
A tear dripped down her cheek.
She wondered if he knew that the lyrics were going straight to her heart.
***
When she awoke, he was still there, his arms snaked around her. He was still wearing his clothes from the night before.
She shifted, turning her entire body toward him as he snored softly.
Her eyes went wide.
Three scratches reddened each side of his neck. Scratches that looked like they came from fingernails.
Her breath caught, she closed her eyes against it. Didn’t Stacey scratch her killer? Was it Noah’s DNA under her lifeless nails?
No. There had to be another explanation.
Her musing was cut short by the sounds of voices outside her door. Multiple voices. Urgent voices. One rose above them all.
“Noah!” it cried.
She sat up in the bed, pushing back the hair that had fallen into her eyes.
“Noah!”
Noah didn’t stir.
She shook him awake. “Noah, someone’s calling you.”
He tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her back down to him.
“Noah!” it called again.
She tried to wriggle out of his vicelike grip. He responded by pulling her closer.
“Baby, you have to get up.”
He grunted something and smiled in his sleep.
“No, really.” She pushed him away, hard. “Get up.”
“What?” he growled, opening one eye.
“Someone is calling your name.”
“What? Who?”
“I don’t know.”
The voice screamed again. “Noah!”
Noah’s body shot up. He threw the covers off of him, jogged to the door.
He snatched the door open, Cassie hot on his heels.
Dozens of police officers paced the hallway. Dondo was in the middle of them, his hands cuffed behind his back as he lay face down on the floor.
“Dondo!” Noah cried, running to his oldest friend.
“I didn’t do it, Noah,” Dondo said. “Whatever they tell you, I didn’t do it. I barely knew the girl.”
“The girl?”
“Mr. LaRock.” An officer tapped him on the shoulder. His black hair curled around his neck, his pink lips full and pursed.
“Who are you?” Noah asked.
“I am Officer Pierre LaButte.” His English was broken every so often when he muttered in French.
“Let him go,” Noah said. “He’s innocent.”
“We cannot. Mr. Rodriguez has been charged with murder.”
“Murder?”
“Yes. Please follow me.” The officer’s eyes were solemn as Noah followed him back to Dondo’s room.
Cassie kept close by.
There, in the middle of the floor, was a suitcase. A leg and arm protruded from the sides.
Noah turned away, put his hand over his mouth.
“Who was that?” he muttered, his voice choked.
“Her name was Maris Beau,” Officer LaButte said. “She was murdered sometime last night. It seems that Mr. Rodriguez has been on, how do you say, a streak.”
“No,” Noah said. “Dondo couldn’t have done this.”
“We will see. We will send away for a DNA test. If Mr. Rodriguez’s DNA matches with the DNA from the German girl, he will be tried for murder.”
“How long will the test take?”
Pierre muttered in French, “A few days.”
“Until then?”
“Until then, Mr. Rodriguez will be put into La Santé Prison. Because of his connections with you, he will be put into the VIP wing.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that he will be well taken care of.”
Officer LaButte gestured to a fellow officer, who picked Dondo off the floor.
Dondo’s eyes went wide, his mouth pulled into a frown.
“Noah, you have to listen to me. I didn’t kill that girl.”
“I’ll get you out of this, Dondo.”
The officer pulled Dondo into the elevator, as Noah stayed close behind.
“Don’t worry, Dondo,” he said. “I’ll get you out of this.”
“Noah, don’t let them keep me,” Dondo said, fear heavy on his face.
“I won’t. I’ll get you out.” The elevator door closed.
Dondo was gone.
Chapter 24
Noah
“I’m sorry, Noah.” Aaron Greenberg’s round face looked back at Noah and Walter from the computer screen. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for weeks.”
Noah sat back in the hotel chair, flabbergasted.
“It can’t all be gone,” Noah said.
“No, not all of it. But, if we keep going in the direction we’re going, it will be. We have to liquidate some assets, downsize. Now, if we sell the houses in Costa Rica, get rid of a few cars maybe…” He continued yammering as he shuffled paper around on his desk.
Noah couldn’t believe it. In the last year, his income had been cut in half. He rubbed his hands across his face as he tried to wrap his mind around it all.
“Noah, are you listening to me?” Aaron asked, using his pointer finger to push his glasses up his nose. “We have some real decisions to make here.”
“Just take care of it.”
He huffed. “I can’t just take care of it. I don’t know what you want me to get rid of.”
“All of it. Sell all of it.”
Walter gasped next to him. “All of it?”
“Yeah, everything. Just get rid of everything.”
/> Noah slammed down the laptop screen, yanked the computer free from its cord in the wall, and hurled it across the room with a yell. It slammed into the door of the bathroom, its plastic case cracking.
“Noah, calm down.”
“It’s gone, Walter. There’s nothing to be calm about. I’m broke, Dondo is in jail, I can’t, I just can’t.” He went down to his knees, spearing his hands through his hair.
“You just have to cut back, that’s all. You were living a lavish lifestyle.”
“That’s because I had money. Now what am I going to do?”
“You still have money, Noah. And once we’re done with this tour, you’ll have more. And after the next album and the next tour, you’ll have more than that.”
Noah chuckled miserably. “Next album. I don’t even have a label.”
“Now you let old Papa Bear worry about that.”
“Papa Bear. What’s Papa Bear been doing?” His voice turned demanding, and he stood up to his full height, walking toward Walter. “My label dropped me, I’m practically broke, my best friend is in jail, my albums aren’t selling, my concerts are practically empty. What have you been doing, Papa Bear?”
Walter stood tall. “I’ve been working! I’ve been holding on for you as best as I can.”
“Well, maybe you’re not working hard enough.”
“Don’t you say that to me. I gave up my life for you! I gave up my family for you!”
“Don’t give me that. You wanted this, the fame, the fortune.”
“I wanted you to be a success.”
“You wanted yourself to be a success!” Noah roared. “And because you couldn’t do it, you got that high through me. And now you’re pushing your daughter through med school so you can get that high through her too.”
“You know nothing about my daughter and me,” Walter growled. “You bite your tongue, boy!”
“I’m not a boy anymore.”
“Then act like it. Be a man, step up and do what you have to do. Take care of your business and be a man.”
“What, like you? Great man you turned out to be. You abandoned your family, and now you’ve crapped all over my career. Way to go, Papa Bear.”
Walter took a wild swing.
Noah sidestepped it.
Another swing.
Noah stepped to the side again, and pushed Walter to the ground.
The men froze, stared at each other silently.
