I held onto Sin as soon as he got up. I knew after that outburst from Chad that he’d be weakened. It wasn’t until we got out of the apartment that he put his arm around me and really leaned.

I could handle his weight, but I wasn’t sure what would happen if he passed out again. “You okay to go down these stairs?”

“Yeah.”

He was pale, and sweat beaded on his top lip. I kept a good grip on him as we went down each step, thankful for the extra strength I had. Otherwise, I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to hold him up.

Every step made the resentment in me grow. I got that Chad hadn’t taken over Sin on purpose, just like I understood that he didn’t know how to leave, either. What had happened to him was a great injustice. But Sin was my first priority.

I was so glad when we were back in the car. I looked at him from the driver’s seat. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it all. I’m worried about you.”

He nodded. “I’m not crazy about it either.”

“What do you need? A drink? Food? Just to rest?”

“Rest. And some calories.”

“You got it. What do you want to eat?”

“I don’t care. Something from the café will be fine. Soup. Sandwich. Whatever.”

I started the car and headed for the RV park. “You sleep. I’ll get you some food when we get there.”

And then, when Sin was asleep in bed, I’d do a little more investigating on my own. There was no reason I couldn’t go see LeClaire myself.

Forty-five minutes later, we were back at the RV. Sin had slept the whole way home. While he changed and got into bed, I went to the café for food. As promised, I texted him the lunch special, which was fried chicken with mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, and cornbread. He sent me a thumbs-up.

I ordered two specials to go. Shelby got it all packaged up. I paid with my credit card and took the food back to the RV. Sin was in bed but not asleep. I think he probably had been until he’d heard me come in.

I got him a fork and a drink and gave him his to-go container of food, then grabbed a Dr Pepper for myself and sat beside him. He had a cooking show on the bedroom television.

I let him eat for a bit without saying anything. I wanted to be sure he stayed awake long enough to replenish his body. The food was good. So far everything we’d had from the café had been. I kept an eye on him while I ate. Sugar and Spider sat at the end of the bed watching like furry little hawks.

That probably had more to do with the fried chicken than their concern about Sinclair.

“Mama, Spider loves Chicken Party.”

“I know you do, but this isn’t Chicken Party. This is fried chicken for people.”

“Mama, chicken for Spider, too.”

“And Sugar,” Sugar chimed in. “Sugar and Spider are peoples.”

“A pretty convincing argument.” Sin laughed and looked at me. “How can you say no to them?”

“Um, because I don’t want greasy chicken on the comforter?” I sighed and got up. “Come on, you two hooligans. In the kitchen and I’ll get a few pieces of meat off for you.”

“Wait,” Sin said. “I’m done. You can give them some of mine too.”

I took his container. “All right.”

I carried the leftovers to the counter and pulled off enough pieces of meat to make up two small dishes for our very spoiled felines. I placed the dishes on their feeding mat and let them have it. Wasn’t like they didn’t have food. They did. They just wanted ours.

I washed my hands and went to see if Sin needed anything else. This time, he was out cold and snoring softly. I lowered the volume on the TV but left it on to drown any outside noise. RV parks could be noisy during the day.

I wrote him a note telling him I was going out to talk to LeClaire, if possible, and that I’d be home as soon as I could. Also, if he needed anything, he should text me. And that I loved him more than anything. I grabbed my purse, a cold Dr Pepper for the road and left, making sure to lock the door behind me.

I programmed the GPS for the address on LeClaire’s report that Birdie had pulled and since emailed to me. It was twenty-five minutes away. While I drove, I listened to the radio but mostly tried not to freak out about how Chad’s presence was affecting Sin.

Finding Chad’s killer was the only thing I could do to help.

LeClaire lived in a condo in an old, converted building not too far from downtown and the Nissan Stadium. It was a nice area. Before I got out of the car, I did a quick search on my phone of real estate in the area. There was a condo in her building for sale for two million dollars.

Either piano teachers made more than I realized or LeClaire had another source of income. Maybe she’d inherited some money? Or won the lottery? I was super curious.

I got out and went into the small lobby. It was glass, steel, red brick, and cream-colored marble. Two palms in concrete containers flanked the doors. Industrial chic, I guess. I pressed the button with Tillis listed next to it.

“Hello?”

“LeClaire?”

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“Jayne Frost. You don’t know me, but I’m looking into the death of Chad Montgomery. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

“Hold your ID up to the camera.”

I hadn’t even seen a camera. I dug my license out, then looked around. About a foot over my head was a black fisheye lens capped with a clear acrylic dome. I held the license up.

A few seconds of silence, then, “Elevator’s unlocked. Fourth floor.”

I rode up and stepped out directly into her condo. It was bright and airy and very modern but warmer than I’d expected. Pale wood floors, white accents, lots of windows, and the exterior walls of red brick made a nice backdrop for the sleek furniture and antique Persian rugs. The place smelled like money.

Even the exposed ductwork added a certain loft vibe. And in one corner sat a gleaming black baby grand piano. I hoped the moving men who had hauled that thing up here got a good tip.

LeClaire stood near the piano. “Hello.”

“Hi. I’m Jayne. Obviously.” I smiled. “Beautiful place. Have you lived here long?”

She nodded. “Nearly ten years.” Her tone was cold and standoffish. I got it. She didn’t know me. I was lucky she’d even allowed me to come up. “Why are you looking into Chad’s death? Are you a private investigator?”

I took a few steps into the living room but didn’t sit. She was standing, and she hadn’t invited me to do otherwise. “No, but you could say my husband and I are sort of amateur detectives. He’s a big Elvis fan, as in the real Elvis, and when he heard about Chad and Big Elvis the performer and his murder being unsolved …” I shrugged. “We thought we’d do a little digging and see what we could find out. That probably sounds weird, huh?”

She gave a subtle shake of her head. “Not that weird. There were some people who covered it in a podcast last year. They didn’t find anything new.”

“Do you remember the name of it?”

“Unsolved Music Murders.”

“Thanks.” I made a mental note to look that show up. “You knew Chad pretty well, didn’t you?”

“I did.” She nodded, arms going around her waist as her gaze grew distant. “He was a good friend. And a real comfort to me after my husband passed. Even helped me make some investment decisions with the money I inherited.”

“I’m sorry about your husband.” That explained the condo.

A quick smile, then she dropped her arms to her sides. “Would you like a cup of tea? I was just going to make one for myself.”

I put my hand on my belly. “I can’t have caffeine.”

Her smile returned. “Congratulations. I have some peppermint tea. Would you like that?”

“Sounds great, thank you.”

“Come into the kitchen with me.”

I followed her. The kitchen was all white and stainless steel with a backsplash of wine corks. She filled a kettle with water, then plugged it in and turned it on.

She gestured to the stools at the counter. “Have a seat. What do you want to know about him?”

I climbed onto one of the stools. “Did he have any enemies? Anyone who’d want him dead?”

She got cups out of a cabinet. “People loved Chad, and he loved people. He was a generous guy. Very giving with his time and talents. His money, too.”

“So he did all right as Big Elvis then?”

She took boxes of tea from another cabinet. “He did. Private gigs were his big money. Those could really command a good sum. You know a company flew him to South Dakota once to perform at their convention? But North Forty provided him with a very steady income. Especially as his popularity grew. You knew he worked at North Forty, right?”

“I did. In fact, my husband and I were just there last night.”

LeClaire’s eyes narrowed as steam started to waft from the kettle’s spout. “Last night was Thursday. Elvis Karaoke. Do you also know about his rivalry with Johnny Lee Dixon then? He’s the man who would have been the emcee last night.”

I nodded. “We do. We’ve spoken to him. And Bethann—”

“Pfft.” LeClaire spat air out of her mouth. “Those two.” She frowned. “I don’t like either of them. Of course, Bethann always thought I was trying to get into Chad’s pants. Pretty ironic when you know she was the one being unfaithful.” LeClaire leaned toward me slightly. “With Johnny Lee, of all people.”

“We know that too. And about how Bethann’s daughter is actually Johnny Lee’s.”

LeClaire’s eyes widened. “Get out of here. I thought she looked either pregnant or fat at the funeral. Johnny Lee’s, huh?” She sighed and stared out the windows across from us. “If Chad only knew the two of them betrayed him.”

“If you knew about them, why didn’t he?”

She looked sad suddenly. “I knew because I saw them together at one of my gigs. Besides piano lessons, I play at a couple of the bars on Broadway in the house bands. Not my first love, but it pays the bills. Twice I saw them at a place called Redneck’s, all loved up on each other. The second time they saw me, and that was the last I saw of them. But I knew.”

“And you didn’t tell Chad because?”

“I thought about it. But Bethann already hated me. Thought I was out to get Chad for myself.” She put a tea bag in each cup. “I knew what she’d say. That I was making it up, trying to put a wedge between them. It wasn’t worth losing my friendship with Chad over.”

“How close were you with him?”

The kettle was bubbling away. She turned it off and filled the cups. “Pretty close. We didn’t see each other every day, not like that. But I probably called or texted him several times a week. Definitely close enough that I asked him for advice now and then.”

“Advice about what?”

She brought a cup and the sugar bowl, spoon in it, to me. “Music contracts. Career advice. Job opportunities. Stuff like that. He’s the one who got me connected with my agent, Slim Jenkins. Slim was his agent too. For that, I will always be grateful to Chad.”

No wonder Bethann had been jealous of LeClaire. She and Chad had been friends and peers with the music industry in common. Bethann had been more on the outskirts of all that.

LeClaire went back to her cup, picked it up, and blew across the top. “He’s the reason I didn’t sign with North Forty, either.”

“What does that mean? Why didn’t you sign? What was the offer?”

“When Glen Hewitt bought the place, he wanted to do some more special nights like Chad’s Elvis night. He was thinking about doing a dueling pianos kind of thing. Chad suggested me for one of the players. I was thrilled. But when he helped me look over the contract …” She shook her head.

“Money wasn’t good?”

“Money was on the low end of fair. But Chad’s deal with the previous owners was a lot better. He had an escalation clause, a percentage of the door, all kinds of stuff. Glen wouldn’t even discuss those terms. It was take it or leave it. So I left it. That’s when Chad hooked me up with Slim.” She took a deep breath and stared toward the windows. “Six months later, Chad was gone.”

“Johnny Lee doesn’t have any issues with working for Glen.” I drank some tea. It was good. For tea.

She sipped hers, swallowed, and snorted softly. “Johnny Lee is lucky to be working for anyone. He’s all right, but he’s no Big Elvis. Never will be, either. In a town like this, you have to have real talent to make a name for yourself. And sometimes even that isn’t enough. Look at Glen.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“He had a big hit record in the ’90s. A song called ‘Red Leather Boots.’ It was a huge hit. Inspired a whole country dance. But he never had another one after that. Didn’t matter. The money from that song bought him North Forty.”

“Okay, so talent is important. But isn’t that true anywhere?”

“Maybe. But everyone in Nashville sings or plays an instrument or writes music. People come here to make it big. The town is lousy with talent. The girl who rang up my groceries last week just signed a record deal.” She snorted before taking another sip. “Johnny Lee got lucky with North Forty.”

“Do you think he might have had something to do with that luck?”

She gave me an odd look, then her gaze hardened. “You mean do I think he could have had something to do with Chad’s death? If he did, I hope he rots in prison. But I don’t think he could have done that. Johnny Lee’s a pretty soft man. The kind who does what he’s told. I don’t think he’d have the guts for something like that.”

Still, it had me thinking. If Johnny Lee’s job opening had come about because Chad was gone, could that just be a coincidence? Sure. But was it? I drank the last of my tea. “Thank you for your time and the tea. I really appreciate it.”

She nodded. “I hope you get somewhere and figure out who did this. Chad was a good guy. He didn’t deserve the end he got.”

I stood up. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

When I got home, I slipped in quietly so that I wouldn’t disrupt Sin. I set my purse down, then carefully opened the bedroom door to check on him. He was still asleep. He was pale, and there were gray-blue smudges under his eyes. I looked closer. Were those new strands of silver in his hair?

My heart ached, and I felt like crying. This couldn’t go on.

I took my phone from my purse and went back out to sit in the car so my phone call wouldn’t disturb him. I also didn’t want Chad to overhear.

“Afternoon, Princess,” Birdie answered. “How’s it going? Catch a killer yet?”

“Not quite.” I sighed. I couldn’t hide what I was feeling. “I need some help again.”

“Oh? What’s up?”

I rubbed my forehead. “For one thing, can you research a pair of genuine Elvis-owned sunglasses that might have been sold online in the last three years?”

“Absolutely. Send me a description and I’ll get on it. What’s the other thing?”

I took a breath. “You might need to talk to the witches in town on this one. I need to know how to get a spirit out of a necromancer.”

Birdie made a little noise. “I, uh, don’t need to talk to anyone about how to do that.”

“You don’t?” I frowned, not quite understanding. “Why not?”

“Because I started researching it as soon as you told me what happened. I’ve talked to Corrette and the coven. Even consulted Alice Bishop. I’ll tell you everything I found out. First, you’re going to need a lot of garlic and some ashes …”