Sidearms and Songbirds (Hearts of Nashville Book 3)

by Amelia C. Adams

  Julia shook her head. “Your window of opportunity might be closed by then. Your single is selling like crazy right now—we’ve got to strike while the iron is hot.”

  “I know. I’m just . . . Other singers have figured this out, right? I’m not the only mom who’s gone through this?”

  “Of course not. This is what moms do, right? Finding a balance between mothering and their careers? But then again, having a career is part of mothering when your income is feeding your children.” Julia looked at her compassionately. “You’ll make this work, and I admire your commitment to taking Sophie with you.”

  “I really think it’s best for both of us. I could leave her with my mom in Denver, but . . .” Carly pulled in a deep breath. “There’s something else.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t tell you how I learned Sam Bolton was the chief of police.” She gave Julia a quick outline of what had happened with Mick. “And of course I realize how silly that sounds—I move to get away from him, and I change my name, and then I get a record contract and release a single and my face is being plastered everywhere. That’s not the best way to go into hiding.”

  “Holy cow,” Julia said, her mouth open slightly. “Do you think you’re in danger?”

  “I’m not sure what I am. His note sounded possessive and creepy, but maybe I’m just taking it that way because of our past. I have no way of knowing if he’s changed, but I doubt it. Um, yeah. I think I’m in danger.”

  “Well, from what I know of the sheriff, he’s a very diligent man. He actually pulled me over once.”

  “So you’ve met him.”

  “If you want to call getting stopped for a traffic violation meeting someone, yes, we met. And I liked him. If I have to get pulled over again, I hope it’s him.”

  Carly laughed. “He seems like he’s got his act together. I just hope I didn’t offend him too badly.”

  “He’ll still do a good job on your case even if he is offended. That’s how the best of them operate.” Julia motioned toward the window. “See what I mean?”

  Carly stood up and pulled back a corner of the sheer curtain. Sheriff Bolton was across the street, talking to the neighbor and motioning toward her house. “Wow. He got right on it—I was only in his office an hour ago.”

  “See? Offended or not, he’s on it, and that’s the important part.” Julia took a few more sips of her coffee. “So, do you think we’re on for the tour? The timing might be a little weird with your ex showing up, but if you think about it, going on tour might be the best way to keep you and Sophie safe. You’d be surrounded by people every minute of every day—roadies, the band, actual bodyguards. You’d never be alone.” She paused. “Which sounds kind of claustrophobic, actually. Glad it’s you and not me.”

  Carly chuckled. “Thanks for your help with this, Julia. I feel like Bambi trying to skate on ice right now.”

  “Part of my job, but it’s a part I enjoy. Now, don’t forget to talk to Chief Bolton about your plans to go on tour. Just because I think it’s a good idea doesn’t mean he will.”

  “I was kind of hoping that I’d never have to face him again.”

  Julia laughed. “Not really possible, considering that he’s sort of investigating a situation for you.”

  “That does complicate things. And … I’ll probably run into him while we’re picking up our girls from school. Maybe I could get plastic surgery, make myself completely unrecognizable, and flee the country.”

  “You’d do all that because you’re embarrassed?”

  “This wasn’t just embarrassment—it was embarrassment like I’ve never been embarrassed before.”

  “I’m starting to see that.” Julia looked at her with an amused smile. “Here’s the thing. You live here now. You’re going to run into him—there’s no avoiding it. Just smile brightly, pretend like nothing happened, and it will eventually blow over. If you keep trying to avoid him, it’s going to snowball. Stuff like this always does.”

  “You’re right. So, I should just be a big girl and get over it, yes?”

  “Yes. And talk to him about the tour.”

  “All right. I can do that.” Carly took another look outside. It looked like the chief was now speaking with the neighbors two houses down. She wouldn’t interrupt him—she’d wait until later. Maybe she’d try to catch him in his office again . . . because it had gone so well the first time. “I’ve also been thinking about getting a home security system.”

  “Another great idea. And I think you should talk to the chief about that, too—see what systems are the safest.”

  Carly picked up a throw pillow and buried her face in it. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay. Deep breaths. I can do this. Bright smile, you say?”

  “Bright smile.” Julia grinned. “Hang in there. You’ve got this. And let me know after you talk to the school, all right? I’ll need time to arrange all the venues, so the faster we have a solid commitment from you, the better.”

  “I’ll get back with you as soon as I can.”

  Carly let Julia out, then double-locked the door behind her. So much to think about … so much to do.

  BB wanted her to do twenty venues spanning two months. Some of those venues would have multiple concerts. Julia had given her the schedule of a tour they’d done for another artist so she’d have an idea what to expect, and it looked like a whole lot of driving mixed in with a whole lot of singing. She’d be with a few other artists—this wouldn’t be a solo tour—and that took some of the fear out of it, but not all. So much to think about.

  She still thought she was crazy for considering it. But maybe it was a good kind of crazy—she wouldn’t know until she’d tried it.

  ***

  None of Ms. Wayne’s neighbors had seen anything odd, which wasn’t terribly surprising considering that they all worked. Sam had hoped for more, though, and he was a little disheartened when he got back to the station. At least he’d verified that it was Mick who bought the chocolates—not that he’d really doubted it.

  He sat down at his desk and pulled up his emails, scrolling through to see what had come in while he was gone. He deleted the spam rather quickly, then took his time with the official messages.

  Huh.

  Lucas Dodge was being released that afternoon.

  Sam rubbed his eyes, suddenly fatigued. Lucas was one of the first arrests Sam had ever made way back at the start of his career. He’d been on a domestic violence call with his partner, Buddy Ray, and they’d found themselves in a stand-off situation with a wife in critical condition and Lucas threatening to shoot both officers and then himself. Sam had managed to hit him in the arm just as Lucas pulled the trigger on Buddy. Lucas had recovered and gone on to serve his time, and Buddy . . . well, he’d survived, but his injuries were such that he’d never be able to work again.

  Men like Buddy didn’t deserve that.

  Buddy had moved to California to live with his daughter and her family, and Sam still stayed in touch with him. He picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number.

  “Hey, Buddy,” he said when his friend answered. “How’s it going?”

  “Good, Sam. How are you?”

  Sam exhaled. “Lucas Dodge is getting out today.”

  Buddy swore, and Sam couldn’t blame him. “Sometimes I wish I’d died so Lucas could have gotten the maximum sentence,” Buddy said. “There’s no reason for that man to be walking around free.”

  “Agreed, but that doesn’t mean you should have died,” Sam said. “His sentence was way too light for what he did.” He and Buddy had this conversation on a fairly regular basis, but that wasn’t going to stop them from having it again.

  “At least his wife finally got away from him. She’s still in Arkansas?”

  “Last I heard.” Sally Dodge sent Sam a Christmas card every year, and he was always glad to know she was doing well. It had been touch-and-go for a while—she’d spent we
eks in the hospital.

  “I’ll never understand what makes a man think he can treat his wife that way. If it weren’t for my sweet Kathy, I don’t know where I’d be. I’d be a fool to treat her like anything but the angel she is.”

  “You’re a blessed man, Buddy. I’ve often wished Kathy had a little sister for me.”

  Buddy laughed. “If she did, you can bet I’d be hooking you up.”

  “Another domestic case came in this morning,” Sam said, changing the subject before they drifted off into discussing his personal life. “A young woman divorced her husband and moved out here to start over, and he showed up on her doorstep last night. Left her a gift, but didn’t speak with her—just skirting around the edges of his restraining order.”

  “Men who push those boundaries are men who are just fixin’ to bust through them altogether,” Buddy said. “I hope you’re keeping an eye on the situation.”

  “I’ve done some digging, and I’m going to do more.” While he spoke, Sam pulled up Mick’s police report again. He’d checked it earlier, but hadn’t read it in depth, and he wanted to know the extent of the abuse. His stomach churned when he read that Carly—then Karen—had sustained a broken arm, a cracked rib, and a concussion on three separate occasions. There was no mention of injuries to Sophie—thank goodness for that, at least.

  “Whole thing makes me sick,” Buddy said, echoing Sam’s exact thoughts. “Let me know what happens.”

  “I will. Take care of yourself, Buddy.”

  After Sam hung up, he clicked a few more times and found the pictures the hospital had taken of Carly’s injuries. The report hadn’t mentioned bruising to the face—he hated incomplete reports—but they certainly showed up in the pictures. She looked haunted, humiliated, and in pain, so very different from the woman who had stepped into his office. No one, man or woman, should ever be treated like that, but he was especially angry when he saw a woman covered in bruises. It went against everything he’d been raised to believe—Sam’s father had been a protector of women and children, and Sam honored that legacy.

  He hit the intercom button on his phone. “Rose, have you had a chance to look up the financials for Mick Clark or to call the hotels?”

  “Working on it, boss. I’ve had some phone calls come in—nothing major. I sent the ones that needed follow-up out to Deputy Grant.”

  “Thanks. I don’t mean to rush you—I appreciate what you’re doing.”

  She gave a noncommittal grunt, and he shut down the connection.

  As he’d driven through town, he’d hoped to spot Mick somewhere, but he hadn’t been that lucky. He had an hour before he had to pick up Tillie—he could give Rose a hand. He hit the intercom button again.

  “Rose, don’t worry about calling the hotels. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Are you sure? You’re a busy man.”

  “And you’re a busy woman. You just worry about the financials, and I’ve got the other.”

  “Okay. On it.”

  He picked up his phone and started working in a pattern, calling the hotels closest to Carly’s house first and working outward from there. Knowing that Mick paid the florist with a large bill, he suspected that’s how the hotel bill was being paid too, and not every hotel was very scrupulous about checking for ID. As he placed each call, he not only asked for Mick Clark, but for anyone who had checked in paying cash only and who fit Mick’s general description.

  Turned out, several people fit Mick’s general description.

  By the time he’d called all the most likely hotels, he had a list of five possibilities. He emailed the list and the picture of Mick over to Deputy Grant, then called and asked if he’d have time to check them out.

  “Not before the end of my shift,” Grant replied. “I could hit two or three of them, though.”

  “Take the top three, and forward the rest to Deputy Anderson,” Sam told him. “That’ll keep him busy when he takes over for you.”

  “Yeah, gotta keep him out of trouble,” Grant said with a chuckle. Anderson liked to flirt a little too much whenever there was a pretty girl involved in an investigation. Hopefully, all the hotel clerks would be male or over forty—all the better for keeping Anderson focused.

  He pushed away from his chair and grabbed his coat. Time to pick up Tillie and see what was in the fridge for dinner—might be time to make that grocery shopping trip he’d been dreading.

  Chapter Five

  Carly’s talk with Sophie’s school had gone well—all she’d need to do was sign a form stating that she was checking Sophie out until a specified date and that she’d be tutoring her during the absence. They even let Carly borrow some books, just as she’d been hoping. As she put the books in her car, she had a realization—part of her had been hoping it would be more complicated so she’d have an excuse to turn down the tour.

  It was hard to admit, but she was scared—what if she got out on the road, and the audiences rejected her? It was one thing to know her single was being purchased by faceless people out there somewhere, but quite another to be on a stage where she could gauge everyone’s reactions. If she wasn’t well received, she could bring down the tour for the other artists, and she’d hate to do that to them.

  She went back inside the school building to wait for Sophie. While she was talking to the office about the tour, she’d also told them about Mick, and they’d agreed to let her pick Sophie up inside. It just felt safer to her, and she was all about feeling safe.

  The bell rang, and children poured out of their classrooms like ants from a hill. “Hi, Mommy!” Sophie said, running up and taking Carly by the hand. “Tillie punched a boy in the nose today. It didn’t bleed, but it sure made him mad!”

  “Tillie punched a boy?” Carly couldn’t believe that. Tillie was such a cute little thing—she didn’t look at all like a bully. “What happened?”

  “Well, there’s this boy named Randy, and he was chasing me around at recess and calling me names, and Tillie told him to stop, and he wouldn’t, so she punched him. It was even better than the other day.”

  “Wait.” Carly blinked. “You were being called names? And this happened the other day, too?”

  Sophie nodded. “But Tillie’s taking care of me, Mom. She says that’s what they do in her family—they take care of people.”

  Carly didn’t have an immediate response for that. She was too rattled by the idea that someone was hurting her child.

  She glanced up and saw Sam walking down the hallway from the office, looking a little bit sheepish.

  “Hello again,” she said as he drew near. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

  “Yeah, I was just coming to find you.” He glanced around at all the teachers and the children who were lingering. “Why don’t we go over to McDonald’s and let the girls play while we talk?”

  Carly didn’t want to have this conversation in front of all those people any more than he did. “I’ll meet you there.”

  McDonald’s was just down the block from the school, and after she ordered a snack at the counter, she joined Sam at a table overlooking the play area.

  “So, I understand that my daughter’s being bullied at school, and that your daughter has gone vigilante to protect her,” she said, getting straight to the point.

  Sam chuckled. “Yeah, it would appear that way. The principal asked me to stop by, and believe me, I wasn’t expecting to hear that my daughter was turning into a little bruiser. It’s hard to know what to say to her. She’s sticking up for her friend, which is a good thing, but she’s punching kids—”

  “Which might also be a good thing.” Carly shook her head. “Sorry—I shouldn’t have said that. But how are these kids going to learn that they can’t treat people like this? They’ve got to have consequences, and if they aren’t stopped, they’re just going to escalate as they get older. If they’re stopped now, they have a chance to learn better and make better choices.”

  “Agreed. I just wish it wouldn’t escalate into
punching people in the nose.”

  Carly nodded, then started to laugh. “You should have seen Sophie while she was telling me about it. She worships Tillie—that’s obvious.”

  “I’m glad the girls are there for each other.” Sam passed his hand over his face. “I do an assembly every year where I talk about bullying and how we should treat other people, and now I’m wondering if I’m doing any good at all.”

  “You can’t expect five-year-olds to pay attention every minute during an assembly,” Carly pointed out. “What if you came in once a quarter and reminded them?”

  “That’s a good idea. And I wonder if there’s a way to make it more memorable. I’m just an old guy standing on a stage talking about things they don’t really understand yet—I need a new approach.”

  Carly was about to retort that Sam wasn’t old, but she stopped herself. She’d just realized what a good-looking man he was. Yes, she’d noticed that before, but that was when she was annoyed at him, and that made him more annoying. Now she was sitting across the table from him, and the sun was coming in the window and making his eyes sparkle, and it was annoying, but in a different way. Now she was annoyed because she was attracted to him, and she didn’t have the time or the patience to be attracted to anyone at the moment.

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” she said, busying herself by unwrapping her cheeseburger. Their food had arrived at some point during their conversation, and she hadn’t even been aware of it.

  “In the meantime, the school told me that I need to have a talk with my daughter. I told them I sure hoped they were calling in the parents of these other kids and insisting they do the same thing, and I told them they’d be better off making Tillie the official playground monitor, since the one they have is doing such a poor job of it.”

  Carly paused with her sandwich halfway to her mouth. “Did you really say that?”