Estelle reached for the door, then stopped and turned to Kayla. “I’m sorry for being such a difficult person. I went out of my way to be unpleasant to you, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Of course.” Kayla’s eyes widened. “I hope everything works out for you.”
“Thanks.” She stepped into the backyard and tromped ahead of Derek.
“You okay, Estelle?” Derek asked as he followed her inside his mom’s house.
“Just nervous, but I’ll be fine.”
“There’s a Bible on the bookshelf in the study. Maybe you’ll find comfort in reading it. My favorite verse is Jeremiah 29:11. It says, ‘For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
“What does that mean?” In the kitchen she pushed the faucet to hot, then squirted soap into the sink.
“It means God loves you so much that He has a plan for your life and He’s going to take care of you. So don’t worry. He’s got everything under control even when things seem out of control.”
A smile stretched her lips. “Thanks.” She nudged his shoulder. “Now go back to your woman.”
He grinned. “Good night, Estelle. See you at church?”
She scrunched her nose. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I heard you talking with your friends about your fans in the service, and I don’t want to create a scene.”
“They promised the pastor that they’d be on their best behavior from now on. Come or don’t. Either way, we’ll head out right after service.” He hustled to the door and across the yard to the cottage, where he found Kayla asleep on the couch, her head tipped to the side, and her lips parted slightly. He knelt in front of her. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “I guess I’m even more tired than I realized.”
He chuckled. “I’ll take you home.” He stood and held out a hand. “Let’s go.” They walked hand in hand to his pickup. Crickets chirped, filling the otherwise quiet night air. Pulling the door open, he waited for Kayla to slip in. Then he jogged to the driver’s side and hopped in. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“I’m not sure. What’s the question?”
“I heard that you have a list, and that you were once Miss Teen Oregon.” He put the truck in gear and pulled out.
She gasped. “How?”
“The church janitor.”
She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead. “Figures.”
He would have laughed but feared she might bite his head off. “I take it you’re not happy he told me.”
“More like I’m mortified. For the record, that pageant was not my idea. When I was sixteen, I won the title of runner-up in the Miss Oregon Teen pageant. I’m proud about what I accomplished, but you have no clue what I went through because of that thing.”
“Then maybe you should tell me.”
She buried her head in her hands for a second and groaned before pulling them away. “This is embarrassing. However, it happened a long time ago, so I’ll try to muddle through it. When I took runner-up in the pageant, I became Miss Popular at school. The guys… Well, I had no shortage of dates. The problem was none of those guys cared about me. They only wanted to go out with me because of the pageant.
“At first all the attention went to my head. I was even dumb enough to fall for one of the guys. It turned out he was only with me to stroke his ego. He didn’t care about me, other than what I did for his social status.”
Her story sounded so much like his own. “What happened?” He almost didn’t want to know, but his insides burned with anger for the way this punk had treated her.
“I can’t… Let’s just say he was the reason I created ‘the list.’” She made air quotes with her fingers.
Now things were beginning to make sense. “Are you still using the list?”
“Kind of.” Her voice came out weak.
“How do I rank?”
“Higher than anyone ever has.”
He grinned and sat a little taller.
“But…”
Oh no. He did not like that word. He braced himself for whatever she was about to say.
“It’s not important. You’re leaving tomorrow and, well, I don’t see how it matters.”
“I’ll be back. It matters.”
“We’ll see. I know you believe what you’re saying, but the lure of fame and fortune is a lot to give up. Once you’re back there, you may change your mind.”
He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Then I guess you’ll have to trust me, won’t you?”
Chapter 16
Derek sat at a conference table in a too-small room of the Los Angeles FBI field office. Unease wrapped its tentacles around him. FBI Special Agent Price stood at the head of the table in a black suit and nondescript tie. Everything about the agent was nondescript except his personality, which was sorely lacking compassion.
“Mr. Wood, I understand why you don’t want to go along with this plan, but it is the only way to protect Miss Rogers.” The agent shot an admiring glance toward Estelle.
This was not what he wanted. He ran a hand through his hair, wishing he were back in Oak Knoll, where men like Special Agent Price didn’t exist. Apparently he was expected to return to business as usual in order to convince Jerry he’d won so he wouldn’t destroy Estelle’s career. “When I came here, it was as moral support, not to get involved in some FBI operation. Why can’t you arrest Jerry? You have him on blackmail charges. Isn’t that enough?”
“Sir. There is more at stake here than blackmail, but I’m not at liberty to say anything further. You may choose not to do this, but Miss Rogers will pay the price with her reputation if you don’t help. We all know Mr. Smith will follow through with his threat.”
He ground his teeth and stifled a growl of frustration. “Fine, but I need to be back in Oak Knoll by April twenty-ninth.”
“We will do our best to have this wrapped up by then. Do you understand what we need you to do?”
“Yes. I go to the recording studio tomorrow and begin work on my next album, which, for the record, is a complete waste of time and money.” He had no intention of finishing the album.
“There are things in play you don’t know about. If you are at the studio, we can keep you safe. Understand?”
Derek nodded, suddenly feeling like a spoiled child. He could only assume the FBI had imbedded agents into the studio for their investigation and would be there if anything went wrong. But what did the studio have to do with Jerry? He’d never worked with this studio. “If we’re done here…?”
“Yes. We’ll be in touch. Remember, act normal.”
“Right.” Normal? What was normal anymore? Was normal living the high life here in LA, or was it spending his days working on church and community business? He knew which one he wanted to be normal and it included plenty of time with Kayla. He glanced at Estelle. “You ready to get out of here?”
She nodded and stood. “Thank you for doing this. I know it’s a sacrifice, and if there was any other way—”
“It’s not your fault Jerry is a lying, thieving, lawbreaking scumbag.”
Estelle chuckled. “Sorry, but I’ve never heard you talk like that.”
He shrugged. “First time for everything. Right?” What was he going to tell his mom? She expected him to take the red-eye and be home by morning.
After dropping Estelle at her house, he headed to a hotel since he’d sublet his condo when he’d left for Italy.
Lord, please help this to be over with quickly.
He pulled his cell from his pocket and called his mom. She answered on the first ring. “Hey, Mom. I wanted you to know I’m here, and it looks like I’m going to be away longer than I thought.” He explained the situation. “If you need anything—”
“I have friends, so stop worrying.” Her words, though still a little slow, were clear, and that put a smile on his face. She had made remarkable pr
ogress.
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Be careful.”
“I will. Bye.” He punched in Kayla’s number and waited and waited. Voice mail picked up. “Kayla, it’s Derek. Things here are going to take longer than I thought. I’m really sorry. I’ll try to catch you later.” He disconnected the call. Now what?
In the old days he’d go out to a nice restaurant, then hit a club to keep his face in the tabloids. Clubbing wasn’t his thing and he’d stayed only long enough for the paparazzi to snap his picture.
Jerry would expect him to fall into his old patterns and might become suspicious if he stayed in. But it was his first night back, and he was due in the studio early tomorrow. Jerry must have had this booked for months anticipating he’d be back. He’d just grab a bite in the hotel restaurant after he checked in.
He pulled into the Hilton and parked. His cell phone played the tune he’d assigned to Kayla. “Hey there.”
“Hey, yourself. I got your message. Is everything okay?”
“Not exactly, but it will be soon, I hope.”
“Cryptic.”
“Sorry.” He told her what was going on. “I wish I could say I’ll be home soon like I’d planned, but things here aren’t what I expected.”
“It’s okay. You’re doing the right thing and that’s what’s important.”
“Thanks for understanding. How is everything there?”
“A construction crew gutted the shop today. I’m still hoping everything will be finished by the festival, but it will be close.”
He already missed seeing her sparkling eyes. “While I’m gone, we should plan to talk on Skype.”
“That’s a great idea!”
Derek’s lips stretched into a smile. Maybe being here wouldn’t be so miserable after all. At least he had something to look forward to.
* * *
From her window seat at Java World, Kayla watched as two men replaced the front window of Flowers and More. In a week and a half the construction crew had made incredible progress. Best of all, their landlord said it’d be finished by this weekend, which meant with a lot of hard work their grand reopening would coincide with the festival.
She sipped her coffee and made a mental list of all that needed to be done. Jill had taken the vacation she’d encouraged Kayla to take and would be back on Friday—perfect timing. She probably should have taken the chance to get away, too, but there were so many festival details to tend to that taking off would not have been relaxing.
“Hey there. I thought I might find you here.”
Kayla looked to her left. “Mom.” She jumped up and hugged her. “When did you get home?”
“Just drove into town and saw your car.” Her mom pulled out a chair and sat.
Kayla reached for her purse. “Would you like a coffee?”
“I ordered a latte.”
The barista called out her mother’s name and she stood. “Be right back.” A moment later Mom sat and cradled a mug. “How are you doing?”
“I’ve been better, but all things considered, things are moving along well.”
Mom nodded. “What about Derek? Any word when he’ll be back?”
“No.” Sadness washed through Kayla at the mention of his name. She’d been trying to avoid thinking about him, instead keeping her focus on the festival, because the longer he was gone, the more she missed him and then her imagination took flight.
Mom reached across the table and rested her hand on Kayla’s. “What is it, sweetie?”
Kayla started. Her mom was too perceptive. “I thought I was doing a good job hiding my unease.”
She chuckled. “I’m your mother. You can’t fool me. What’s wrong?”
“Besides the fact my store was destroyed, the festival starts next week and…” The man I love isn’t here.
“And?”
Kayla shook her head. “It’s silly, but I miss Derek.”
“There’s nothing silly about that.”
“Thanks. You never said when the big day is.” While Mom was in Florida meeting with Stan’s family, she’d talked with her quite a lot. His kids were understandably shocked by their announcement, but they’d eventually warmed up to her.
“We were thinking we might elope. We’ve both been married before, and neither of us wants to plan a big wedding.”
“Hmm. Okay. What about a reception? You could do a small one here and one in Florida for his friends and family.”
“That’s a lovely idea. I’ll see what Stan thinks.” Mom cleared her throat. “I hate to bring this up now, but I know how you need time to chew on things.”
Kayla’s shoulders tensed.
“I’m moving to Florida once we’re married.”
The tension in her shoulders eased. “Oh, is that all? I thought… Actually, I don’t know what I thought. But I expected you to move there. With his law practice, he couldn’t pick up and move here.”
She beamed a smile. “Thank you for understanding. I was afraid you’d be upset.”
“I’ll miss you, but now I know where to go for that vacation I’ve been talking about taking.”
“Wonderful!” Mom got to her feet, holding the latte she hadn’t even taken a sip of. “I have laundry to do, and I want to call Stan. I’ll see you later.” She breezed outside and disappeared from sight.
Kayla resumed her vigil of watching over the store’s progress. The new plate-glass window seemed bare without the store’s name painted on it, but Jill would take care of that this weekend.
Her cell jingled a new tune she’d just bought—a DJ Parker song she’d assigned to his number. “Hi, Derek.”
“Hi, yourself. How’s it going?”
“Things at the store are moving along well, and I was told we can move in this coming weekend.”
“That’s great. I wish I could be there to help.”
She tried very hard not to be disappointed. “No worries. Charlie will be there, and I think he was able to get a small army to help with the heavy stuff.”
“Good.”
“You’re still planning to be here for the festival, right?”
“Of course.”
She heard voices rumble through the phone. “It sounds like you’re busy.”
“Yeah. We’re recording today.”
“Are you really going to put out a new album?”
“It looks that way. I still can’t believe how quickly this thing came together. It helped that I’d already written half the songs.”
Kayla swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yeah, I imagine that helped a lot.” The longer he was gone, the more it felt as if he was never coming back. She knew how things worked. If he released a new album, there would be a publicity tour, concerts, television appearances…
“I need to go. Don’t forget our Skype session next week.”
“I won’t. Bye.” She laid the phone on the table and sighed. She had to keep reminding herself why he was doing what he was doing—it was the right thing. People were counting on him, and she could get along without him. But when would he return?
Chapter 17
Derek stared out the window of the FBI conference room. He never liked Mondays and today was no exception. He worked his jaw in an effort to keep his temper under control. After taking a few deeps breaths to calm down, he turned to face Special Agent Price. “I’m supposed to be in Oregon on Friday morning. I’m pulling a parade float that I built, and on the last night of the festival, I’m doing a concert. I need this to end.”
“I hear you. And I need you to trust me and continue to do what you are doing.”
“Jerry is on my case about living in a hotel. What do you suggest I tell him?” He crossed his arms.
“That you sublet your condo.”
“I did. He told me to kick the guy out.”
Price’s jaw tightened, and he looked ready to lose his temper. Maybe Derek had sounded petty and pushed too hard to end this, but they were entering the week of the festival,
and he’d never expected to still be in Los Angeles. He’d made a promise to Kayla, and he wanted to keep it. But there was no way he’d leave until Jerry was behind bars, or it all would have been for nothing. Jerry expected the old Derek. The performer who followed his instructions and put his career above all else.
“I don’t care what you tell him—just make it believable. What does Jerry have planned for you this coming weekend?”
The glint in Agent Price’s eyes made his stomach knot. The man’s normal coolness was replaced by an edge Derek was unaccustomed to seeing. Was something going to happen soon? “He said something about a nightclub on Saturday night, but I don’t know. I need to be in Oregon.”
“I know. We are very close to making an arrest, and I don’t want you doing anything that will spook him. Go along with whatever he wants. I’ll be in touch.” He opened the door and motioned for Derek to leave. “And, Derek?”
He turned back with a raised brow.
“You’re doing a great job. You know I can’t give any details, but everything is going to work out. And one more thing. No more contact with your girlfriend or anyone else back home until this over.”
“Why? Did I do something to tip Jerry off?”
He shook his head. “The man is getting nervous. Something big is coming up and he’s jumpy. That’s more than I should have said. Don’t worry—you’re safe. We just don’t want an overheard or intercepted conversation to compromise all that we’ve been doing.”
A surge of anger gripped him. It was a good thing the FBI was involved, because Jerry had stepped over the line. He didn’t bother questioning Price further. Kayla would understand once he was home and able to explain. At least this craziness was almost over. The thought eased his anger and with a little extra spring in his step, he headed to the studio to meet with the record label. An hour later he pulled into the lot and walked in through the double glass doors.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Parker,” a young receptionist greeted him.
He lifted his chin and raised a hand.
A Valentine for Kayla Page 13
