In Plain Sight

by Sherryl Hancock

  Kieran shook her head as Memphis pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the strip. As they drove out of the city, Kieran noticed that Memphis kept glancing wistfully at the mountain range. “What is it?” she said.

  Memphis glanced at her and smiled softly. “I was born in an area like this. Well, that over there.” She gestured toward the mountains as they passed Nellis Air Force Base.

  “Where were you born?”

  Memphis grinned. “Tiny little nowheresville in Texas called Rocky Bend.”

  “Nowheresville, huh?”

  “Population like, ten.”

  A few minutes later, when they pulled into the Las Vegas Motor Speedway, Memphis was fairly sure she’d died and gone to the ever-fabled heaven.

  Brenden James Sparks never did anything halfway. He’d reserved the entire track and had it closed for his people and friends. Everyone got to drive any car they had for as many laps as they wanted.

  Cody and Dakota predictably chose the Ferrari 488 GTBs, being Ferrari owners themselves. Lyric and Savanna opted for a 700-horsepower Lamborghini Aventador.

  “What?” Cody said, staring openmouthed at her mothers when they drove up to the line.

  “Hey, I drive a Ferrari every day,” Lyric said, grinning. “This is a chance to try something else.”

  “Traitor,” Dakota said, grinning.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Lyric said. “You won’t be sayin’ that when I hand you your ass, little girl.”

  “Come at me, Mom!” Dakota laughed as she got into her car.

  The Falcos were the first on the track, with everyone cheering them on. In the end, Lyric, who had much more experience driving extremely fast, won on sheer nerve alone.

  Next up was Remington, driving a Mercedes-AMG GT S, and Joe Sinclair driving an Aston Martin Vantage GT. Rick got into the action, choosing a McLaren 570S. Midnight, Randy, Wynter, and the rest stood watching as the three raced. In the end, Remington pulled it out by a nose.

  Midnight looked at Randy. “Our guys are gettin’ old,” she said, grinning.

  Randy laughed. “God, don’t get Joe started again!”

  BJ went up against Jericho and Rayden. All three picked Lamborghinis of different models. The race was neck and neck for four laps, but then BJ pulled ahead, winning by a quarter mile.

  “He cheated,” Jericho said, grinning at Zoey.

  “Yeah, he did,” Rayden said, chuckling.

  BJ laughed. “Sore losers.”

  Jet and Skyler dueled it out, Skyler driving, predictably, the Nissan GT-R; Jet chose an Audi R8. They tied the first time through, and then Jet pulled ahead the second time.

  “Dude!” Jet said as she got out of the car, grinning at Skyler. “Have you lost your nerve?”

  “Fuck you, Jet. I don’t have ADHD driving my ass!” Skyler laughed, as did everyone else.

  “Okay, let’s get down to this now,” Quinn said, looking over at Harley.

  Harley nodded, smiling. “Gotta be fair though—even.”

  “I’m thinking the Lambo.”

  Harley nodded. “Okay, which?”

  Quinn grinned. “You pick.”

  “The Aventador.”

  “Make it three,” Memphis said, grinning.

  “Oh-ho…” Quinn laughed. “You got it.”

  Memphis looked over at Kieran. “You riding with me?”

  “Try to bloody stop me,” Kieran said, smiling widely.

  The race was on, and Quinn and Harley found that little Memphis didn’t play when it came to driving. She was quick off the mark, and everyone could hear the music blasting out of the speakers—Linkin Park’s “A Light That Never Comes,” a dance remix. The opening verse said a lot about Memphis, and she sang it proudly. The verse told anyone who would listen that nothing could stop or control her.

  As the chorus belted out, Memphis downshifted and leapt ahead.

  “Son of a bitch…” Remington said, watching.

  “Wouldn’t have guessed that one,” said BJ, standing next to Remington.

  “Where’s this kid from?” Midnight asked.

  “Got me,” BJ said, shaking his head. “Best damn sound engineer I’ve ever seen—even better than me.”

  “And nobody is better than Dad,” Tabitha said, leaning against Devlin, who was watching the race with interest.

  BJ signaled for another five laps. Quinn dropped a gear and pulled ahead, barely clearing Memphis’ car before Harley pulled around on the outside, passing them both.

  “That’s my girl,” Shiloh said, smiling.

  “She’s going down,” Xandy said, doing her best to sound tough.

  Midnight chuckled. “You are so cute,” she told Xandy.

  “What is that song she’s got on?” Joe asked as Memphis blew by, the windows vibrating with the beat.

  “Sounds like Linkin Park, but I got no idea what song,” Rick said, shaking his head.

  “If she survives the race, we’ll have to ask,” Joe said.

  Remington elbowed him. “Could ya not?”

  Joe grimaced. “Sorry, not the way I meant it.”

  Remington nodded, her expression serious. Joe exchanged a look with Rick—the woman was damned protective of the kid, wasn’t she? Midnight caught the exchange and grinned. She knew it was hard on her boys, dealing with lesbians that were likely tougher than them. She had to give them both credit—neither of them ever made the mistake of stereotyping or talking down to the women. They’d quickly adjusted to the company they were in and were handling it better than most men would. BJ was better at it, but he was probably around more gays than Joe and Rick had ever been. Midnight found it endlessly amusing to watch her very masculine men handle the ever-changing landscape.

  In the end, Memphis shocked everyone by winning by a good five feet. She was congratulated all around. Joe and Rick asked for her playlist. Memphis grinned up at Joe.

  “It’s about a hundred and twenty-seven gigs,” she said mildly.

  “Holy shit,” Joe said, laughing. He looked at Rick. “I thought we were bad.”

  Memphis shrugged. “I’m a DJ, I gotta have music.”

  “What was that song you had on?” Rick asked.

  “Linkin Park & Steve Aoki, ‘A Light That Never Comes.’”

  “Steve Aoki?” Joe queried.

  “Yeah, it’s a techno remix of the original.”

  “Ah,” Joe said, nodding. “No wonder we didn’t get that—we’re too old school.”

  “Always time for more school,” Memphis said, winking up at the handsome Englishman. She liked him, despite her usual intolerance for men.

  “Too right,” Joe said, grinning.

  “Tell ya what,” Rick said. “If you get some time, maybe you could make us a playlist of some of your stuff. I really liked that mix you did for Remi’s fight. I’d love to get a hold of more.”

  Memphis pressed her lips together, smiling. She looked pleased. “I can definitely do that,” she said. She liked Rick too. Neither of the Englishmen talked down to her; they talked to her like she was their equal, which she knew she was far from.

  “What bands do you guys like?” Memphis asked, pulling up her notes app on her phone.

  Joe glanced at Rick, grinning. “Well, like I said, we’re old school, so all the old guys like us—Def Leppard, Mötley Crüe, Kiss, Stones, Zepplin, that kind of stuff. And some of the newer stuff, like Linkin Park, Stone Temple Pilots, Limp Bizkit, Papa Roach…”

  Memphis put it all down, nodding. “Yeah, I like a lot of these guys too. I can definitely do something with this.”

  “Hey, are you co-opting my DJ here?” BJ asked Joe and Rick.

  “We’re trying to get more up to date,” Rick said, grinning.

  “And your DJ is trying to help,” Joe said.

  “Don’t let ’em take ya for nothin’, Memphis. Joe’s loaded, and Rick’s not far behind.”

  Memphis glanced up at the two men, looking amused, then over at BJ. “I don’t do this for money, Beege,” she said
.

  “Ya should!” BJ said, laughing.

  It ended up being a fairly great day.

  That night, the members of the group that had stayed in town hit a few clubs together. They stuck to the gay clubs, not willing to even attempt any of the local straight clubs. The group consisted of Remington, Wynter, Quinn, Xandy, Cody, McKenna, Dakota, Jazmine, Memphis, and Kieran. At the first club the DJ was spinning a lot of plain techno, and it was quickly obvious that Memphis didn’t like the woman’s style at all. She continually put her middle finger to her forehead, scratching at it in agitation.

  “This is what you meant by boring techno, right?” Kieran said as she watched Memphis take another shot of tequila.

  Memphis nodded, her eyes reflecting her anxiety.

  “Okay, I think we need to go somewhere else, before Memphis storms the booth,” Remington said, grinning.

  The group all laughed, nodding.

  At the next club, they took over a booth and pulled a table over to give them more room. At one point, Memphis stood up, saying she was going to go smoke. She didn’t catch the look exchanged between Cody and Remington, but Cody stood too, saying she’d join her.

  Outside, they found a spot that was somewhat dry; it was raining that night. Cody noted that Memphis immediately pulled her phone out and turned on her music, setting the phone up against a metal hinge on the side of the building so the sound would project.

  “Gotta have music, huh?” Cody said, grinning.

  “Yeah.” Memphis nodded, with a grin of her own. “All the time.”

  “I get that. This is Linkin Park, right?”

  “Yeah. You like them too?”

  “Oh yeah. Lyric introduced me to them when I was fourteen. I’ve loved ’em ever since.”

  Memphis nodded.

  The song “When They Come For Me” was playing. Memphis sang the words, keeping her voice low. Fortunately, Linkin Park’s rap style wasn’t something she needed to use a real singing voice for. Cody noted she sang one particular verse with vehemence; she thought it was telling. The verse talked about the “underbelly” being much worse than it seemed.

  Cody understood using lyrics to express things she couldn’t put into words herself; she did it all the time. It was what she loved about music.

  “Their lyrics get right to it, don’t they?” she said, grinning.

  Memphis nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, they do.”

  “That’s one of my big things with them. They really put things in a way that makes sense of chaos sometimes, ya know?” Cody said.

  Memphis nodded, her expression flickering slightly. Cody caught it, but also saw how quickly Memphis clamped down on her thoughts. She recognized some deep-seated issues there, but had no idea where they came from.

  They were both silent for a couple of minutes, smoking and looking at the rain. Cody noted that Memphis put her hood up. She was wearing a sapphire blue Tapout hoodie, another influence of Remington, with a black tank top, faded blue jeans, and her black combat boots. Cody wondered at her putting the hood up; she thought it might be a defensive gesture, so she backed off.

  “So what made you want to get into law enforcement?” Memphis asked, thinking that Cody really didn’t seem like a cop to her.

  “Well, a lot of it had to do with Lyric,” Cody said. “Plus what we do is kind of near and dear to me.”

  Memphis looked back at her. “I know you’re DOJ, but I can’t say I know what you do specifically, sorry,” she said, grimacing.

  Cody chuckled. “No worries. I work with TRACE. We’re a task force that works against human trafficking.”

  Memphis looked surprised, then nodded slowly, her expression inscrutable. “And that’s near and dear to you how?” she said after a long minute.

  “Since I was a victim of human trafficking as a kid,” Cody said, her tone forthright.

  Memphis stared back at her for a long moment, her stare reflecting complete shock. Finally she shook her head. “Jesus…”

  Cody shrugged, nodding. “Yeah, not something you advertise usually.”

  “How’d you get out?”

  “Lyric,” Cody said simply.

  “She’s a cop too, right?”

  “She works for TRACE too, and she did then as well.”

  “She worked for them and let you get mixed up with that?” Memphis’ expression was disdainful.

  Cody laughed, shaking her head. “No, you don’t understand. Lyric and Savanna adopted me after Lyric saved my life.”

  Memphis looked like she was trying to formulate questions, but finally just shook her head. “You’re right, I don’t get it,” she said, laughing.

  “I was working the streets when I was thirteen,” Cody said, her look pointed. “I got arrested for prostitution, and when I got out I landed in Savanna’s group home.” She smiled. “Luckiest break of my life. Unfortunately, the M-13s had already gotten their hooks into me while I was in jail. So… they were running me. One of the times I’d been gone for three days, Savanna went down to the police station to report me missing. She met Lyric, and Lyric helped her find me. Lyric and I just kinda clicked, and she started looking out for me.” She smiled fondly. “She bought me my first iPod and introduced me to the likes of Queensrÿche and Linkin Park. In the end, she ended up killing one of the heads of the M-13s to get me away from them.” She shrugged. “So when I got old enough, I joined the fight.”

  Memphis looked astounded. “Wow,” she said, her voice reflecting her surprise. “That’s… that’s crazy.”

  Cody nodded. “Yeah, it kind of is, but… I got a helluva life out of it. Lyric and Savanna are the one safe haven I’ve always had since then.”

  Memphis nodded. A look of longing flitted across her face before she apparently clamped down on that emotion as well.

  “So where’d you grow up?” Cody asked, hoping to keep the conversation moving.

  Memphis’ eyes dropped to the ground, narrowing slightly. “Here and there,” she said casually.

  Cody nodded, noting the body language. “In other words, you don’t want to talk about it.”

  Memphis grimaced slightly, glancing up at Cody. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just not big on talking about that stuff, ya know?”

  Cody nodded. “I get it.” She gave Memphis a pointed look. “But you should know that if you ever do want to talk about it, I’m more than happy to listen, okay?”

  Memphis banged her booted heel on the wall behind her in internal agitation, even as she nodded without looking at Cody.

  “So how’d you get into DJing and all this?” Cody said, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

  Memphis laughed. “I got my first iPod when I was sixteen. It was basically all over for me after that. I love music, love it… I eat, drink, and sleep it twenty-four seven. So doing this was just natural to me.”

  Cody nodded. “I get that. You’re damned good at it, that’s for sure.”

  Memphis smiled, bowing her head slightly. “Thanks.”

  “I even heard BJ say that you’re better than him, and I understand that’s a pretty big deal.”

  “He thinks I’m better than him?” Memphis said, her eyes reflecting awe at the very thought.

  Cody smiled. “So I guess that is a pretty big deal. Yeah, that’s what he told Midnight at the track today.”

  “Wow,” Memphis said, shaking her head. “Yeah, that’s a pretty big compliment coming from BJ Sparks. He’s won Grammys for his sound work and even an Academy Award for his work on Allex’s picture.”

  Cody nodded, grinning, pleased now that she’d told the girl what she’d overheard. She could see how happy it made her.

  Remington walked outside then, pulling out a cigarette of her own and joining them under the awning.

  “You two looking to catch pneumonia or cancer out here?” she said, grinning.

  “Nah, just got to chatting,” Cody said as she lit another cigarette.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna head in.” Memphis st
ubbed out her finished cigarette.

  Remington nodded, watching Memphis walk back inside. She looked back at Cody. “So what were you talking about?”

  Cody grinned. “Unfortunately, not enough about her,” she said, making a face. “But she knows my story now, so if there’s anything in it that rings familiar for her, hopefully she’ll decide she can tell me. There’s definitely something going on under the surface there.”

  Remington nodded. “Yeah, Kieran said she woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and she seemed terrified.”

  Cody grimaced. “Yeah, something is definitely bubbling up there.”

  “Well, BJ has Kieran sticking with the tour now,” Remington said. “And I’m betting it has everything to do with keeping tabs on Memphis, despite what we’re being told.”

  Cody grinned. “BJ is one class act, huh?”

  Remington nodded. “He is that. Trè élégance,” she said in Creole.

  “What’s that mean?”

  Remington grinned. “Very classy.”

  “So you and Quinn are keeping an eye on her too, right?”

  “Yeah. We’re not going to let another Texas happen on our watch.”

  “Good,” Cody said. “I’m thinking that’s what started all of this up, but nothing’s gonna get better until she deals with whatever it is.”

  Remington shook her head. “I just get the feeling she’s a timebomb.”

  “You might be right about that. So watch her. If things escalate, call me or my mom Savanna, or even Kenna.”

  Remington nodded. She respected Cody Falco. She knew that the girl had been through the ringer in her teen years—she’d been told by Cody herself one night at The Club. Cody had asked her about Texas privately and had wanted to know how Memphis was handling things. Cody had a doctorate in psychology and the mind of a cop, so Remington was happy to have her help in trying to get Memphis through whatever was happening with her.

  Chapter 7

  The tour began in earnest the next day. Their first location was Ogden, Utah. It was a six-hour bus ride that started at 8:00 a.m. Tabitha and Kieran worked on ensuring everyone got to the buses and was ready to leave.