“He saw that lady wearing a shirt like his,” said Melody innocently.
“What lady?” quizzed Lori, totally confused as to who Jake could have seen in the restaurant.
“The lady teacher. The lady that was at the show for Uncle Rich,” explained Melody seriously.
“Nicole?”
Melody nodded.
“When did you see her?”
Snuggling down, Melody said, “She was at the pizza place. I saw her staring at us. She was wearing the same shirt as Daddy had on at the show. Daddy saw her too. That was when he said we needed to go.”
Trying to make sense of what her daughter was saying, Lori said, “That wouldn’t make your daddy angry. It has to be something else. Something to do with the band or the album.”
“You’re wrong, Mommy,” contradicted Melody quietly. “He got mad when he saw her watching us eating our ice creams.”
“If you say so,” dismissed Lori with a smile. “Now, time you were asleep. You need to be up early for school tomorrow. Oh, I promised your brother we’d go down onto the beach after school to watch the dolphins.”
“Can I play in the ocean?”
“We’ll all play in the ocean,” promised Lori. “Now, night night, angel. Sweet dreams.”
Back out in the hallway, Lori felt a chill rattle down her spine. She still wasn’t sure what had happened back at the restaurant but something told her that Melody had innocently hit the nail on the head. Suddenly, Maddy’s warning about Nicole flashed through her mind. Was the music teacher stalking Jake?
Down in the basement, Jake sat at the desk with his head in his hands, his long blonde hair hiding his face and his tear-filled eyes. The look of fear in his kids’ faces as he’d yelled at them was haunting him almost as much as the image of Nicole sitting in the restaurant wearing his missing vest tee. How had she managed to get her hands on his shirt? Casting his mind back to the memorial show, he recalled taking his shirt off as he’d entered the dressing room just before he took his post-show shower. He’d dropped it on the table where the bottles of water had been sitting. Had Nicole been in the dressing room? He couldn’t remember. He knew she’d been at the side of the stage so following them to the dressing room would have been easy. She must have taken the shirt while he took his shower.
Upstairs, he could hear Lori moving about. He heard her pull her chair out from the desk and deduced that she’d decided to work late too. Damn! How was he going to explain his behaviour to her? If only he hadn’t yelled at the kids….
With a heavy heart, Jake lifted his Mz Hyde custom guitar from its stand and began to play, picking out a slow but delicately sad melody.
It was after two in the morning before he set his guitar back on its stand. That initial spur of the moment melody had sparked a new song with a slightly oriental vibe to it. Focussing on writing and developing the new piece of music had gradually soothed his soul. Praying that Lori was already asleep, he wearily climbed the stairs back up to the house.
The small bedside lamp was still lit, casting shadows on the walls of the bedroom. As he’d hoped, Lori looked to be sound asleep. Her long blonde hair was woven into one thick braid that curled on the crisp white pillow as she lay on her side, facing away from him. With a wistful smile, Jake thought how beautifully peaceful she looked as she slept. Quietly, he removed his clothes then, still in his boxers, he slipped into bed. For a moment or two, Jake lay beside his wife watching her sleep, thinking how deeply he loved her.
He’d come close to losing her once, thanks to Salazar Mendes. There was no way he was risking his marriage and his family through the behaviour of Nicole Tonriverdi.
Next morning Jake was out at JJL not long after sunrise. Sleep had failed to come and, after a couple of hours of staring at the ceiling, he’d surrendered. Leaving everyone else in the house asleep, he’d driven out to the studio, stopping only to pick up a coffee and a cinnamon sugar, soft pretzel en route. The studio was still locked up and, unsure if Dr Marrs would be awake, Jake decided to sit round the side of the building with his breakfast and his guitar.
For the first time, he noticed that someone had put a picnic bench in a small gap in the trees to the side of the main building. It was bathed in early morning sunlight.
Setting his coffee cup on the rough wooden surface of the table, Jake lowered himself down onto the low bench seat. The creaking of the wood, as it took his weight, seemed to echo through the surrounding trees.
In the early morning sun, he found himself thinking back to his time in rehab and to the coping strategies he’d learned from Frank and Ella. His mind was still in a state of turmoil after the events of the previous day. Hearing Frank’s soothing voice in his head, Jake sat still in the sunshine, working his way through some of the exercises he’d been taught, focussing on his breathing, on the sounds around him, on the textures under his feet and on the heat of the sun on his skin.
“Someone’s keen!”
Dr Marrs’ cheerful greeting startled him back to reality.
“Mornin’,” said Jake, forcing a smile.
“What brings you out here so early?” quizzed the producer, taking a seat opposite him at the picnic table.
“Long story,” muttered Jake half under his breath before adding, “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Well, since you’re here,” began Jim. “Want to make a start?”
Jake nodded, “Sure. I’ll need to finish early. Got a few things to sort out at home.”
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” said Jake, sounding unconvincing even to himself.
“We could take a day or two off if it helps,” suggested Jim Marrs, sensing that the musician was troubled.
“Jim, it’s fine,” assured Jake. “I yelled at the kids last night. I was out of order. Scared the shit out of them. I need to earn back some Daddy points.”
“Kids are great at pushing our buttons, that’s for sure?”
“Didn’t know you had kids,” commented Jake, getting to his feet.
“Grown-up now,” revealed Jim. “I got divorced when they were still in diapers. Barely saw them growing up. My daughter’s twenty-six, lives in Texas. My son’s out in LA with my ex-wife. He’s thirty this year. He’s a music producer.”
“Like father like son,” joked Jake, noting that it was rare for Dr Marrs to mention his personal life.
“Yeah. He works at JJL West. We’re working at that father/son bit. Lot of ancient history to work through.”
“I can relate to that,” laughed Jake. “My father was last heard of chartering yachts in the Caribbean. Haven’t seen him since Jesse was born. He was never big on the father/son thing with me. It was different with my brothers. They followed him into the military.
“Well, I’m sure your relationship with Jesse won’t end up like that,” said Jim warmly. “That kid’s a character.”
“That kid’s a handful.”
At Jake’s request, Dr Marrs kept the lighting in the live room dimmed while he set up and brought his guitar into tune. As they’d made a pot of coffee, they’d debated what to track first, eventually deciding to aim for two complete songs by mid-afternoon. Declaring that Jake didn’t seem to be in the right frame of mind to tackle some of the heavier tracks, Dr Marrs proposed that they track two of the slower, more blues-based songs. To Jake, it sounded as good a plan as any.
While the producer was getting organised, Jake sat on one of the low stools and began to play largely for himself. Idly, he played the melancholy, oriental melody he’d been working on all night.
“Hey, I like that,” called through Jim Marrs.
“Thanks. Not sure it’s right for Silver Lake though.”
“Could be right for a Jake Power solo record,” commented Dr Marrs casually.
“Solo record?” echoed Jake. “No way! I’ve only done one solo show and that was years ago up at Dover air force base. Never been so nervous about playing before or since!”
“Silver Lake fans would
love it,” teased Jim. “Worth a thought once this album cycle is complete.”
“Hmph,” muttered Jake.
It wasn’t the first time someone had suggested a solo project.
A few minutes later, Jim called through to say he was ready to start work on track three. It’s working title was Gone Today Tomorrow Forever and was one of the few tracks that didn’t have any contributions from Rich. For over an hour, Jake played about with the guitar parts and the solo but he just wasn’t getting the right vibe or tone. He’d tried three of his electric guitars and two different acoustics, including the 1940s Gibson he’d bought from Mike, but still that certain something was missing.
“Jake,” called through Jim eventually. “I’m going to make a radical suggestion here.”
“Which is?”
“I think I know…. in fact, I’m sure I know what guitar this song needs.”
Jake looked up from the Gibson acoustic and stared at the producer.
“No,” he said simply.
“Jake, humour me, please,” begged Jim. “It’s still in the back storeroom.”
“Jim, I don’t know if I can bear to touch that guitar,” stated Jake calmly.
“The very fact you know what instrument I’m referring to tells me I’m right here,” challenged the producer calmly. “Let me fetch it. Just try it. Try it once. If it’s wrong, we put it straight back in the case.”
“Fine,” relented Jake reluctantly.
His heart was pounding and his palms were sweaty by the time Dr Marrs entered the live room carrying a battered guitar case. Barely daring to look, Jake listened as the producer undid the catches and lifted out Salazar Mendes’ vintage resonator. Without a word, Jim passed the 1930’s National to him.
“Get it in tune,” he said as he headed for the door. “I’ll give you a few minutes. I’ve a call to make.”
It might have been his imagination but Jake was sure he could smell Salazar’s opiate-based tea on the strings. Ghosts of that horrendous night over five years before flooded his conscience. That fateful night had almost destroyed everything he held dear to him. Taking a deep breath, he began to pull the resonator back into tune. In his head, he suspected that Dr Marrs was right and that this was the perfect guitar for Gone Today Tomorrow Forever; in his heart, he felt it was all wrong to be even touching the strings.
With the guitar back in tune, Jake began to pick out the blues melody of track three. His shoulders were tense and his playing stilted, almost staccato. A voice from the past echoed in his mind – Salazar’s voice. “Breathe the music. Feel it reverberate through your soul.”
Taking a deep breath, Jake started the song again. Closing his eyes, he played through the melody then played the solo, extending it by adding little improvised sections. As his confidence grew, he played the piece over and over, fine-tuning the solo and altering it subtly each time he played it. Gradually, the vintage instrument settled into his lap, his earlier fears and those long-ago ghosts slowly slipping into the shadows.
Oblivious to the fact Jim Marrs had slipped back into his seat behind the desk, Jake played on. Totally absorbed by the piece of music, he lost all track of time.
Finally satisfied with how track three was sounding, he turned his attention to Back In The Day. Although reflective, it was fast-paced, more upbeat with a delta blues undercurrent to it. Deciding to experiment further, Jake slipped his glass slide over his pinkie and began work on the song. Immediately the tone felt perfect for the song. Within moments, he was lost in the sonic landscape of the delta blues.
Almost as an afterthought, Jake ran through Got My Eye On You, enjoying the complexity of the piece of music that his late bandmate had written. In his mind’s eye, he could almost feel Rich watching over him as he focused on the mid-song solo; in his mind’s eye, he was waiting for Rich to step in and join him. Smiling to himself, Jake kept playing.
“Awesome work, Mr Power.”
Looking startled, Jake turned to stare at the control room window. From behind the glass, the band’s producer was grinning at him.
“Lunch, Jake,” he said calmly. “Let’s head over to the house.”
“Lunch?”
“Yes. It’s after one,” replied Jim. “If we eat fast, we can make a start on a fourth track before you need to head home.”
“I’ve not tracked the first three yet,” countered Jake, still somewhat confused.
“Yes, you have. I recorded the lot. You just played for over three hours straight. I’ve more than enough for those three and maybe a couple of extra segments too.”
“Sneaky,” laughed Jake as he gently placed Salazar’s National back in its velvet-lined coffin.
As they crossed the lawn between the studio and the house, Jim asked how he’d felt playing the late musician’s guitar.
“I guess it was cathartic,” confessed Jake, running his hand through his hair. “Shifted a few old ghosts.”
“About time that old girl was played again. She’s got a unique tone to her.”
“Have to agree,” conceded Jake as he climbed the steps up to the porch. “There’s a beautiful tone to that old lady.” He paused then said bluntly, “But his Strat stays back there. Don’t push this, Jim. I’m not touching that Strat.”
“I hear you,” said Jim warmly. “Now, I hope grilled cheese is good for lunch. Think it’s all I’ve got. Not managed to get to the food store this week yet.”
“Grilled cheese sounds good to me.”
Deliberately, Lori arrived at the school a few minutes early to collect Melody, hoping to catch Maddy as she picked up the meatballs. She’d left a couple of voicemails for her friend but had had no reply. Scanning the rows of cars, she couldn’t see Maddy’s distinctive scarlet and chrome SUV.
“Hey, Lori,” called a voice from behind her.
“Paul!” exclaimed Lori, startled by his silent approach. “Thought you’d have been out at JJL.”
Silver Lake’s drummer shook his head, “Change of plan. Jason’s summoned Maddy and Jethro to a meeting at the record label in Philly. They’re not due back till tomorrow night. Meatball duty calls.”
“Trouble?”
“Don’t think so,” he replied in his usual laidback manner. “I’m guessing the suits are pushing for us to name a new guitarist. They’ll be nervous about us recording a man down. We’ve kept quiet about how much music Rich left us to work with. Keeps the pressure off a bit.”
“I guess that explains why Jake headed out to JJL so early. He was gone before the sun was up,” said Lori, relieved to have a logical explanation to the change of plan. “Paul, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Did something happen at the studio yesterday? Jake was in a foul mood last night. Yelled at the kids. Really scared poor Jesse.”
“Not as far as I know,” replied Paul, not wanting to be the one to confess about the running repairs on Jake’s Mz Hyde custom guitar. “We’ve not really found our rhythm with recording this one. Jake probably headed out early to work on something that came to him overnight.”
“Perhaps,” mused Lori as the school bell rang behind them. “Any word from Grey?”
“He messaged earlier. All good. Kola and the baby should be home later today.”
“Any names for her yet?”
Paul shook his head, “Not that he said.”
Giggling, Lori said, “They must be just about out of girl’s names.”
“You might be right,” laughed Silver Lake’s drummer.
Spotting Melody running across the yard, Lori said, “I’ve promised this young lady and her brother some dolphin watching. Keep your fingers crossed that we see some.”
“You should be good for that. Walk down towards the inlet. Usually some down there around five. I’ve seen them when I’ve been out on the boat.”
“Not a bad idea. Thanks,” said Lori as Melody reached her. “Good day, angel?”
“The best,” declared Melody, dancing round. “Is Daddy hom
e?”
“He wasn’t when we left,” replied Lori evasively. “Come on though. Jesse is desperate to get to the beach. Say goodbye to Uncle Paul.”
“Bye, Uncle Paul,” called Melody as she ran towards Lori’s silver SUV. “We’re going dolphin hunting. Want to come?”
“Another time, Miss M,” called back Paul before adding, “See you later, Lori. Don’t worry about Jake. I’m sure he’s ok.”
“I hope so,” sighed Lori. “Get Maddy to call when she gets back.”
During the drive back to the beach house, Melody chattered on nineteen to the dozen about her day. The little girl barely paused for breath as she relayed the day’s events to her mother and brother. Eventually, she paused and asked Jesse how daycare had been.
“Good,” replied the little boy simply as Lori pulled into the driveway.
There was no sign of Jake’s truck. With a sigh, Lori switched off the engine then helped the kids out of their car seats. As the three of them walked round to the back door, she heard her phone buzz in her purse, indicating a message alert. Having unlocked the door and ushered the kids inside, Lori reached into the bag to retrieve her phone, hoping it was a message from Jake.
It wasn’t.
Her hands trembled as she read the text message. “I’ve sucked your husband’s dick.”
Tears stung in her eyes as she read the cell number that the message had been sent from. It wasn’t a number in her contacts. Swiftly, she blocked the number but decided not to delete the message.
“How has someone managed to get my cell number?” she wondered as she followed the kids down the hallway.
The house was empty when Jake arrived home late in the afternoon. He guessed that Lori and the kids must be down on the beach. Without pausing to change, he set off in search for them.
Despite the fact it was late September, the temperature was still in the high seventies. Feeling the sun’s warmth on his tanned skin, he crossed the soft sand, scanning the beach for any signs of his family. Once down on the wet sand, Jake spotted the tell-tale circular marks and spike holes from Lori’s canes. They were heading south down the beach away from town. Keeping his pace leisurely, he wandered along the water’s edge, dodging the lines from the occasional fisherman. Eventually, he spotted his family sitting on a beach towel watching the waves. Not surprisingly, Melody was the first to spot him approaching. The little girl scrambled to her feet and came running up the beach towards him, soft sand flying behind her.
Shattered Hearts Page 24
