Broom and Gloom Read online

It was probably better that he’d cut me off before I said anything I regretted.

  He shook his head and stepped away. “Good night.”

  “Good night? How am I going to get back to the hotel?”

  “You’re resourceful. Figure something out.”

  With that, he sauntered out of the room and down the hallway. I heard a door slam and knew I was on my own.

  CHAPTER 13

  I was fuming inside. Absolutely fuming. More than frustrated, more than panicked, I was madder than a grave robber surrounded by urns.

  How could someone I’d looked up to and respected for so long be such a jerk? The idea of sleeping my way to the top absolutely repulsed me. I wasn’t the type. I never would be. I couldn’t respect anyone who did.

  Besides that, Levi himself had warned me not to be too trusting. All along, he was the one I shouldn’t have trusted. He had a lot of nerve.

  I shook my head. The other fact remained that I wasn’t usually so naïve. How had I gotten myself in this situation? Even more: How would I get out of it? Not with my dignity intact, that was for sure.

  The only person I knew and could even think of as a possibility of whom to call was Trace. I had his number and he was fairly close. I really had no choice here.

  The problem remained that I had no idea where I was, though.

  I might as well be stranded in the desert.

  With Levi out of sight, I let out one more huff and decided to search his house. Certainly he had a piece of mail somewhere that listed his address. Right?

  I started down the opposite hallway from the one that Levi had gone down. With a touch of hesitation, I pushed open the first door. On the other side was an entertainment room, complete with two rows of recliners and giant-screen TV. The next room contained weight machines and a treadmill. I couldn’t imagine finding his address in there.

  The next room was a child’s room.

  Levi’s child’s room.

  There were toy airplanes hanging from the ceiling, colorful books on the shelves, and stuffed animals arranged behind a wooden headboard. The warmth of the room contradicted everything I felt about Levi Stone.

  What would someone who was such a jerk be like as a father? Didn’t parenthood usually set people straight, make people better? And how sad was it that he only saw his child once a month?

  I closed the door. As I started toward the next room, unable to merge the image of Levi the Jerk with Levi the Father, a chill suddenly washed over me. I glanced down the hallway, but there was no one there.

  At once, the darkness seemed more ominous and my seclusion out here felt even more isolated. Anxiety crept into my psyche.

  With my back against the wall, I continued creeping down the hallway, feeling like the idiot walking into danger instead of running away from it.

  The lights. That’s what was always missing in those movies. Why didn’t people just turn on some lights? Why didn’t I just turn on some lights?

  I felt along the plaster until I found the switch. But as I flicked the lever upward, nothing happened.

  I flipped it a couple more times, but still nothing happened. No light drove away the darkness.

  Great. Was the electricity out? What were the odds?

  I’d go get Levi and ask for his help here, but the last thing I needed to do was knock on his bedroom door. No way would I set myself up for that one.

  Tears burned at my eyes for a moment as another lurking thought emerged. Had Levi said all those nice things about me and my talent just because he had ulterior motives? Had he not meant a word of it? I’d felt so reaffirmed in my calling to do forensics. What if it had all been a lie?

  A creak sounded behind me. I twirled around, expecting to see someone there.

  The hallway was empty.

  Outside, the wind picked up, and I shivered. That had probably been it. The wind had made the noise, maybe even knocked out the power.

  I wanted to get out of this house. Now. I hadn’t asked to come here. Hadn’t asked to be in this position.

  After a moment of hesitation, I opened the next door and saw an office. An office.

  Thank goodness. This was the natural place for him to keep his mail. I needed to find an address—now!

  I pulled up the flashlight on my phone. Man, did I love that feature. I scanned the light over the room and didn’t see anything suspicious. With that in mind, I crept forward.

  My hands trembled by the time I reached his desk, which, of course, was clear of anything other than a desk calendar. Pushing away any guilt—I wouldn’t be doing this right now if Levi hadn’t been such a jerk—I pulled open the top drawer. A pile of papers was there, and I began to flip through them. At the bottom, I spotted some envelopes.

  His address was right there. Mission accomplished.

  I paused as I saw the return address. It was from a law firm, and the mail was marked certified, though it hadn’t been opened yet. Interesting. I wondered what that was about.

  Of course, all I cared about at the moment was getting out of here.

  My fingers were still quivery as I found Trace’s number and dialed. He answered on the second ring.

  “It’s Gabby, and I need your help.”

  “Sure thing. What’s going on, sis?”

  “It’s a long story, but can you pick me up? It’s an emergency.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  ***

  “Being right there” translated into thirty minutes of me pacing by the front door. Finally, I saw headlights pull into the driveway. Once I confirmed it was Trace, I hurried outside, feeling a touch humiliated at everything that had transpired. I knew that Trace deserved an explanation after coming to get me at two in the morning.

  I climbed into the passenger side seat and slammed the door. As I watched Levi’s house disappear in the side view mirror, I realized I would be content if I never saw that place again . . . or if I never saw Levi Stone again, for that matter.

  “You okay? You seem a little shaky,” Trace said, giving me a curious glance.

  “Levi was much less of a gentleman than I’d hoped.” I held my hands up to the warm air pouring from the vent, finding immense comfort in such a small thing. But I felt safe here with Trace, and feeling safe wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

  His jaw tightened. “One of those guys, huh?”

  “Yeah, one of those guys. I have enough guy problems, and I don’t want to add any more to my list.” I shook my head as a tremble shook me. “Sorry I had to wake you.”

  “I wasn’t asleep. I have a musician’s schedule anyway—up all night, sleep all day. Of course, anytime you need me and I’m close, just let me know and I’m there.”

  “Thanks, Trace. How are you doing with everything?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about Dud.”

  “Any updates?”

  He shook his head, the moonlight hitting the side of his face. Seriously, he looked like he could be filming a country music video at the moment. A sad one, unfortunately.

  “Not that I’ve been told,” Trace said. “I called and told Dud’s family what happened. One of the hardest phone calls I’ve ever had to make.”

  “I can imagine. I’m sorry.”

  “I just can’t comprehend who would do this.” He grimaced. “Dud’s family is coming into town. I’m thinking the funeral will be early next week, provided the body is released by then. Jono’s not happy with me, but I can’t see starting the tour next week without Dud.”

  “It sounds really tough.”

  “Plus, on a purely logical level, we’ll have to get a new drummer. It’s going to take more rehearsals to get used to playing with someone new. We can’t launch our tour and make mistakes.” He shook his head and glanced over at me. “That sounds callous, doesn’t it? I mean, part of me doesn’t even care if we go on tour. But contractually, we’re obligated to our record label. Plus, I know Dud would want us to go on. He was living his dreams, making a living making music.”
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br />   I shifted in my seat to better see Trace. “Trace, someone told me that Dud had been seeing Jody from merchandising. But the woman who was described as last seen with Dud didn’t look anything like Jody.”

  He frowned. “Really? Dud was usually pretty loyal. I can’t see him fooling around, despite the reputation musicians might have.”

  “Was there any tension in the band?”

  He half shrugged, half shook his head. “Not really. Just the usual stuff. There’s always going to be some creative pressure. Sometimes egos get in the way. But really the band gets along great.” He paused. “I suppose there was some strain with our drummer.”

  “Dud?”

  “Sorry, I should have clarified. Our first drummer. He committed suicide last year. He had a lot of issues, and he was dragging all of us down with him. We didn’t want to cut him loose, but he was unreliable and unpredictable. We had suspicions that he was doing drugs. Anyway, he didn’t take it well. One of his friends found him in his apartment. He’d ODed.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. That’s got to be tough.”

  “Absolutely. I never wished harm on him. I really didn’t. I was hoping getting cut from the band would be a wake-up call for him and that he’d get his life together.” He shook his head. “It didn’t work out that way.”

  “What about Jono?”

  “What about him?” He looked at me again, a clueless expression in his eyes.

  “I heard there was some tension after you fired your first manager and hired Jono.”

  He readjusted his hat. “That’s just business. It’s not fun. I wish I didn’t have to deal with it. But Lenny had been with us for years and taken us nowhere. We needed someone with connections and a proven track record.”

  “How did Lenny handle that news?”

  Trace shrugged. “About as well as you can imagine. He wasn’t happy. He said we’d never succeed without him.”

  Was he willing to make sure the band failed by killing Dud and sabotaging the beginning of their yearlong tour? It seemed pretty desperate, but I wanted to keep my mind open to all the possibilities here.

  “He was at your release party, Trace.”

  Trace jerked his head toward me, crinkles at his eyes. “What? No . . .”

  I nodded. “He was. I spoke with him. I didn’t realize who he was until I saw his photo in Wentworth’s trailer.”

  “Why would he come to the party? What sense does it make? He hasn’t spoken to me for months.”

  “And I guess he didn’t speak to you while he was at the release?”

  Trace’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he readjusted his hands. “No, I had no idea he was there, even.”

  “Did he know about Georgia?”

  Trace was silent for a moment before nodding. “No, but Lenny gets around. I think he and Leroy might still talk. They were pretty good friends. I suppose Lenny could have heard about Georgia from him.”

  Then he could know to frame the things that had happened on her.

  “Is he working with another band yet?”

  “Not that I know of. You think he could be guilty?” He cast a fleeting glance my way.

  “I’m not assuming anything. But I want to examine every possibility.”

  Because someone wouldn’t have lured me into a bull pasture for no reason. Something was going on, and I would figure out what.

  CHAPTER 14

  Trace pulled to a stop in front of a small house in a middle-class neighborhood. “You mind camping out here tonight? I promise to drive you back to the conference in the morning. I’ve got a radio interview in an hour.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “It’s for a morning show over in Britain. I don’t want to come across as ungentlemanly-like, such as Levi did. Not all of us Oklahomans are jerks.”

  “You don’t give me that vibe, and I really just appreciate the help.” I didn’t feel unease at his suggestion like I did when Levi had pulled up to his place. I should have trusted my gut all along.

  We walked inside. The place was a bachelor pad, but all around were mementos of country music and the rodeo. There were framed records, and pictures of Trace with his favorite stars—Garth Brooks, George Strait, Brooks and Dunn. “You really do love this stuff, don’t you?”

  He hung his hands on his belt. “Sure do. It’s what I’ve wanted to do forever. I just can’t believe I’m finally here. It’s a dream come true. And it all happened because of a breakup.”

  “A breakup?” Now this was a story I wanted to hear.

  “I dated a girl for two years. Thought we’d get married. But she broke up with me—totally blindsided me—and I wrote ‘Doom and Groom’ as a result. I never expected it would become a hit.”

  “Funny the way things work out like that.”

  He walked into the kitchen. “Would you like some water?” He held out a bottle.

  I took it from him and twisted off the top. Then I plopped down on the couch and stretched out, grateful to finally be able to breathe again. I glanced in the corner across from me and raised my eyebrows in surprise at the cage I saw.

  I stepped closer. “Is that a . . . bunny?”

  He let out a chuckle and raised his water bottle. “Yeah, what can I say? I’m on the road too much to have a dog, and I’m not much of a cat person. I figured I could take a rabbit with me on the road. Bugs and I are always there for each other.”

  Terrible visions filled my head. I tried to push the images away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I opened my eyes and stared at him. He was being sincere. “You have a bunny.”

  Still nothing registered in his gaze.

  “Bunny boilers?” I hinted.

  No reaction.

  “Come on, you have to have seen Fatal Attraction, one of the top femme fatale movies of all time. And now you have a stalker and a bunny.”

  “Oh yeah. I never thought about that—and I really don’t want to.” He plopped down beside me. “So, Gabby, tell me about the man my mom is going to marry.”

  Any feelings of relaxation I’d felt instantly disappeared. The last thing I wanted to talk to Trace about was my father, mostly because I didn’t want to be honest. I didn’t want to skirt around the truth. But I didn’t want to alarm Trace either, or ruin one of the best things that had happened to my dad in the last decade.

  “My dad has . . . he’s turned a lot of corners,” I finally settled on saying. That was putting it nicely.

  “Oh yeah?” He stared at me, obviously waiting for more.

  “I don’t want to lie, Trace. My dad was messed up for a long time. I longed for a father for most of my life, and he never stepped up to the plate. Instead, he turned to alcohol to numb the pain after my brother disappeared.” My words sound melodramatic, but they were true. I decided to end on a positive note, though. “But your mom has turned him around.”

  “I appreciate that, Gabby. I have to say, that pretty much echoes what Teddi said about him.”

  My eyes widened. “Did she?” I’d always thought Teddi was blind to my father. I had no idea she was aware of my dad’s past.

  “My mom may have a heart of gold, but she’s not too trusting. My dad worked hard in the oil business as a blue-collar worker for a long time until the cancer got the best of him. She believes in second chances.”

  “We all need someone in our lives who believes in second chances, don’t we?”

  “We absolutely do.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I’d love to talk more, but I’ve got to prep for this interview. You going to be okay?”

  “I am. I just appreciate you doing this. Thank you.”

  He opened the closet and pulled out a pillow and Sooners blanket. “Make yourself comfortable. I wish I could offer you more.”

  “I assure you, this is plenty.”

  As he disappeared, I leaned back and tried to relax for a moment. Of course, my mind was racing a million miles a minute with more questions than answers.
r />   I plucked a piece of paper from the end table. Perhaps it was nosiness, or maybe even boredom. But I began reading the words there, scribbled in a sloppy scrawl on a piece of yellow legal paper.

  I just want to tell you

  I know you feel broken

  I know life ain’t always easy

  Pain is easily awoken

  Good times roll by too fast

  But I assure you

  You’ll be whole again one day

  Every night that’s what I pray

  Because the sun still rises in the east

  And the rain still falls in the spring

  Life goes on

  And so must you.

  Because there’s one thing I know for sure

  You’re a survivor

  Something about the lyrics hit me, and tears popped into my eyes.

  So much for not being mopey.

  But I felt like these lyrics could have been written for me. My life, in some ways, seemed like it was in a constant state of flux. Yet, in other ways, the things I wanted to change stayed the same. I desperately wanted to be whole again, and I knew the only way to do that was through fully trusting in God in every aspect of my life.

  I closed my eyes. “Lord, give me wisdom and guidance. Show me Your path as I press on toward what You’ve called me to do. Help me run this race without growing weary.”

  Suddenly, a verse came to mind. And it came to pass.

  Wasn’t that the truth? Problems were like the tide. They came and went. As I closed my eyes, I felt like God was speaking to me.

  Press on. Bad things will pass on. Good things, too. But the one constant in your life will always be there: Me.

  Just then, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, and a text message from Riley popped up.

  Just wanted to let you know that I’ve been thinking about you.

  Great. What timing. Here I was having my spiritual breakthrough moment, and Riley contacts me.

  This was where I had to put action to my words. It was one thing to make silent resolves. It was a whole different story to live them out. To live out my trust in God.

  So, what did it mean that Riley was “thinking about me”? Was he jerking me around? I’d basically come to the conclusion that his “My therapist told me to do it” was the equivalent of “The devil made me do it.” But what if he really was trying to do what was best for me and our relationship? I hadn’t seriously considered that possibility since all of this happened.