Murder at Castle Rock (18 page)

"So we meet again, love." Bobby grinned.

Jared elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a warning look. "Behave," he uttered under his breath. "Everything alright, here?" he asked, eyeing Tony warily. Tony glowered right back at him, and I had to roll my eyes at them both. I was getting awfully tired of their pissing contest.

"We're fine, thanks to Tony," I replied, stepping between the pair as they sized each other up like a couple of alpha males ready to square off. "We had a tire blowout." I conveniently left out the high-speed chase part.

"I should have 'er fixed in no time," Tony said. "I work part-time as a mechanic, and this isn't my first flat. I've got a spare and all the tools I need back here." He patted a toolbox sitting just inside the open door at the back of van. "So, I think we're all set here if you dudes want to get back to your night out." He glared at Jared.

A gust of wind blew over us. The adrenaline of my near-death experience had worn off, and I was suddenly aware of just how cold it was. Amidst the night's chaos, I'd left my coat back at Castle Rock.

Jared watched me as I shivered, and his brow furrowed. "I think maybe we should get you home, Amelia," he said, sounding concerned. "You're freezing."

Tony gave me a sideways glance. "She'll be fine," he said, scowling at Jared. "I'll get her home soon enough."

Jared stepped forward. "I'm going to have to insist. She needs to get somewhere warm before she gets sick."

I wanted to tell him that I'd be fine staying there, but it was hard to argue through chattering teeth. Another gust of wind sliced through me, and I shuddered. Bobby, Jared, and Tony were all looking at me, waiting. A weary sigh slipped from me. "I
am
really cold," I admitted, looking guiltily at Tony. "And to be honest, I'm still pretty freaked out about everything that's happened…" My voice trailed off. I didn't have the heart to tell him that all I wanted right then was a hot shower. After all, it was my fault we were stuck on the side of the road in the first place.

Tony shot me a wounded look "Just go," he said, throwing up his hands. He turned away from me. "I'll get your purse." Tony stalked toward the front of the van.

"Tony, wait!" My cheeks burned as I trotted after him. "I'm sorry," I said softly when we were out of earshot of the others. "You wouldn't be out here in the cold with a flat tire if I hadn't insisted on following the truck. I should stay with you."

Tony reached into the van and retrieved my purse. "It's alright," he said, though his tone was sulking. "You should go with them. It's late, and I've still got to get the van back to the station after this." He met my gaze, and a sly grin spread slowly across his face. "I was just hoping I'd be able to get you alone later."

I glanced over my shoulder. Jared and Bobby were out of sight behind the van. "We're alone for the moment," I said, biting my lip.

"So we are." Tony leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. My pulse quickened as a jolt of white-hot electricity shot through me at his touch. I closed my eyes and lost myself in his kiss for a few seconds. "I've wanted to do that all night," he whispered when he finally pulled away. He chucked me gently under the chin and rubbed a thumb over my bottom lip. "Definitely worth the wait."

"Mmmhmm." I blushed and clumsily stumbled back a step, grinning like an idiot.

Tony handed over my purse. "I'll call you tomorrow," he said then turned to walk back around to the rear of the van to retrieve his tools. I waved goodbye and floated on the Cloud Nine Express all the way to the back of the limo.
Damn!
When I got home, I was going to have to nix that hot shower and take a cold one instead.

I was still swooning when I climbed into the limousine's back seat—until I caught Jared's look of disapproval as he climbed in after me. "I
really
don't like that guy," he muttered under his breath. I rolled my eyes and leaned forward through the divider window to give the driver my address, then settled back into the plush interior. The limo had long seats that stretched in a rectangle around the interior of the back, with a divider window behind the driver, and a small bar set up in one corner. The best part? Candy the Turbo Slut was nowhere to be seen.

Bobby climbed in after us and immediately lunged for the seat next to the mini bar, where he began pouring glasses of champagne. The two empty bottles on the bar told me he was already pretty toasted. Bobby dropped a cherry in one full glass, and as the limo pulled back onto the interstate he leaned across the seats to hand it to me. His hand closed over mine as I accepted the drink, but he released me as soon as he caught Jared giving him the evil eye. I liked having Jared around to keep the perv at bay. I took a sip of my drink and leaned back, closing my eyes. After all I'd been through this week, I could use some rock star treatment.

"Where's your girlfriend?" I asked Jared casually as he slid into the seat next to mine.

Jared glanced sideways at me and replied, "She's not my girlfriend, and I don't think we'll be seeing any more of her for a while."

I frowned at him in confusion. "Oh, is that right? Could've fooled me, the way you two were practically connected at the hip. Where'd she go off to?"

"Rehab."

I nearly choked on the cherry in my champagne. "Rehab! Really? But she was just with you guys when you left Castle Rock a couple of hours ago. What happened?"

Jared glanced over at Bobby, who was leaning forward through the divider and regaling the driver with one of his wild party stories, sloshing champagne across the front seat as he gestured with the hand that held his glass. Jared leaned closer to me. "There was a van waiting to pick her up when we got back to the hotel. Someone got tired of seeing her throw her life away for a cocaine addiction and decided to call and get her the help she needed." He winked at me, and I felt my heart soften towards him. He was the one who made the call. I remembered how he seemed to be ignoring her as she used at the bar the night before—he must've not wanted to tip her off that she'd be getting sent off to get help.

"Wow. I wish her a speedy recovery," I said softly, and I meant it. "What about your drummer? Did you send him off too?"

Jared smile. "Nah, he's still around. He just decided to call it an early night. Cliff's not much of a partier."

"You don't say?" I stifled a laugh, trying to picture the quiet, serious drummer letting loose on something other than his drum kit. I turned to gaze out the window at the beautiful Atlanta skyline. "I love the city lights at night," I said, changing the subject.

I felt the heat of Jared's skin as his hand gently closed over my wrist. "Tell me something, Amelia," he said quietly. I fought hard to hold back the desire welling up inside me, ready to bubble to the surface at a moment's notice. "Why are you trying so hard to find out who killed your boss? Shouldn't you leave that to the police?"

Talk about a mood killer.
I wrenched my arm from his grasp. "What business is it of yours?" I asked warily, perhaps a little too loudly. Bobby paused his story time with our chauffeur and eyed me with mild interest. After a moment, he looked down at his nearly empty glass of Dom Pérignon and decided that it deserved his full attention.

I leveled a frosty look at Jared. "Parker wasn't just my boss, you know," I said, my tone defensive. "He was my friend."

"I get that," Jared said gently, holding up his hands in surrender. "I don't want to fight with you—it's just that it's dangerous enough to hunt down a killer when you're getting paid to do it—like the cops are. Yet here you are, risking your life for free."

I dropped my eyes to the limousine floor, considering his words. So I'd nearly been killed in a high-speed chase with a potential murderer. True, that was no picnic, but I was doing what I had to do to clear both Reese's and Kat's names. When it came down to it, I couldn't stand idly by and watch their world get ripped apart—because it was my world too. "I'll do anything to take care of the people I love."

Jared nodded, a small smile spreading on his lips. "That's an admirable trait, that." The smile faltered. "I'd just hate to see you get hurt."

You and me both,
I thought. "I'm a grown woman. I can take care of myself. That, and it seems I've got a couple of guardian angels." I nodded to Bobby and him with a half-smile. "It was pretty lucky that you two came along tonight right after our accident."

Jared muttered something under his breath. He met my curious gaze and opened his mouth to say something more, but Bobby had turned around for another refill of champagne and decided to join in the conversation. "We saw you and that radio bloke speeding down the street in that bloody van, and this kook insisted that we follow you." He gestured to Jared with his champagne glass. "Next thing we knew, the van was sliding clear across the bloody road. He freaked and made our driver pull over."

I eyed Jared suspiciously. "You were following me? Why?"

It was Jared's turn to blush. His gaze dropped guiltily to the floor. He ran his hand over his short black hair. "I saw that you were chasing that truck. I thought you might need help."

A smile curled my lips. It was kind of sweet that he'd been worried about me. "Thanks, but I can take care of myself."

Several minutes later, the driver pulled into the turn-around in front of my apartment building. Jared held out a hand to stop the driver from opening my door and climbed out to do it himself. I couldn't help but swoon a little at his chivalry.

Bobby rolled down one of the windows and poked his head out to bid me goodnight, and I thanked him for the ride and wished him well on the rest of his tour. My star struck feelings for Glitter from my youth had faded in the short time since I'd met him, and, truth be told, I was a little relieved that my business with him was done.

Jared walked me to the apartment building entrance. He opened the front door to the complex but remained standing in the threshold. "Look, Amelia," he began. "I need you to make me a promise."

"Yeah?" I searched his face. Worry lines creased his forehead.

"I want you to promise that you'll be careful. Don't go after Shawn Stone on your own—and that doesn't mean that you should call up your radio boyfriend to go with you. Let the police handle Stone." His voice was pleading. "You really don't know who you're dealing with."

I frowned. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not giving up this fight until I find out who did this to Parker and Laura—and see that they're brought to justice. I won't let my friends take the rap for this." I paused. "And Tony's not my boyfriend."
Not exactly.

"He isn't? Good," Jared said. He stepped forward, catching me off guard as he grabbed my arm. He pulled me close to him, so that his chin almost rested on the crown of my head. "You deserve better." He reached down to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. Jared cupped my face, lowering his own to mine. I sucked in a breath. He was standing so close to me, and I suddenly didn't know if I could stay that near to him without completely losing my cool. As his lips drew closer to mine I stopped breathing, waiting for him to make that one delicious move that would push me over the edge.

 At the last possible second, Jared hesitated. His lips found my ear instead. "Take care of yourself, Amelia," he whispered. He let go of me and walked slowly to the limousine without looking back.

I released the breath I'd been holding. As he reached the limo, I turned away, walking as steadily as I could to the elevator, trying to appear calm though my legs suddenly felt like rubber. When I was safely inside my apartment, I took that cold shower. And drank ice water.
And
I slept with the AC on high.

Ever have one of those mornings where you just don't want to wake up? Where all you want to do is tell your alarm clock where to shove it and then roll over and cruise on back to La La Land? That was pretty much my sentiment on Thursday morning when my alarm chirped its annoyingly chipper "Good Morning" song about three hours before my body felt was a reasonable time.

I slammed a grumpy hand down on the snooze button. What was the point of getting up, anyway? Despite the somewhat steamy end to my evening, the night before had been a disaster. Laura was in the hospital, Reese was in jail, Kat was the top suspect in Parker's murder—and we'd lost Bobby's final show to the Beat Barn. Everything was crashing down around and me, and I felt powerless to stop it.

After a shower and some breakfast, I begrudgingly called a towing company to have my car taken to Pep Boys for a replacement battery. I rode shotgun in a dust-covered "Mike's Towing Service" truck alongside a beast of a man named Marv. His gigantic gut flapped over his belt, and his grey collared Mike's shirt was too short by about an inch, give or take. I tried to make small talk to distract myself from gawking at his exposed hairy belly, but Marv wasn't much of a talker. He dropped me off at Pep Boys and unhooked my car, and I shelled out some cash into his grubby waiting hand, wishing I'd switched to AAA last year so I'd have gotten free towing with a more personable driver.
Sigh.

I placed an order at the service desk to replace my battery, and on a whim I decided to get my oil changed and tires rotated while I was at it. I knew I'd thank myself later when I had a few less car-related problems to worry about. While the Jetta was being serviced, I got tired of sitting in the uncomfortable metal lobby chair and got up to stroll around the store to stretch my legs. I perused aisle after aisle, marveling at the vast number of car parts that I couldn't identify. One aisle end-cap showcased several shelves of what, to my untrained eye, looked like steel rods, about two feet in length, with metal cylinders and screws on the ends of them. I stared hard at the shelf for a long moment, certain that one of these strange-looking rods had caused our crash the night before. A Pep Boys passed by, and I flagged him over. "What are these?" I asked, picking one up and turning it over in my hands.

The young man glanced down at the steel pole in my hand and grinned. "You're the second person to come in asking about those today. What you've got there is called a tie rod," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.