Jared turned those imperturbable eyes on Hank. "So do me a favor, buddy, and quit making assumptions. You don't know the first damn thing about me."
Hank stiffened and P.J. took a casual step forward that put her between them.
Jared merely put his long hands on her shoulders and leaned over her head. "But because I live to brighten your day, I will tell you that I'm out of here after we get to L.A."
"And not a moment too soon," Hank muttered. But the look he gave Jared was more thoughtful than his usual you-asshole glare.
She, on the other hand, just felt sort of edgy. Dissatisfied. "Where's Eddie?" she demanded and winced at her petulant tone.
"I'm here, babe."
He stood in the wings with a young blonde beneath the drape of his arm. This one looked barely legal and P.J. was fresh out of patience. "If you'd be so kind?"
"You betcha." Giving the blonde a final squeeze, he set her loose and strolled onto the stage.
She turned to Hank. "And our backup band?"
"They're down in the passageway, most of them," he said. "I'll tell 'em it's time." He disappeared behind the speakers and yelled down the steps. Men's voices replied from the cavernous corridor below, then footsteps sounded on the stairs.
"Good," she said, even though nothing felt all that good to her at the moment. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I've got things to do. So whataya say we get this under way? Is the soundman here?"
An affirmation came from the darkened orchestra pit and P.J. nodded. "All right, then. Let's go."
Watching Jared saunter toward the wing where the blonde stood, it took her a moment to realize Hank was talking to her. She turned to him. "Huh?"
"We playing this in the usual order? I'm trying to figure out banjo or fiddle for the first song."
"Oh." She had to think a second, then shrugged when it still didn't pop to mind. "Yeah, usual order." Whatever that was.
"Banjo, then."
She gave her head an impatient shake as he turned away to exchange instruments. What the hell was the matter with her? If the constant traveling was catching up with her already that didn't bode well. They'd barely gotten started.
Nell shuffled what looked like a song score to the back of her clipboard and walked to center stage to check off the musicians who were beginning to trickle onto the bandstand. When everyone was assembled, she turned to P.J. and nodded. "We're good to go."
"Okay, let's get right to it," she said. She just couldn't get in the mood for this today and wanted it over and done with as quickly as possible.
The musicians were launching into the first number when a short metallic screech rent the air overhead. Musical notes trailed off as everyone stopped to listen, but the noise had ceased. They raised their instruments again, but before they could launch back into the beginning of the song the sound came again-a short, high-pitched shriek that ended almost as quickly as it had begun.
Everyone looked up. "What the hell?" someone muttered.
Then there was a longer attenuated screech, and the next thing P.J. knew, Jared was racing toward them. "Clear the stage!" he yelled, and when everyone still stood frozen in shock, he leaped into the air.
And took Nell to the floor in a flying tackle just before a huge metal light on a cable that had been severed on one side came swooping with the velocity of a home-run ball straight through the spot where she'd stood a second ago.
"Stay down," P.J. heard him order as her friend began to struggle beneath him. He hunched over her, clearly prepared to take the brunt of the light if it swung back their way.
And sure enough, they were still in its trajectory when it reached the cable's apex and started its return swing. From what she could judge from where she stood, P.J. thought it was probably high enough off the ground to pass right over them.
But she wouldn't want to bet the bank on it. And finally she moved. "Can somebody get that?" she yelled and raced toward them.
Hank passed her and threw himself in the light's path, catching it before it reached the pair on the floor. P.J. heard Hank's breath explode from his lungs as the fixture hit him in the diaphragm, but he bent and wrapped his arms around it, hugging it to himself. "Jesus," he whispered and let go of the metal casing to grab hold of the cable that still attached it to the overhead beams. Angry red marks marred his inner forearms.
"Ohmigawd, it's hot, isn't it?"
He shrugged, and she gave herself a head slap.
"Stupid question. Of course it is."
He passed the broken fixture to Eddie, who'd come to help, and squatted down next to Jared and Nell. "Y'all okay?"
"I'm fine." Jared lifted himself off Nell but knelt beside her, gently touching the back of her head and her shoulders. "How about you? Are you all right? Did I bruise you?"
"Um." She rolled over gingerly then pushed herself up into a sitting position. She blinked from him to Hank. "What the hell happened?"
The portly stage manager arrived, out of breath and apologetic. P.J. stepped between him and Hank when her musician looked ready to charge like an enraged bull. She gave the manager her best no-nonsense look. "You want to tell me what happened here?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Morgan. We won't really know until we take the light back to our electrician and have him look at it."
"That's not good enough," Hank snarled. "Nell could have been seriously hurt."
"But I wasn't," she said and with Jared's assistance climbed to her feet. She crossed over to Hank and patted his arm. "I'm fine. A little the worse for wear and shook up, but fine. Don't blame him. Accidents happen."
But nerves that stemmed from more than having to wait for the stage crew to finish checking the remaining lights before they were allowed to get back to it were in evidence throughout the sound check. And their music during the actual concert later that evening was edgier than usual. When the last note was sung, P.J. knew that she for one hadn't given her best performance. Fortunately the audience hadn't seemed to notice.
Uncertain she could blame it strictly on the accident, she was subdued and feeling down as she washed off her stage makeup in the dressing room after the show. When she stepped out into the vast corridor a short while later, she was happy to see that Nell had waited for her. They fell into step and the sound of their shoes striking the linoleum-over-cement floors bounced off the concrete-block walls. Harsh overhead fluorescent tubing negated the late hour.
"I'll be happy to see the last of this town," Nell said.
"Yeah, me, too." But part of her wasn't quite ready to move on, no matter how much she'd been looking forward to seeing L.A.
Hank was smoking a cigarette on the tarmac outside the bus when they arrived and Jared stood a few feet away, his shoulders and one foot propped against the vehicle's silver exterior.
"What are you guys doing out here?" P.J. asked as she and Nell walked up, surprised to see them together.
"Marvin's not here," Jared replied and pushed away from the bus. He gave it a slap. "He left this buggy locked up tight, which is actually a good thing, if inconvenient."
"Where could he have gone? He's usually around when we need him."
Jared shrugged and Hank rolled the paper tube of his cigarette between his fingers until the coal dropped to the ground. Stepping on it, he disposed of the dead butt in a nearby trash can, then walked over to join them. "Interesting concert tonight," he said.
"Yeah," she agreed glumly. "Not our best."
"Having a missile on a string come hurtling outta the blue tends to put a crimp in a band's style."
Marvin came bustling up. "I'm sorry, Miz Morgan," he said, his sparse gingery red hair standing up in electrified tufts. "A kid told me I had a call from home in the front office, but it musta been a practical joke because the office was locked when I got there and my wife didn't have a clue what I was talking about when I called her back." He grimaced apologetically. "I shoulda known she'da just called me on my cell."