No sooner had Houghton returned with fresh drinks than Annika leapt back to her feet and declared it was time “to fetch us some goddamn grub”. As she stepped inside, Houghton took her place on the lounge and smiled warmly at Roxy.
“Annie have a bit of a chat about the rules, did she?”
“The only rule I heard was ‘no flirting with the talent’.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry about that, hey, don’t give it another thought. Annie’s little green monster is on heightened alert these days, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“Ohhh, there was a bit of an incident not long ago, nothing for you to concern yourself with. No, no. This is a feel-good book, am I right or am I right?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be, you’re the boss.”
“Nah, love, that’d be Annika, just don’t tell Jed that.” He chuckled again. “Rightio, so I’d best go through some of the basics, you know, just to make sure we’re all on the same page, that kind of thing.”
“Go ahead.” She didn’t bother bracing herself this time, just took a good gulp of her cocktail. She was already on heightened alert.
“Rightio, so...” He took a swig of the beer in his hand then said in his strange, squeaky voice, “First point, an important one: please don’t give out any detail about the house and contents, or where it’s located, that kind of thing. Too many nutters out there, not to mention paparazzi, don’t wanna give them the heads-up.”
“You might be too late for that. Some photographer already nabbed me at the local café, gave me his business card.”
His eyes narrowed. “Beefy bloke, bad ponytail, mid-fifties?” She nodded and he frowned. “That’d be bloody Macker Maroney, I’d say, local pap. Tries his luck from time to time, the bugger. A bloody hopeless photographer, too—specialises in far away, fuzzy shots. Let me know if he tries it on you again, otherwise just keep your distance, okay? Oh, and tell me if you see him on the property, I’ll call the cops.” He found his smile. “Right, so, what else? Um, try not to bring up the wife and kids if you can help it.”
Roxy blinked, surprised. “I didn’t think they had kids.”
“Exactly. That’s off-limits.”
“Is it a sore point?”
“Bitterly sore, just leave it alone, hey?”
“Have they struggled for a long time?” He gave her a sideways look that suggested, “Good try, lady”, so she said, “Okay, I get that, but his wife? Really? Isn’t Annika a huge part of Jed’s life? How do I not mention her?”
“You mention her, of course you do, but strictly as the band’s manager. We try not to emphasise the fact Jed has a wife ...” He grinned. “The groupies have got to have something to hope for. Let’s just stick to the music, hey? Leave the domestic stuff out of it.”
Roxy stared at him. “I have an entire book to write, Houghton. Usually the client’s home life comes into it. I’m going to need to ask him something.”
“Yeah, ’course you are! Music, ask him about his music.”
“Right, but—”
“Except his first band, Horror Story. They’re off-limits, too.” He leaned in closer and half covered his mouth with his hand saying, “They were a horror story—but don’t quote me on that!” Then he sat back chuckling at himself again before taking another good swig of his beer. “We’re going to need to see the full manuscript draft by draft, if that’s all right with you. Best not to give it all to us at the end, hey? Might be a bit of a shock when we have to chop it and change things around.”
“Chop? Change?”
“Yeah, yeah, Annika’s got full editing rights. Your agent told you that, right?” No, she thought, he did not. “So,” he rubbed his hands together. “How long do you think you’re going to need? I’m thinking three days tops?”
“Three?! That’s going to be a bit tricky. Annika just told me Jed could be locked away in the studio for days.”
“I hear ya, I hear ya, and I know what you’re saying. Let’s just see how it goes, eh? Just take it day by day. But let’s not try to drag it out too long. The boys have got an album to finish and lots of work to do before the tour.”
“And what if Jed can’t give me much time?”
“Then you might just have to work with what you’ve got.” He shrugged, slugged the Crown Lager again. “We don’t need a lot anyway, will fill half of it with photos. Just get the general gist—childhood background of the three guys, early bands—”
“Except Horror Story.”
He chuckled and pointed his beer at her. “You’re a quick learner, I can see that about you. I think this is going to work really well, really looking forward to it.” He smacked his lips together. “Rightio then, any questions or concerns, leave Annika out of it, if you don’t mind. Just come see me directly.”
“I thought you said Annika was in charge.”
“Yeah, but the book idea was mine, not hers. So ... well ... let’s not bog her down with all that. If you need to see me, just check out here.” He glanced around the veranda. “This is usually where I set up camp when I’m in town. Otherwise, you can find me in the cottage behind yours.”
“So, you’re not staying in the main house either?”
“We’re the hired help, love, we stay where we’re told.”
He went to stand up and Roxy grabbed one of his arms and drew him back down.
“Actually, there was something.”
She was determined to find out more about the drowning that occurred on the Moody property, but she never got a chance. Houghton was now staring past her and towards the sweeping staircase where something caught his attention and made his whole demeanour change. He sat up straight, ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat.
“Well, well,” he squeaked, stumbling back to his feet and towards the stairs, one arm extended, “look who the cat dragged in!”
Roxy turned to find a man stepping up onto the veranda, an iconic Akubra slouch hat on his head. It was Juicy Jed, in the flesh.