"You little bitch."
"You don't know the half of what a bitch I can be. Because I also gave the books you cooked to my manager for safekeeping. And wouldn't all those nice folk who think you're so misused be crushed to hear how you embezzled from the daughter who's supported you since she was a kid? Well, crushed for about five minutes, that is. Then they'll probably be madder than a nest of hornets hit by a stick. Funny how allegiances can turn on a dime. And hey, remember Jared Hamilton? He's standing right here. Say hi to my mama, Jared." She extended the phone toward him.
"Hi, Miz Morgan," he said obligingly from several feet away.
"Jared was there the day I called begging you to let me come home and you hung up on me. Wonder what the people who've been reading that my response to problems is to run away would make of that?"
"Well, let me think-would that be the boy who was wanted for murdering his old man?" Jodeen scoffed. But she didn't sound nearly as confident as she had a few minutes ago.
"Yep, that's him. Except the questioning was dropped even before they caught the person who actually committed the crime. He's a highly respected man from a prominent family. Between the two of you, who doyou think a jury would believe?" She rubbed at the incipient headache brewing in her temples, but kept her voice hard and firm when she said, "Call your agent, Jodeen. Because if I hear one more slanderous word out of your mouth, if I read one more libelous article, not only will you not make another red cent but I'll make it my life's mission to keep you so tied up in court that you'll be old, gray and so deep in debt that you'll have to reach up just to touch ground long before anything's settled."
Her mother cursed long and inventively.
"Goodbye, Mama." She disconnected the call, then let her arm drop to her side, the phone suddenly feeling as though it weighed twenty pounds.
"Way to go, P.J.!" Feeling like cheering, Jared stared at her with a gleeful admiration that was almost savage in its intensity. If he felt a hint of liberation as well that she wasn't nearly as vulnerable as he had feared, well, he'd just keep that to himself. But listening to her deal with Jodeen had been a pure pleasure from start to finish, because he'd never expected her to stand up to her mother like that. "What a tiger."
She burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.
"Heyyyy." Hauling her in, he held her close, tipping his head down to try to see her sad little face as she babbled a lament in which he caught maybe one word in ten.
He heard her loud and clear, however, when she sighed, rubbed a knuckle under her nose and said, "Can we go to bed now, J? I need you to just hold me for a while."
He stilled for a moment. No, no, no, no, no. This wasn't the agenda he'd planned earlier. This was the time he'd intended to talk to her, to make sure that she understood they were just friends:with benefits:and that he was okay with her moving on when his job here was done. Hell, he was more than okay with it-he was a goddamn glacier peak, impregnable and remote, right?
Damn straight. Beyond his family, he had no need for permanent ties.
But instead of saying any of that he blew out a breath, tucked her under his arm and led her to the bedroom, attributing the inexplicable flicker of reprieve he felt to the fact that his sister and Rocket hadn't raised him to be an ass. He was still going to have that talk with her.
But only a complete jerk would kick her when she was down.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Headline, Entertainment Section,Denver Post:
Colorado's Own Priscilla Jayne Leaves Sellout Crowds Begging For More
"YOU'RE WHISTLING AGAIN." P.J. looked across the room at Nell as they cleared the dressing room of her belongings after the Fort Collins concert. "You've been whistling a lot lately. Is that the tune for your new song?"
"Mmm-hmm." But color rose in her cheeks.
P.J. paused in the midst of removing her tinfoil star from outside the door to stare at her. "Oh my God." She lifted the star off the nail then stepped back into the room and kicked the door shut behind her. "Nell Husner. You hussy. You've been fiddling with my fiddler." She pointed a finger at her friend. "You and Hank have been doing the deed!"
More color flared in Nell's cheeks but she pointed right back at P.J. "And you and Jared haven't?"
P.J. carefully placed the cheesy star Hank had made her to commemorate their first contract into a box atop the other items she used to personalize every dressing room. Then she looked up at her friend. And grinned. "Oh, God, we have been. Doing it anddoing it! And I gotta tell you, it's been so:my God, it's just been so:" She shook her head. "Wow. I don't even have the words. This is probably just plain pitiful to admit at my age, but I had no idea it could be like this." And okay, Jared's insistence on holding himself back to the very last minute might render it not quite perfect. But she had high hopes that he'd start loosening up a little and allowing more reciprocation on her part. And sex with him was still so far above anything she'd ever known with anyone else it wasn't even funny.
Nell grinned back. "I've had a couple of pretty good lovers, but Hank-" Her eyes went dreamy. "Well, he's in a class all his own. That man loves me up so well, I feel the need of a cigarette just talking about it."
"And you don't even smoke."
"I know." Her lips curled up in a secret smile. "Which just goes to show you how good he is."
"I'VE MADE SOME PROGRESSon our stalker." Jared looked up from the pages he was gathering from the printer he'd plugged into the galley's outlet. Everyone's attention was riveted on him.
He'd worked like a dog on this project for the past couple days, squeezing it in wherever he could snatch a moment between his regular duties. The information he'd culled today felt like the payoff for all his hard work and a slight smile tugged up the corner of his mouth. "Anyone care to see a photo of the guy?"
"Yes!" Everyone except Eddie, who was out, gathered around the table. He handed the first photo, a black-and-white head shot from a JPEG he'd gotten from the security firm that employed Menks, to P.J. "It's not the best quality," He warned her. "But it's a start." He looked past her to Marvin, who was peering over her shoulder. "It looks a lot like the guy in the sketch you and the police artist made, but you're the only one who's actually seen him face-to-face. What do you think? Is this the man who delivered the box?"
Marvin studied the photo P.J. passed to him then nodded. "Yes, sir. Like you said, it's not the best picture. But I remember the shape of those ears."
"Good. I'll make copies to hand out to Security at every venue we play. And I'll mention the ears. Anytime there's a single feature to home in on instead of having to make mental adjustments for a total look that may have been altered, the chances for success go up. Best-case scenario, we detain Menks for the police to question. Failing that, it should at least keep him from getting into the concerts. And every opportunity we have to shut him down makes P.J. that much safer."
Glancing at the next item in his notes gave him an additional spurt of satisfaction. "We caught another break. Menks has a daughter named Mary who lives in Amarillo. I'm going to have you drop me off there on our way down to Lubbock. I'll rent a car and catch up with the rest of you as soon as I can." He caught P.J.'s eye. "Don't think I'm abandoning you," he said, "because I'm not. I'm going to give John a call and have him hop a flight out here to stand guard."
"Don't bother," she said. "I'm going with you."