"You know, if it's still raining when the show starts, you could bring your equipment inside and set up in here during the show," I offered to Tony. I gestured to an empty table along the back wall. I wasn't above using the rain as an excuse to bring my new eye candy inside so I could flirt with him for the rest of the night.
"Cool!" Tony flashed me a toothy grin. "Maybe I can buy you a drink later, as a thank you."
"I wouldn't object to a drink." I beamed at him.
Tim ventured over to the stage, waiting for a chance to corner Bobby. Tony, Shawn, and I joined Bron and Reese at the bar. We watched the band rehearse a few songs and spot-check a few others. Not one to mingle with the commoners, Princess Cocaine Candy of Snortsalot chose not to join us at the bar. She perched herself on the edge of stage-left, openly ogling Jared as he jammed on his rental bass.
I caught myself staring a little too hard at his bulging biceps and fast fingers. I spun around on my stool and began checking the bar's liquor inventory before Tony could notice me drooling over Jared. While Evan Williams, Jack Daniels, and Jim Beam were no comparison to the tall drink of yum that was Bobby's bass guitarist, I reminded myself of three things: OneJared was with Candy. TwoIf his standards were so low that he'd date that piece of groupie trash, I was better off leaving him alone. ThreeIt felt like there was something happening between Tony and me, and I wanted to see where it went.
The side door opened, and Kat stepped through from the hallway. Her wet hair was plastered to the sides of her head, and her shoulders sagged under the weight of her grief. Still, she looked considerably better than she had the day before. She gave me a weak smile as I hopped off my bar stool and headed toward her. "You hanging in there, chick?" I asked, giving her a hug.
"Uh huh. One day at a time, right?" She hugged me back and reached around me to brush her damp hair out of her eyes.
"It'll get easier," I agreed. "Still, if there's anything I can do to help with the service arrangements—or once you're feeling up to a night out—just say the word. Anything you need, I'm your gal."
"I know." Kat heaved a tired sigh. "Thanks, Ame. I'm just not feeling like myself again yet. I'm going to take it easy in my office tonight and get some work done. I'll be fine as long as I don't run into Lau—" Kat's voice cut off. Her eyes grew wide as she shifted her attention to something behind me. I turned to see Laura Holly entering the Dungeon from the main entrance and timidly approaching Reese at the bar. Uh-oh.
"—Laura," Kat finished. Tears welled in her blue eyes.
"It's okay, girl. Why don't you go on back to your office?" I slid one arm across her shoulders and gently guided her back into the hallway. "I've got everything in here under control."
Kat sniffed and offered me a tearful thank you before hastily walking toward her office. I stalked back to the bar to find Reese and Laura already in each other's faces.
"How could you?" Reese thundered as he towered over Laura, his hands clenched in fists by his sides. His eyes flashed with fury. "You're nothing but a lying, cheating bitch!" he fumed.
Laura shrank away from him, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, baby! I'm so sorry! We just kissed! It meant nothing, I promise. Now he's dead, and I feel so awful!"
Shawn, Tony, and Bronwyn had inched away from the two of them, no one eager to cut in and break up the lovers' quarrel. Bobby and the band even stopped their sound check mid-song to gape at them. Candy's eyes lit up, and she rubbed her hands together with excitement. I wasn't surprised—I'd pegged her for a drama queen from the get-go. I noticed that Tim Scott was also eyeing them both with interest. Great—more dramatic fodder for his stupid show. I had to stop them.
I wedged my way between the pair and put a hand on Reese's shoulder. "Now's not the time, honey," I said in his ear. "Save it for after your shift." I gave him a gentle nudge backward, and he stormed off to the corner of the bar. "Holly, you're late," I said, turning to Laura. I narrowed my eyes at her. "I ought to fire you after what you did to Reese and Kat." In fact, I would have canned her on the spot if we weren't already short-handed behind the bar. I made a note to post a job opening online the next day.
Laura's eyes bulged. "Ame, please," she begged. "I need this job. And you don't know the whole story. Everyone has it all wrong!" Her tone was shrill and panicked, as if she were on the verge of hysterics.
A pang of guilt stabbed at me as I took in her appearance. Laura looked pitiful, almost as rough as Kat. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was pulled back in an unkempt ponytail. This was the first time I had ever seen her show up to work sans makeup and without every hair perfectly in place.
"Look," I said, lowering my voice. "I'm sorry you're having a rough time. You can stay for now, but just save the soap opera bullshit for after work, okay? We're all hurting, and you being here is making things worse for Reese and Kat." I blew out a breath. "Go ahead and start prepping behind the bar, and keep your head down. Don't even go near Reese. If you have something to say to him, it can wait until you're off the clock. And you owe Kat a major apology, too." I glared at Laura. "How could you do this to them?" She had fooled around with my best friend's husband, and it was my duty to hate her for it.
"It's not what you think," Laura whispered. Her lips quivered, and she let out a small sob as she turned away from me and hurried behind the counter. I noticed Tim Scott making his way toward the bar, his gaze locked on Laura. There was a glimmer of hungry curiosity in his eyes.
Reese.
"Leave her be, Scott," I warned, stepping between him and the sniffling bartender.
Tim flashed me an innocent who-me? look. "What? I just wanted to order a drink from this lovely lady here." He sidestepped around me and took a seat at the bar. "Excuse me, Miss, but could I trouble you for a pint of Sam Adams?" he coaxed.
Laura brushed a tear from her cheek and squared her shoulders. It was time to make some tips. Mustering up a fraction of her normal charm and fake accent, she aimed a half-smile in his direction. "Coming right up, darlin'," she said.
I watched their interaction through narrowed eyes. The last thing Kat needed was Tim snooping around, digging up more drama for his broadcast and thrusting her ill-fated marriage into the spotlight. I sighed with relief when he slid a ten spot across the counter to Laura and made his way over to Shawn. "So, about that interview…" Tim began. He sipped his beer and gave Shawn an expectant look.
Stone took a long pull from his rum and Coke. He glanced at his watch, frowning. "It'll have to wait until after the show," he said gruffly. "Doors are opening soon, and Bobby and the guys have gotta get back to the green room. I don't think there will be enough time before they take the stage. You can come back to the green room after the show, or I can schedule a block of time for you to come by the hotel later this week."
Tim scowled. "Fine." He sighed. "Bobby wins again." He vacated the stool next to Shawn and stalked over to Tony and me. "Alright, Tony, let's nix the broadcast for now. We'll set up if I get to speak to Bobby after the show," he added with a hard look in Shawn's direction. "Just bring me a recorder so we can grab some sound clips, and you can just hang around and enjoy the show."
"You're the boss." Tony hopped off his barstool. He brushed my arm and our eyes met. "Be right back, doll face," he whispered. I enjoyed the view of his backside as he dipped out of the room.
Reese and Bronwyn left to take their posts out front. Reese glared hard at Laura as he passed. Bron shot her a look of disgust and then trotted after him. Laura's face crumpled, and she ducked behind the bar to dab at her eyes with a cocktail napkin.
I almost felt sorry for her as she crouched there, sniffling. If Parker and Kat had kept their marriage a secret from everyone, Laura couldn't have known about it either. Still, there was no excuse for her cheating on Reese. She'd managed to wrong two of my close friends with just one kiss. Reese
Laura rose from behind the bar and met my gaze with remorseful blue eyes. She grabbed a knife and came to stand near me as s
he sliced lime garnishes. As if reading my mind, she said, "I didn't know about Kat and Parker. I swear, Ame—I just found out this morning." Laura gulped. "I know she'll never forgive me–and Reese won't either, but I honestly don't know how it happened."
"So, what—did you trip and land on Parker's lips?" The remark came out before I could stop it. "Sorry," I said when Laura gave me a wounded look. "I just can't believe you'd wrong Reese like that."
"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Laura said in a low voice. She glanced around to make sure no one could hear us. "Parker found me in the hall when I was going to fetch drinks for Bobby and the band. He said needed to see me, that he needed my help with something. Then he grabbed my hand and led me to his office."
I arched a brow. "He just grabbed you and pulled you into his office with no warning or explanation?" I asked, disbelieving.
Laura ignored my skeptical tone. "Yeah." She nodded. "I figured he just wanted to give me some extra supplies to unload at the bar or something. But before he'd even shut the door, he pressed me against the wall and started kissing me." Her voice shook. "I tried to fight him off, but he put a hand over my mouth and told me not to freak out. He said someone was watching us, and he needed me to play along." Laura bit her lip. "He said it was a matter of life and death."
I frowned. A matter of life and death? Parker had used a lot of cheesy pick-up lines in his time, but this one took the cake. Except…Parker had died. Had he known something was going to happen? Had someone really been watching him?
"I would never cheat on Reese," Laura continued, sniffling. "But I know he never believe me if I told him the truth." She looked at me, her expression miserable. "You probably don't believe me either."
I stared at her for several long moments. If someone was really watching Parker that day, then he or she had stuck around to finish him off during Bobby's set. You could only get to the tower from backstage and through the employee hallway—there weren't too many people who had access to it that night…And everyone that did would be here again tonight. The killer will be here tonight.
"I think I might actually believe you," I said quietly.
"Y-you do?" Laura stammered, sounding surprised.
I nodded. I glanced up to see Tony approaching us from the front hallway and leaned closer to Laura. "Do me a favor. Don't mention this to anyone else—not even Reese. Not just yet. Got it?"
"Okay." Laura eyed me warily. "So does that mean you'll help me set things right with Reese and Kat?"
"I will," I promised.
I ordered drinks for Tony and me as he rejoined me at the bar. He shook himself slightly to dispel some of the rain droplets that were rolling down his arms. "It's really coming down out there."
"Mmhmm." I nodded. We were alone at the bar. Bobby and the band had wrapped up their sound check and moved backstage with Shawn to scarf down their catered dinner. Tim had wandered out front to grab his credentials from Bronwyn at the box office. I fidgeted nervously with my watchband as I wracked my brain for a new topic of conversation. I was the queen of awkward silence.
"I had fun last night." Tony scooted his barstool closer to mine. "Although I still want a rematch of our pool game." His eyes twinkled, and he gave me a flirty nudge. He was persistent—and I liked it.
I gave him a wry smile. "Just name a time and place. I'll show up and beat you all over again." Laura brought us our drinks, and I leaned back against the bar, sipping on my Jack and Diet. Tony played around with his cell phone for a few minutes and then casually slid his arm around me.
We sat in more comfortable silence after that, with me grinning like an idiot as Tony lightly rubbed my shoulders. My giddiness faded when Shawn emerged from the backstage area, speaking into his phone in a low voice. "I don't trust that guy," I mumbled.
"Why not?" Tony gave me a sideways glance.
I shrugged. "I don't know. Something about him just seems…off. Then there's the fact that on the night Parker fell, I saw him arguing with Shawn in the hallway. Stone was griping about a deal—part of Bobby's contract, maybe. But it almost sounded like he was threatening him. "I thought about what Laura told me before, about someone watching Parker. Stone had been insistent on visiting Parker's office and had even barged in later that afternoon. What in Parker's office could be worth killing for? There was only one way to find out. "I need to get into Parker's office," I said out loud.
"Then let's go check it out," Tony offered.
I shook my head. "We can't. Sergeant Sinclair sealed off Parker's office as part of the investigation. It's off limits to all of the staff—including Kat and me. Plus," I added sheepishly, "it's locked." I had tried opening his office when I arrived earlier this afternoon, thinking maybe I could sneak in and grab a few folders out of his cabinet. The door had been blocked off with yellow caution tape and was locked. The APD had possession of both Parker's key and his only back-up copy.
Tony was quiet for a few moments while he mulled this over. "Alright," he said finally. "How about this? Once the show gets underway, why don't we sneak over to Parker's office and see if we can pick the lock?"
I blinked at him. "You want to sneak into a sealed-off crime scene when there are a ton of people around? Are you crazy?"
"Maybe." He flashed me another boyish grin. "Think about it—with the crowd focused on Bobby and the band onstage, who's gonna notice that we're gone? We'll sneak down the hall. If the coast is clear, we can jimmy the lock and take a quick look around. We'll be back in the crowd for the encore, and nobody will ever know we were gone."
I considered his plan. My gut said it was a bad idea, but he had a point. With the house lights dimmed and the room crowded with people, nobody would know for sure that we weren't down in the Dungeon enjoying the show. Since Parker's door was locked, there wasn't a cop guarding it. We could easily sneak in and take a look around—just a quick peek through his files. Then we could run back into the crowd before anyone noticed we were gone. Easy peasy.
"Fine," I caved. "We'll just take a quick look around—no more than five minutes. If we can't find anything, we're out of there. Got it?"
"Got it, doll face." Tony put his arm back around me. "And now, we wait."
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, Bobby was rocking the socks off of the crowd with one of his number one hits, "Loopy Lucy." Tony and I were dancing and carrying on like we'd known each other for years. "I heard he wrote this about Lucille Ball," I yelled over the loud music.
"Well, I heard he wrote it about an ex-girlfriend of his who did acid," Tony shouted back.
"Could be the same person." I grinned.
Not missing a beat, he replied, "She was always kinda loopy."
I giggled and glanced at my watch. Nine forty-five. Bobby was almost halfway through his set now. We had decided to wait until the show had been underway for a while before trying to make our exit. I nudged Tony and pointed to my watch. "Ready?"
"Ready."
Tony and I pushed our way through the crowd toward the side entrance into the employee hallway. We crept down the hall. I peeked through Kat's open door as we quietly edged past. I frowned. Her desk chair was empty. "Kat's not in her office," I whispered. "We're going to need to be quick about this, or she might see us when she comes back." I knew Kat wouldn't turn us in, but I didn't want to involve her in our little caper unless it was absolutely necessary. She had enough to worry about.
My nostrils flared as a sickly sweet odor reached my nose. It seemed to be wafting out of her open doorway. She really needs to dial it back on the air fresheners in there, I thought, crinkling my nose.
Tony pulled his pocketknife from his jeans and raised it. A sudden panic swelled in my chest. "We can't do this," I hissed, backing away from the door.
Tony frowned. "Why not?"
"I've just got a bad feeling about this. What if we get cau—"
My words were drowned out as a scream pierced the air. "What the hell?" Tony dropped his pocketknife. His eyes darted u
p and down the hallway in alarm as he stooped to retrieve it.
The shrieking continued. It sounded like it was coming from out back. "This way!" I sprinted down the hallway toward the back door, nearly slipping on a wet patch on the floor. Tony hooked an arm around me to keep me upright until I regained my footing. Together we burst through the back exit of Castle Rock, nearly slamming into Kat.
She was on her knees in the rain, huddled next to the venue's dumpster. Alarmed, I rushed to her side and tried to check her for any signs of injury. The cold rain pelted down on us as Kat continued to scream. She shook my arm away and pointed a trembling finger toward the dumpster. I stooped down beside her in the dark, trying to make out the shapes on the ground in front of us. Several garbage bags lay just in front of the bin, sagging as they became waterlogged from the downpour. I shoved them aside and gasped in horror as I stared down at Laura Holly's crumpled body.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The patrolman guarding High Court must have heard the commotion. He pushed through the back door less than a minute after Tony and me. Kat and I were huddled in the rain screaming, and Tony was standing behind us, wearing a shocked expression. He realized he was still holding his knife, and I saw him shove it hastily back into his pocket before the officer registered that he had a weapon. "What's going on out here?" the cop demanded. The color drained from his face when he spotted the body half-buried in the soggy garbage bags. "Good God Almighty…" He sank to his knees and shoved us out of the way as he pressed two fingers to Laura's neck, checking for a pulse. "Shit!" He pulled the bags off her and studied her for a moment. He pressed a button on his radio. "Dispatch," he barked. "This is Simpson requesting an ambulance at the Castle Rock music venue at 78 North Avenue. We've got a gunshot victim here—white female in her mid-twenties with a bullet wound to the chest. She's got a faint pulse, and it's getting weaker, so step on it."
"Roger that, Simpson. An ambulance and back-up are on their way," a response crackled over the receiver.
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