Cole snapped awake the next morning to pounding on the door and a woman’s voice with a strong Brazilian accent calling out, “Mr. Jackson, Mr. Jackson, please open the door.”
Not understanding what the fuss was about, he quickly pulled on his jeans and T-shirt from yesterday, combed his hands through his hair and opened the door to a frantic looking young maid. She grabbed his arm with surprising strength and pulled him forward. “Please come quick. Mr. Macleod. Something is wrong, he no wake up.”
In that instant Cole realized the popular saying, “my heart stopped” was not just an expression. Pulling away from the maid he ran like hell down the hall to AJ’s room. The door stood ajar and several hotel security guards graced the inside. Cole crossed the threshold, his hand on his pounding heart as he scanned the room, his eyes coming to rest on the figure on the bed. Oh God. He didn’t have to get closer to know AJ was dead. Cole could smell death. The strong pungent smell of body fluids and waste hung in the air. He swallowed the bile trying to force its way up his throat while he stood there mesmerized by AJ’s dead body. Death was not a pretty sight, nor was there any pride.
Cole suddenly felt old, tired and numb. AJ—his best friend—dead. It didn’t seem possible. How? Why?
“Excuse me, everybody out,” bellowed a plain clothes detective as he came into the room with two uniform officers and a man carrying a medical examiners bag.
Cole left the room on legs so unsteady they could have belonged to a ten-month-old baby wobbling along, taking his first steps. When he reached the hallway, he collapsed to the ground and sat stunned as silent tears streamed down his face. He waited and waited as people in law enforcement came and went. He stared at a dark spot on the wall for what seemed like an eternity. After a time the detective he saw earlier approached him.
“Mr. Jackson?”
Cole climbed to his feet but leaned heavily against the wall for support. He didn’t trust his legs just yet.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Jackson, I’m Detective Silver. I’m sorry, but Mr. Macleod is dead,” the detective said flatly.
“I know.”
“Would you mind notifying his family? I think it would be better coming from someone close to them.”
Jesus, Cole closed his eyes and hoped to God when he opened them he would be lying in bed, and this would all be a dream. There was no way AJ was dead. But when he slowly opened his eyes, nothing had changed. The harsh looking detective still stood there waiting for an answer to his question, and AJ was still dead. Cole cleared his throat, coughed and finally answered the detective. “Yes. How... how did he die?”
“It’s too soon to tell. Once an autopsy’s done we’ll know for certain. But it appears to be a suicide by sleeping pills.”
Oh God, his knees buckled, and he crumpled back to the ground. He could not breathe as claws gripped his lungs and his heart pounded toward fatal speed. Burying his face in his hands, he fought the sobs bubbling up and fighting their way out.
“Was… was there a note?” He forced the words out, and after he said them he thought what a stupid question. But then again, most suicide victims left notes.
“No. However he recorded a video.”
Cole’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I just watched it. And there’s something you should know. It pertains directly to you.”
Cole groped the wall with his hands as he stood up, locking his knees in hopes they wouldn’t give way again. “How so,” he asked, trying not to picture AJ swallowing pills and lying dead in bed in his own body waste not thirty feet from him. Guilt pounded him like a runaway freight train. He knew something was bothering AJ, and he had tried to talk to him, but shit, obviously not hard enough.
“I shouldn’t tell you this, but before there’s media frenzy, which I’m certain there will be, I think you should know it was a confession and an apology.”
Cole took a steady breath, not knowing if he wanted to hear this. “I don’t understand.”
The detective looked right at him, sympathy radiating from the same eyes that appeared hard earlier. “Macleod confessed to killing your wife.”
Cole closed his eyes and leaned even harder against the wall. His whole body convulsed and his heart pounded so loudly it caused severe pain inside his head. He knew if he moved even an inch his head would explode. What nightmare had he woken up in? This couldn’t be right? Couldn’t be real?
“AJ loved Lindsey. I don’t understand,” he choked out, feeling confused and sad and hurt. If it’s true, his best friend killed his wife and let him take the blame. Let him go to jail. He didn’t want it to be true, and he wouldn’t believe it until he saw AJ’s confession himself. And even then, he didn’t know if he’d believe it. Not in AJ’s nature.
“Can I see the video?”
“Yes. You’ll have to come to the station house. I’m almost done here. I’ll drive you.”
“Th...Thanks,” Cole mumbled.
Several minutes later the detective came out of AJ’s room with a small blue camera in a plastic bag. Cole followed him in a mind numbing haze.
“Mr. Jackson, why don’t we stop by your room so you can get your shoes?”
Cole glanced down at his bare feet. Christ, he would have walked out of the hotel barefoot and being as numb as he was, he never would have noticed.
The ride to the station house took less than ten minutes. It was the longest ten minutes of Cole’s life. He stared, unseeing out the car window, everything blurring together as if a painter regretted his painting or possibly hated it and took his brush, swirling it across the canvas, washing all the colors and images together. Nothing was in focus. Cole couldn’t concentrate, or was it his brain protecting him from the devastating reality around him?
When they arrived at the station, he stumbled out of the car and blindly followed Detective Silver into the station house to a small room with a laptop, a gray metal table and two metal chairs, unaware of the stares and hushed talk going on around him.
The Detective plugged in the camera, turned the computer screen toward him and left the room to give him privacy. Cole watched as AJ’s face appeared larger than life on the screen. His breathing became choppier and choppier as he fought not to sob, but it was no use. He buried his head in his hands, and as his whole body shook, he cried out in anguish. “Damn you, AJ. I would have forgiven you. You didn’t have to take your life. I loved you, man.” Then the rage boiled up and exploded. Cole began throwing and pounding everything in sight until Detective Silver came back in with several officers to restrain him. Cole could do nothing, think about nothing as numbness took over, and he buried his head once again in his hands.
“Shannon,” Mitch yelled up the stairs, “come quickly. Cole’s on the Marlene Simpson Show.”
“What,” she yelled as she descended the stairs in a hurry, her feet barely touching the steps as her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. “Did I hear you right?”
She slid onto the couch, eyes glued to the television. Sure enough, it was Cole. Her heart jumped at the sight of him. He was so gorgeous her breath escaped her lungs in one quick swoop. How could she have forgotten the effect he had on her? She clasped her shaky hands together and lost herself in the show, her attention never wavering until a commercial. Then she looked at Mitch, pride as well as tears in her eyes.
“I can’t believe he gave an interview. He said nothing when I spoke with him.” She sucked in air as the commercial ended and Cole’s face took over the screen again. She had heard most of what he and Marlene discussed before from Cole, yet she was still moved greatly by what he’d gone through. And horrified about how cruelly some people treated him. And she couldn’t believe he broke his silence about Lindsey’s death. Incredible as it seemed, he was the one to bring it up.
By the time the interview ended, she could barely breathe her emotions were running so high, never mind her feelings of love for him. She kept reminding herself that he would be here today. Tonight they could hold each other and make love and finally look to the future together.
Just as Mitch was about to hit the off button, a live broadcast from a local Boston station broke in. Shannon and Mitch sat stunned as they listened to the reporter tell the news of AJ Macleod’s death by suicide. The woman reporter read from AJ’s quote as the words appeared on the screen. They broadcast everything AJ said in his suicide video for the entire world to hear and read.
Shannon sat motionlessly, shocked by it. Mitch sat beside her and pulled her into his arms for comfort and silent support.
Oh my God! What was Cole going through? Where was he? The reporter said Cole knew about AJ’s death and had watched the video. He also had been in AJ’s hotel room and identified the body. Shannon clutched her heart as pain pierced through it. Cole must be brokenhearted to find out it was his best friend who had murdered his wife. Would life ever stop throwing curves in the path of his happiness? Yes, the world would finally know he was innocent, but still the cost to him was high.
Shannon knew he would still take the blame on himself for Lindsey’s death, anyway. And he would definitely feel responsible for AJ’s death. A thought suddenly occurred to her. Was he still on his way? She doubted it. He now had AJ’s death to deal with, and Cole would make all the arrangements. He would not leave his best friend and bandmate in death regardless of the horrendous circumstances, regardless of the betrayal, the deceit and the open lies. Even with the years stolen from him, he would honor his friend in death.
She breathed deeply and sighed loudly as she wiped away her tears with her trembling fingers. She loved Cole so much, and she admired him for his loyalty and compassion and love. If the circumstances were reversed, could she be as caring as Cole?
“Mitch, please find me the phone? I need to call him.” Her voice sounded hollow, distant and strange, as though coming from inside a deep, dark cave echoing off rock walls trying to find the opening to freedom, to sunlight and life.
Shannon hugged herself and rocked back and forth. There was so much pain in her life right now and she was hurting badly, hurting for herself, for Cole and for AJ’s family back in Scotland, but most of all she hurt for her missing son. She needed her son. She needed to see him, touch him and reassure herself that he still lived.
Mitch handed her the phone, and the concern and love pouring from his eyes helped steady her and allow her to make the call. She really didn’t want to reach out to Cole on the phone. It was too impersonal, too sterile. She wanted to reach out in person so she could physically comfort him by wrapping her body around his and offering solace. But she’d call him and do what she could with the distance of miles between them—miles upon cold, lonely and needy miles.
She received his voice mail. Damn. “Cole, I just heard. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I love you. Call me.”
Less than five minutes went by before the phone rang, and she jumped as she still held the receiver cradled in her hand. She read the caller ID and her heart stopped. It was Cole.
“Hi.” She held her breath, waiting for his voice.
“Hey,” he said, sounding tired and numb.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of him exhaling came through the phone. “Not really, things are bad. As bad as they can get.” As he spoke, his voice lowered. “I can’t get the image of Lindsey’s lifeless body out of my mind or the image of AJ lying dead in the hotel bed. It was awful.” He cleared his throat. “I can’t get the smell out of my nose. It’s the second time I’ve witnessed death, smelled death. And it’s two times too many.”
He paused, and she heard him sob. “Oh, Shannon, I can’t believe what’s happening. It seems surreal. I keep expecting to wake up and I’ll be twenty-three again, before Lindsey’s death, before any of the other nightmarish stuff happened.”
She didn’t know what to say and her heart ached for him. Her whole body burned in pain for him. “Oh, Cole,” she whispered.
“I called Elizabeth, AJ’s wife and broke the news. Without a doubt it was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. She’s devastated. I don’t know what she’ll tell their children. Christ, they’re so young, only five, eight and ten. How will this affect their lives?” he groaned out in despair. “The only good thing is they are isolated in the Highlands, but I’m sure the media will still find them and make a mockery of this.”
“You watched the video?” It wasn’t necessarily a question. She already knew the answer but felt compelled to ask.
“Yeah, it was awful. AJ looked and sounded terrible, not like him at all. It’s no wonder, he was confessing to murdering Lindsey and planning his own demise. Shit, he filmed his own death.” He paused, and she heard him fighting for control, for air. “I watched him die. Right there in front of my eyes, and I knew the second it happened. There are no words to describe watching death happen. And I tried not to watch, hell I tried, I really tried, but I couldn’t help it. And even though I know it to be true, I’m having a hard time dealing with it, accepting it, understanding it. No one had their head screwed on straighter and tighter than AJ.”
She heard what sounded like someone smack their forehead. “I’m not sure I’m capable of dealing with it now. Nor am I feeling much of anything but shock. I feel like my life is not my own. I’m watching it happen from the sidelines, and I have no control over anything.”
Shannon’s throat burned, and her lungs ached as she tried to breathe. Hearing him like this tortured her to no end. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and take his pain and anguish away. But even if she could take it away for a time, he would eventually have to face it and go on. She could be a much needed salve for his hurt, but it would only be temporary.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“I’m sorry I can’t come to you today. I know you’re frantic with worry about Cameron and so am I, but I owe it to AJ and his family to accompany his body to Scotland and see him buried. It won’t be for several days, until the autopsy report is complete and they release his body. Meanwhile, I’m staying here.” His voice sounded hollow, defeated and foreign to her ears. “My lawyer’s trying to speed up the legal paperwork involved in clearing my name so I can get a passport. I’m not sending AJ home alone. I could not attend Lindsey’s service, and it’s something that will always plague me, but I’ll be damned if I’ll miss AJ’s. We’re all going. The whole band, that is.” He paused and drew air. “I’d ask you to come, but I know you can’t. Your responsibility is to your son.” He cleared his throat. “Any news?” he asked.
She told him what she knew. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high, but I can’t help it. I just want him home so I can hold him again, touch him again, and tell him I love him.”
She sniffled and coughed. “In my heart I know it will be okay. But my imaginative mind is wreaking havoc on me, tormenting me, haunting me.”
“He’ll be fine. He’s smart and resourceful. He’ll come home soon,” Cole said with more emotion in his voice than she’d heard during the whole depressing conversation.
Shannon hoped there was truth in his words. All she had left was hope and faith. “You were something else on the Marlene Simpson show. You handled yourself incredibly, so professional and suave, and then I heard the news...”
“Great timing, huh?” he interrupted. “I’m glad I did it and Marlene is quite a lady. I have great respect for her. She’s a woman of her word.”
“Will you be coming right back after the burial?” Something inside her panicked as she waited for his answer. Waited to hear if her heart, her future and her happiness were at stake.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t think beyond burying AJ. Elizabeth might need me. Although I doubt it with her family nearby, not to mention I’m a stranger to her.”
“I need you,” she choked out, and her heart lodged up into her throat as she waited through the silence.
“God, I need you too,” he groaned out. “I miss you. I can’t wait to see you, hold you and know you’re real. You’re the one real thing woven into my unreal world. I’ll call every day and promise me you’ll be okay. I’m so worried about you and Cameron. I wish I could make it all better. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s we’re all just passengers in this thing called life. Our destinies are predetermined. And if God has any love or compassion in him at all, you and I are each other’s destiny. We’ll be together and soon.”
Shannon couldn’t contain her tears or her sobs any longer. When she could trust herself to speak again, she said, “When did you become so wise?”
He snorted. “I’m not wise, just trying to be a realist. And don’t forget I’m good with words and expressing my feelings through them. It’s about the only way I know how.”
“That’s not true,” she said, lightening the mood. “I seem to recall spending two days with you. Two wonderful days spent together, and you expressed yourself in many other ways. Good ways.” She paused and sighed as she remembered the feel of him against her body, inside her. “I miss you. It seems forever since I’ve seen you.”
“Shit. I don’t want to go. Promise me you’ll never doubt my love for you?”
“I’ll try not to. Never doubt mine for you,” she cried into the phone then disconnected.
A long time passed before she felt composed enough to look at her brother who had just re-entered the room. Her brother, always a gentleman. Leaving the room to give her privacy. If that Texas lady knew what was good for her, she had better reach out and hold tight to him. He was rare, as rare a man as her Cole.
Once she calmed down, she punched in the number for Kevin English. She hadn’t spoken with him in a few days, and she needed to bring him up to speed on Cameron.
“Kevin English.”
“K ... Kevin, hi, it’s me.”
“Shannon, how are you?”
Shannon took a deep breath and fought the tears stinging her eyes. She would not cry into the phone. She’d just cried into Cole’s ear and enough. “I’ve been better, but I have some new developments on Cameron.” She told Kevin all about them.
“Like I said before, if you need me, I’m here. Just say the word, and I’m on the next plane out,” Kevin replied with his gentle, soothing voice.
“No. Stay where you are. There really isn’t anything you can do here. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Okay, sweetie, anything you say. Love you and try not to agonize over this too much.”
Shannon snorted into the phone. “Yeah, I’ll try. Bye. Love you too.”
For the second morning in a row, Cameron woke up naked in bed with an equally naked Amber. Only today they were checking out and hoping to hitch a ride to the nearest bus station and purchase tickets to continue on to California. He had to keep focusing on California because if he didn’t, homesickness took over in suffocating waves. He missed his mom, and if he wanted to be honest, he also missed his dad.
He and his dad had said some awful, hurtful things to one another, and since Cameron had meant nothing he said perhaps the same thing pertained to what his dad said to him.
He also missed Matt, Heather and Taylor and Cheryl. But most of all he missed his mom. She was all alone without him, and he felt terrible having left her. What must she be feeling? Awful he imagined. And today his heart lay heavy with longing for everything familiar, even school. He missed school and his friends. He missed the ocean, the smell of saltwater and the feel of the sand between his toes. He wanted to hear the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach late at night from his bed.
But most of all, he felt guilty for what his running away was probably doing to everyone. Maybe he should go back and convince Amber to return. He imagined her dad was franticly missing her, especially since her mother had died recently.
They could see each other when he got his license. He could drive to Newport. It only took a little over an hour to get there. Heck, that was nothing. Put some good tunes on the stereo and off he’d go. A little Jason Aldean, some Eric Church and a little rock-and-roll from BlackJack and he’d be good to go for miles upon miles.
He knew what he had to do. He had to convince Amber because if he couldn’t convince her to go with him, he’d be dammed if he’d let her travel alone. So if he wanted to go home, he’d have to be persuasive.
Cameron rolled onto his side, resting up on one elbow as he faced her, and his stomach took a tumble. He would miss waking up with her. And the sex, hell, he would miss that too.
Maybe he’d get himself a girlfriend when he got home. Perhaps Lacey Paranello would be his girlfriend. She was in some of his classes and she was hot. There was, however, one major problem. Lacey didn’t know he existed, never mind the fact that she dated a senior and not just any senior, the captain of the hockey team, and everyone knew he was destined to go pro after playing for a division one college. Hell, he’d probably suit up in maroon and gold and play for the Boston College Eagles or maybe red and white for the Boston University Terriers, or even the Northeastern Huskies. One of the bean pot teams would probably recruit him, they would be crazy not to and when they did, what would Lacey see in him? Her boyfriend would head to play hockey for a division one school and what would he be doing? Still be in high school. Oh well, if Lacey wasn’t interested there were other fine girls in school besides her. The problem was he’d wanted Lacey since seventh grade.
He focused back on Amber. Too bad she didn’t go to his school. They would have each other. He reached out and combed his fingers through her soft hair, her thick, long and exotically dark hair. He tried to picture her as a natural blonde which she was, and he knew she would be even prettier as a blonde. She had taken all the rings out of her nose and eyebrows. That left several in each ear and her belly button. And Cameron had to admit the belly button being pierced and sporting a silver rod was sexy as hell. If he hadn’t already been sporting a bona, he would have then.
She fluttered her eyes open and slowly smiled at him.
“Morning,” he murmured.
She stretched and curled into him. “Morning yourself. What time do we have to check out?”
“Not for two hours,” he replied.
She smiled a smile Cameron was knowing well. It was shy, sexy and sweet, but it meant she wanted sex and his body hardened even more just watching that smile cross her lips.
A little while later as they lay on the bed sweating and breathing heavily, Cameron went for it and told her his plan. She let him speak his mind without interrupting, but he knew she wasn’t keen ongoing home.
“I’m not going back, you can,” she stated like it was no big deal. “I’ll be fine, but I can’t go home, not yet anyway.”
“Why not,” he countered.
Amber sat up and hugged her knees to herself. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to. My dad probably doesn’t even know I’m gone.”
Cameron saw the tears pooling in her eyes, and he knew she missed home as much as he did, but she was one stubborn girl. “I’m sure your dad knows you’re gone, and I bet he’s worried sick. He’s probably out looking for you right now.”
She glanced at him, her lips quivering and tears in her sad, but hopeful eyes, and he knew he had her. He only hoped her dad really missed her so she didn’t just run away again. “Please go back with me?” Cameron pleaded, his voice vibrating and his eyes beginning to tear.
“Okay.”
He hugged her close. “Good. Let’s get going. We need to hitch a ride to the nearest bus station.”
Thirty minutes later they were out on the street with all their gear and Amber had her thumb out whenever a car or truck went by, which wasn’t often. Finally, a trucker driving an eighteen wheeler pulled over. “Where ya’ll going?” asked the large, bald man with a southern drawl and a warm smile.
“The bus station,” replied Amber.
“Hop in. I’ll give you a lift.”
He seemed friendly enough Cameron thought as the man drove and talked and he and Amber mostly listened. They pulled onto a highway crowded with truckers hauling everything from livestock to humongous logs. Welcome to the Midwest.
Even though the man had seemed nice, Cameron felt instant relief when they arrived at the bus station. Unfortunately, they had to wait until six that night for a bus. Cameron purchased their tickets. He figured it was because he was sick that they got off the bus in the first place, so he owed her.
They sat on the cleanest bench they could find and snacked on food from the vending machines and watched the one grimy television in the station. They were watching some game show when a news reporter interrupted and Cameron sat, frozen, his heart lodged in his throat.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing or seeing. There were three pictures on the screen, AJ, Cole and someone he presumed to be Cole’s dead wife.
AJ was dead. He committed suicide. He killed Lindsey.
“Hey, isn’t that members of BlackJack?” Amber asked, pointing to the television.
Cameron swallowed and cleared his suddenly dry and burning throat. “Yeah.”
“How awful.”
“Yeah.” What else could he say? And now more than ever he was glad he was going back home. Six o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
They boarded the bus, sitting in the back. It was nearly empty. Cameron hadn’t played his guitar in several days and he craved it. He wanted to play in tribute to AJ because if it wasn’t for him, he never would’ve played at the Garden with them, nor would his mom have met Cole.
He played as quietly so no one would complain. He played every BlackJack song he could remember. Amber’s eyes fluttered closed beside him, but he didn’t think she was sleeping. She was chilling out to his music, so he continued playing. He even played the new stuff he and Cole wrote together.
By the time darkness descended all around them, Cameron looked out the window and saw fog so thick he contemplated how the driver could see anything in the blanket surrounding them. He went back to playing. It helped pass the time, playing always made him feel better. He played his heart and soul out on his guitar, and when his fingers were numb and his arms ached, he continued to play. Much later, he put his guitar back into its case, put his arm around Amber’s shoulders, pulling her close, and drifted off to sleep. Sleep plagued with visions of AJ and Cole and his mom. His dreams replayed the day they all met, the day he played at the Garden, one of the best days of his life.
Something, a noise, a screeching, metal against metal, struggled to pull him out of his dream. Yelling and screaming and someone shakes him pulled him out completely.
“Cameron, we’re crashing,” Amber screamed in complete terror.
Next thing he knew he crashed into the seat in front of him then he tumbled toward the opposite side of the bus. He saw, or at least he thought he saw, Amber’s head crash into the window. He tried crawling toward her, but the bus was sliding on its side. The noise was deafening; it sounded as though a freight train screamed through his head. Sparks flew everywhere, and when the bus finally stopped moving, pain exploded throughout his body. All around him people were crying, and he thought of Amber. He struggled to get up but something heavy had him pinned down. Black swirls blurred his eyes, and the world tilted. He closed his eyes shut, trying to fight the inevitable pull into darkness. His heart slowed and parts of his life flashed before his eyes. Was he dying? He didn’t think so, but still he didn’t feel right either. Exhaustion and weakness washed over him as he faded. He prayed to God because he didn’t want to die, not now.