Rock 'n' Roll is Undead (Veronica Mason (6 page)

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“So was that it?” he asked.

“That was it, never saw the guy again.” I looked at my red-polished fingernails.

“Were there any other altercations?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“What kind of practice schedule do you all normally have?”

He looked up from his notepad. His dark brown eyes blended in with his dark lashes. The room was dim in our corner of the bar, although, the sun shone brightly outside. A few dark tinted windows dotted the front wall. I guess the owner didn’t want anyone to see how sparse the crowd was in there on some nights. The inside of the bar was covered with red velvet and intricate black ironwork—very gothic.

“Our schedule?” I asked.

“Yes, how often you have gigs and that sort of thing?”

Not sure why he needed to know. “Oh, well, we play every weekend. And a couple of nights a week. The other days we practice.”

“That’s a busy schedule. So you want to make it big time, huh?”

Odd question. What did that have to do with a murder investigation?

“Who doesn’t want to make it big?”

He didn’t answer.

“Anything else?” I was growing tired of him and his questions.

“Did Johnny have a girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” I studied my fingernails.

“Yes, a girlfriend.” He sounded irritated. “As in someone he dated.”

“Look, Detective Walker, this business is tough for guys sometimes.”

“And not for women?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s tougher for women, but in a different way. Women are better at handling it. Most men aren’t good with temptation.”

“Most?”

“A few are. Most aren’t. I don’t get into their business whether or not they have girlfriends.” For heaven’s sakes, I sure didn’t want to know what was going on behind closed doors. At least I hoped the doors were closed.

“You knew his wife?”

“Yes. I’ve met her.”

“But you don’t know about a girlfriend?”

“No. You think he was seeing someone other than his wife?” I said, taking another deep breath.

“Possibly.” He tapped his pen against the table.

“Well, like I said, there are a lot of women who like men in bands. No matter how small or unknown that band is. It’s just like the women who have a thing for men in uniform.” I smirked.

He arched a brow and looked at me. Maybe I shouldn’t have divulged that information, but it was true. Then the thought hit me: what if he thought I meant I had a thing for men in uniform? No way.

“So what made you think he might be seeing someone on the side?” I asked.

“I can’t give out that information. You saw him talking with other women?” Detective Walker stared.

“It was none of my business, but yes, sometimes I overheard him talking with the guys about girls in the audience.” And that little flash of thought about a blonde I got from Johnny after he’d been staked. But I’d leave that little tidbit out.

“Well that might not mean much, guys talk about women. That doesn’t mean they’re doing anything wrong,” he said.

“Oh, I know. But they’d talk about going to parties afterward.”

“And you didn’t go to these parties?” He studied my face.

“I’m a professional, I want to make it. I need my sleep and to rest my voice. Besides, I’ve always been a homebody.” I paused. “And there were times Johnny was late or missed practice. They were at vampire parties, I guess. I’m not wanted there.”

“You don’t like vampires, do you?”

Chapter 10

I stared at his fangs. “I have nothing against them. If I did, would I be hanging out in a vampire bar and have vampire band members? Vampires are the ones who don’t like witches.”

He paused, but didn’t deny the statement. Finally, he asked, “Why do you associate with vampires?”

Good question. I asked myself that often. “Because I can, I guess.”

His dark eyes fixed on my face, as if he were trying to read my mind, look inside and see what really made me tick. Even if he had access to my mind, he’d never figure it out. Heck, I couldn’t figure it out and it was my mind.

I changed the subject back before it became more uncomfortable. “I think Johnny and his wife had some arguments, too.”

“What do you think they were arguing about?”

“I guess him not being home much. I’m not sure.” I shrugged. “If I had a spouse, I’m sure it would be an issue. But this is all speculative, of course. Don’t count my words as the truth.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I won’t.” He smirked. “All right, I guess that’s all I need from you now. You’re not going anywhere soon are you?”

“What do you mean?”

He stood and stuffed the notepad back into the pocket of his short-sleeved dress shirt. “I mean you’re not heading out of town for a gig or anything anytime soon.”

“No, not for a couple weeks.” I might have let out an audible gulp.

Heavens, I sure didn’t want to make license plates or whatever else they made in prison for the rest of my life. And I don’t even like bologna or whatever other mystery meat they served in the pen. Was it hotter in here or just me? Didn’t they only ask that kind of question of someone they were suspicious of? Should I be concerned? I’d be singing jailhouse rock if I weren’t careful.

He gave a lopsided grin. “Good. I’ll call you if I have any more questions.”

I was sure he would. There was never a doubt. They always had more questions.

“I’m going to speak with the guys now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course.” I stood. “I’ll go back on stage so you can have this corner. Do you want me to send one of them over?”

“I’d appreciate it, thanks.” He sat again.

The guys would love this. I wondered if the detective would notice Frank’s drunkenness.

“Hey guys.” I strolled over toward them.

My fellow band members sat at the table closest to the stage, the bright light overhead showcasing their many tattoos...and fangs.

“The nice detective there…” I pointed. “…Would like to speak with the two of you.” I wiggled my finger back and forth.

“What for?” Frank leaned back in his chair, the front legs coming off the floor and the back resting against the wall. “We told him everything last night.” He scowled. “Can’t he give somebody a chance to grieve?”

“I’m sure he could, if somebody were grieving.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He leaned his chair forward. Too bad he didn’t fall flat on his ass.

“It means there’s an awful lot of laughing going on over here. I doubt he’ll believe your ‘I'm grieving’ spiel.”

“For your info we were sharing stories about Johnny.”

“You barely knew him. How many stories can you have? Look, Frank, I don’t care what you were doing. Just go answer his damn questions and get it over with. It’s rude.” My gaze never left his. I could stare holes through him just like he tried to do with me. Act tough, I reminded myself. Just like my brother had told me. “Unless you have something to hide?”

“That’s not funny and I’d appreciate it if you’d never say anything like that again.” He jumped up and stormed toward the detective.

I looked at Craig. “What’s his problem?”

Craig shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he needs to get laid.”

“I don’t need to hear that, thanks.” The image would be burned into my brain. Where was brain bleach when I needed it?

I sat on the edge of the stage trying to think good thoughts, but having a difficult time. After several minutes, the front door opened again.

“Hey!” Kitty emerged with Danny in tow. He was like a lost puppy and she held the puppy treats. “I brought you coffee.” She held up the paper cup.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Frank had returned just in time. I was shocked the detective hadn’t arrested him for something. Anything.

I flashed Frank a cross look. “I asked her to bring me coffee since you didn’t give me time to stop. Plus, she likes listening to auditions.” Why did I have to explain anything to him? I think I liked him better when he was drunk. He’d obviously started to sober up.

He huffed. “Fine.” Frank grabbed my arm and pulled me a few steps away. “But did she have to bring him?” He pointed toward Danny. “It’s a little awkward, don’t you think? We’re auditioning for another bass player and we turned him down the last time in favor of Johnny.”

“Hm. Good point.” I paused. “But I can’t ask him to leave now. He’ll have to deal with it and so will you.” I turned and walked away before he had time to utter another stupid sentence. Frank needed one of those shock collars they made for dogs. When he said something moronic, he’d be zapped. He’d get a ton of voltage with his big mouth.

I sat at the table in front of the stage. Little breakfast and little sleep wasn’t doing much for my usually sunny disposition.

Kitty eased into the chair beside me. “What’s a good point? I heard you say ‘good point.’ What’s wrong with Frank this time? Got his pink lace panties in a wad again?” Kitty and her super-duper werewolf hearing. As teenagers, I recruited her to eavesdrop on my parents. Fun times.

“Oh, nothing. He’s just blabbing as usual.” I looked at Danny. “Hey, Danny, how’s it going?”

“Not bad.” He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

Now Frank had planted the idea in my head and I felt sorry for the guy. Danny wasn’t a good bass player and this had to reaffirm that for him. We’d turned him down in favor of Johnny, but the guy seemed out of it most of the time, anyway, so I never knew for sure if it really bothered him. As if he was never quite sure what we were talking about, never quite able to decode our conversations. Like he hadn’t been eating the right cereal to get a secret decoder ring.

“You gonna stay and listen?” I winked at Kitty and tilted my head in Danny’s direction when he wasn’t watching.

“Sure, why not?” She smiled and leaned back in her chair.

My wink went right over her head. I needed a billboard to get her attention. Apparently it never crossed her mind to take Danny away to spare his feelings.

“Hey, come to the bathroom with me.” I stood.

“Huh,” she said. I grabbed her arm and pulled her away before she had a chance to protest. “What are you going to do in the bathroom?”

“Um, use the bathroom. We’ll be back in a sec, Danny,” I said over my shoulder.

He nodded and pulled out a chair. Not much of a talker.

“What are you doing?” Kitty asked when we entered the ladies’ room.

“Don’t you think it’s awkward to have Danny here for auditions when we turned him down?”

“It’s cool.” She waved a dismissive hand. “He’s all right with it.”

“Are you sure?” I frowned.

“Trust me, he’s moved on. In fact, he has a gig lined up already. They’re practicing hard and already have one show planned.”

“Oh, Kitty, that’s great. I was worried. I’m just glad there are no hard feelings.”

“No hard feelings. Like I said, everything’s cool. Danny’s a sweet guy, just quiet, that’s all.”

I opened the door. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. I’m sure Danny’s a sweet guy. Maybe he’ll break out of his shell and feel more comfortable with talking.”

“I’m sure he’ll eventually come around.” Kitty pulled my arm back. “Aren’t you going to the bathroom?”

I stared. “Nope.”

“Oh.” The light bulb went off. Still dim, but it went off.

She may not catch on quickly, but she was the best friend I could ever ask for. She helped me and I helped her. We’d been best friends since high school. We’d bonded over music, tattoos, and boys. Plus, there weren’t a lot of others like us in our high school—the half-ass witch and the werewolf. We were the ones at the table in the corner of the school cafeteria, right next to the so-called band geeks. The table all the cool kids walked past and made fun of.

“Oh, you just wanted to talk without Danny hearing, huh?” She giggled.

I stifled a laugh. “You got it, Sweetie. C’mon, let’s get back out there.” She followed me back to the stage.

The front door opened and we all turned to see who’d entered. He walked in and my mouth dropped.

Chapter 11

I hadn’t intended on that reaction, but it was beyond my control. His good looks would make anyone lose brain function.

“I’m here about the bass player. You need one?” He stood in front of Kitty and me. His voice smooth like melted chocolate.

I nodded, still unable to speak. It was like being thirteen-years-old all over again.

He smiled, exposing dimples on each cheek. No fangs that I saw. Was he human? Maybe I should’ve lifted his lips and checked for fangs, kind of like inspecting a horse’s mouth—perhaps used my tongue for that examination. What was wrong with me? Someone needed to toss me in a cold shower. Pronto.

Where had this delicious hunk of man come from?

“You’re so in trouble. Look at those biceps,” Kitty whispered.

“I see. I see.” I waved a hand to shut her up.

“He is so fine,” she said.

Good thing Kitty was sitting. She was practically swooning. And Kitty didn’t swoon over just anyone.

“Who’s he?” I looked at Frank. I still couldn’t talk to the stranger.

He shrugged. “I don’t know the guy.”

“He’s not one of yours?”

“No. Never seen him.” Frank frowned.

I turned and faced the mystery hunk again. Finally my voice worked, a little shaky, but it worked.

“You want to jump on stage and show us what you got?” Oh, wrong choice of words. I pictured him on stage—literally showing us what he had.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He walked toward the stage stairs, swaggered past, and gave me a big grin.

His spicy scent tickled my nostrils in his wake. Once Kitty finally stopped undressing the new guy with her eyes, we exchanged glances.

“Is he that hot guy you wrote a song about?” Kitty asked around a sigh.

“What are you talking about? I don’t write songs about anyone in particular. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Oh, no? You could have fooled me. The lyrics say ‘He walked in and stole my heart.’ And I’m thinking that’s exactly what just happened. It’s like you’re psychic.” She laughed.

I froze. She had no idea. I still hadn’t had a chance to tell her about the visions and dreams.