Officers swarmed into the supply room. Voices and radio static filled my head. My mind and body were beyond numb.
Wendell helped me to my feet and out to the huge hallway.
I hugged him hard, feeling the rock solidness of his muscles. “I’m so sorry I ran from you. I thought …”
“I know.” He tried to smile. “I look like a bad guy. What can I say?”
So much commotion around me. I started to shake. The hotel manager ushered me and Wendell into his office, away from the noise. I sank down on a small couch and stared at my bare feet.
Wendell left and returned with my flip-flops.
A female officer, fearing I was near fainting, brought me a yogurt smoothie. I managed to drink half of it.
When my mind cleared enough to think a little, I asked if I could use the manager’s phone. I called Brittany and told her what happened. Except for one very important detail.
Someone phoned Mom, and she came racing over with Mick. Didn’t even wait for a limo, just demanded that some local stagehand drive them. By the time she arrived, it was six p.m. The concert was supposed to start at eight with the warm-up band. Rayne was taking the stage at nine.
Mom rushed into the manager’s office and swept me into her arms. “Shaley, Shaley!” She stroked my hair. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
We held each other and cried until our tears ran out.
“You have to go and get ready,” I told her. “The concert …”
“I don’t care about the concert. I’m not leaving you.”
We sat in silence, fingers laced.
Your father sent me. Inside me the words thrashed and rolled.
I wiped tears from my face. My head throbbed. “I miss Bruce and Tom. I can’t believe they’re dead.”
I missed Jerry too. The Jerry I used to know.
Mom pulled in a deep breath. “I can’t believe any of this either.” She squeezed my leg. “But it’s over now. It’s all over.”
No, it wasn’t.
Your father sent me.
Twice I almost told her Jerry’s dying words. But I couldn’t.
Of course I should have. She should know, as well as the police. But the words burrowed too deep down inside me. I couldn’t bring them to my mouth, much less hear myself utter them. Shame, rage, confusion, grief … all those emotions kicked through my chest as I clung to my mother. Part of me wanted to shake her for her secrets. But I could feel her deep love for me, and the anger wouldn’t stick. Because, no matter what, I needed her so very much.
Besides, what if Jerry wasn’t even telling the truth? He’d obviously been thinking crazy things. In his warped way of “protecting” me, did he think the best last words he could say were to give me hope about my father?
But how did he even know I wanted that hope?
Anyway, why should Jerry think his words were good news? My father sent a killer into my life. Wonderful. Did the man hate me?
At 6:30 Mom’s cell phone rang. I could hear Ross’s voice as they talked. He was worried about me. She told him I was okay.
“Look, Rayne,” he said, “I have to make a decision by seven thirty whether we have a concert tonight.”
“Okay. Whatever.” Mom rubbed a hand across her forehead. “I just know I’m not leaving Shaley.”
A plainclothes detective came and questioned me. He was a small man, gray-haired and craggy-faced. Looked like he’d seen a lot of hard things in life. I told him everything I could remember — except for Jerry’s last words. Apparently Wendell or the police officer had reported that Jerry whispered something to me in his final moments.
“What did he say?” The detective asked.
Mom’s hand on my arm felt protective and warm. I looked into her eyes. They glistened with love for me.
Lowering my gaze, I shook my head. “Nothing important.”
Shortly after seven, the interview was over.
The detective stood. “Thank you, Shaley. You’re a very brave young lady.”
Brave? I almost laughed.
Mom put her arm around my shoulder. “Finally, you can go to your room and rest. I’ll stay with you. With Wendell and Mick posted outside the door.”
I shook my head. “You’ve got a concert tonight.”
“We’ll cancel it, Shaley. I’m not leaving you.”
“You won’t have to. I’ll be backstage, listening to every song.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. She pushed a strand of hair off my cheek. “I couldn’t sing tonight even if I wanted to. Not after almost losing you.”
My lips curved. “Of course you can. You’re Rayne O’Connor. And Rayne reigns.”
She managed a wan smile. “Thanks. But really —”
“Really, you will.” I took her hand. “Come on. Let’s get to the arena.”