Coming Undone (16 page)

She lowered her lids to prevent him from seeing her eyes cross. “Well, I’ll tell you what.” Proud of how composed she sounded, she tugged his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans. After a second spent admiring the hard, flat planes she’d exposed, she looked up to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you shoot for a brand-new personal best here? I’m happy to do the wild thing with you, but only if you try to keep those defects to a minimum until the end of the tour. The last thing we need is a big breakup in the middle of it. I don’t think I can take the drama of having to work with someone I’ve just dumped.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He unfastened the long row of tiny pearlescent buttons down the front of her aqua top. “I’ll do my best to keep you pleased.” Wrapping his hands around her hips, he straightened to his full height, lifting her against the wall.

Then he kissed her, full-tilt boogie.

Adrift in an immediate maelstrom of sensation, she anchored herself by wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

He slid his hands beneath her skirt and grasped her bottom, his splayed fingers so hot through the fragile satin of her panties that she wouldn’t be surprised if they melted beneath his touch. Snugging her to the steely length of his penis, he rocked against her with carnal intent. He was the barest fraction off-target and, crossing her ankles behind his back, she lifted the millimeter it took to make that hard ridge hit just the right spot. “Oh!” she whispered against his marauding mouth, her fingers biting into his shoulders. “Oh,
please.
”

And please her he did—until she hurtled off the edge of the universe.

“God.” He continued grinding against her, prolonging her orgasm. “That
sound.
You squeaked just like that when you yawned outside the dressing room earlier.” She went limp against him and he stepped back, gathering her in his arms before she could slide bonelessly to the floor. He carried her over to the bed, laid her upon the coverlet and came down on top of her, bracing himself on his forearms. “I’d been trying like hell to stay away from you,” he said in a rough voice. “Then you made that I’m-coming sound and it damn near erased all my hard-won resolve. I wanted to nail you right there against the door in the amphitheater corridor.”

“Ah.” Her heart gave a mad thump, but she nodded sagely. “That explains your hotfooting it down the hall for a chair when there were probably a couple in the dressing room. Which I appreciated, by the way, since it allowed me to make my escape.”

“Don’t remind me. We’re going to talk about that…but not right this minute.” He slid down her body, divesting her of clothing as he went. “I’ve still got that licking fantasy to fulfill.”

She was limper than a plate of overcooked fettuccini by the time he finished with her more than an hour later. “You’ve gotta quit doing that,” she murmured into the chest she lay half draped over.

“Doing what?” He stroked her from the top of her head to the base of her spine.

“Giving me too many orgasms.”

His hand stilled. Raising his head and tucking his chin, he stared down at her, his eyebrows elevated. “Is that even possible?”

“You wouldn’t think so, would ya? Yet it is if you only get one and I get, like, a bazillion.”

“So coming a lot is a bad thing?”

She blew out a breath and found the energy to lift her head long enough to stack her hands on his warm chest. She propped her chin on them. “’Course not. But if it’s such a good thing, then why are you only having one to my many?”

“Hello!” He circled a hand over her bottom. “Women—multiple orgasms.” He made the same gesture over his sex, which currently lay dormant upon his thigh. “Men—recovery time.”

“Fine. But I’m an equal-opportunity lover. And I’m sure you could manage to get it up twice. You took an hour with me before you even dropped your pants. And maybe you could cut my orgasms down to, oh, say, four. That way you’d be ahead one hundred percent, and I—well, maybe I might be able to summon the energy to move in something under an hour. Right now I’ve got spaghetti bones.”

He laid his head back on the pillow and resumed stroking her. “Well, okay. But I gotta warn you, once I cut back I might not be willing to pick up a heavier load again. So don’t come whining to me if you want more and I say no.”

“I’ll try my best to keep a stiff upper lip,” she said dryly.

“See that you do.”

Eventually they had to get up and get dressed, but P.J. retained her ultra-mellow mood during the drive back to the amphitheater and all through sound check. Walking over to the bus to grab a couple items to take back to the hotel with her, she gave Jared a lazy smile. “Man. I feel amazing. Usually I only feel this relaxed after a shot or two of Wild Turkey.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance.” He hooked an arm around her shoulders and looked down at her. “Not to rain on your parade, but we have to talk about you ditching me this morning.”

“Must we? I told you, I needed a break and you were just adding to my stress level.”

“I’m sorry about that. But I’m being paid to see to it that you don’t go off by yourself. Trust me, you don’t want to be on your own if the whack job, as you called him, makes a return appearance.”

“Oh, please.” She stopped at the door to the bus and looked up at him. “Do you honestly believe he was anything but a one-shot deal?”

“I hope to hell he was exactly that. I really do. But as I told you before, I’m not betting your safety on it.”

Because she understood what he was saying on an intellectual level—even while the thought of constant surveillance felt stifling on an emotional one—she let it go. “Hi, Marvin,” she greeted the driver as the door swished open and she boarded the bus.

“Hiya, Miz Morgan. I put your package on your bed.”

“Thanks,” she said absently, thinking ahead to what she needed to grab. She strode straight toward her stateroom.

“What package?” Jared asked.

“The one the security guy said Miz Morgan told him to give me to put in her room.”

“Is that true?” he called after her. “Were you expecting something from last week’s shopping trip, maybe?”

“Hmm?” She greeted Hank as she passed him lounging in an open-curtained sleeping berth reading a James Lee Cooper book, then entered her room. “Oh, look!” she said, dropping her purse on the built-in counter and crossing to the beautifully wrapped package on her bed.

It was fairly large, about the size of three stacked boot boxes. She reached for the iridescent ribbon.

“Don’t touch that!”

She gaped over her shoulder at Jared as he burst into the room. “What?”

“Did you or did you not ask a security guard to deliver this to your room?”

“No. Of course not.”

He squatted down to inspect the package. “Well, that’s what the man who delivered it told Marvin.” He pressed his ear to the side of the package. “And you don’t open unexplained gifts without a few precautions.”

“No, I suppose not. Is it
ticking?
”

“No.” He looked up at her. “Go stand outside the door.”

“What? No.”

Jared rose to his feet, grasped her by the shoulders and backed her out the door. “Stay there.”

“I’m not going to leave you to deal with that on your own.”

“Stay there!” he barked. “Dealing with it is my job.”

Hank rolled out of the berth behind her. “What’s going on?”

“Unexplained package,” Jared said succinctly. “See that she stays out of the room.”

“You got it.”

“Hank,” she protested, but he merely wrapped a sinewy arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. She watched with her heart in her mouth as Jared went back to the package.

He examined it up, down and sideways, then reached for the tips of the ribbon.

She held her breath as he untied it, but nothing happened. Nothing happened when he carefully unwrapped it, either. But she saw his back stiffen when he lifted its lid free with a ballpoint pen.

“What?” she demanded, pulling against Hank’s hold. “What is it?”

“Shit,” Jared said.

She broke free and crossed the room, but stopped dead when she saw what the package contained. Her lips drew back from her teeth in revulsion.

For uncoiling out of the box, tongue flicking and head weaving, was a big orange and gold snake.

“O
MIGAWD, OMIGAWD, OMIGAWD.”
P.J. couldn’t backpedal from the bed fast enough. But neither could she seem to rip her gaze from the narrow, reptilian head rising above the lip of the box. She watched hypnotized as the snake slithered over the container’s side. When it touched the comforter and began to wind across the bed, Jared tossed aside the box lid and grabbed it.

“Are you crazy?” Her backward momentum stopped dead. “Don’t
touch
it! It might be poisonous.”

“No.” He grasped the snake behind its narrow head and just above its tapered tail and, holding it up, stretched the reptile out to what appeared to be a full six feet. “It’s a corn snake. I knew a jarhead in North Carolina once who had one for a pet. They’re nonpoisonous.”

“He had a snake for a
pet?
” She shivered. “I bet he didn’t have a lot of girlfriends.”

“No shit,” Hank agreed.

Jared looked up from studying the snake. “You don’t think he’s kind of pretty? Look at this coloring.”

And from a distance the reptile did have a beauty of sorts. Its skin was gold with vibrant red-orange markings outlined in brown. Had it been behind glass in a zoo, she might even have admired it.

But it wasn’t, and she didn’t.

“Hank,” Jared said. “Check inside the box to see if there’s a message. Then get the lid, will you? Try not to touch either too much, though, if you can avoid it. The cops will probably want to dust it for prints.”

Hank brushed by her and leaned to peer in the box. “There is something here.” He pulled out a sheet of paper by its upper-right corner and traded it for the box lid on the bed. “Ready when you are.”

They worked like a team of long standing as Jared returned the snake to the box and Hank slipped on the lid to secure it. Then J bent to read the paper. She and Hank crowded in on either side to see what it said.

“It’s the same person, isn’t it,” she said. The tone was consistent with the last message. She glanced uneasily at the box. “Are you sure that snake’s not poisonous?”

“Yes. But I’ll get on the horn with the cops.” Using his palms on the corners of the box, Jared lifted it off the bed and set it out in the hall. He was already pulling his cell phone from his pocket as he stepped back into the room.

“What ‘them’?” she asked suddenly. When both men gave her a blank look, she said, “It says ‘I will send the teeth of beasts upon them.’ What them? He sent the snake to me.”

“It’s a biblical reference,” Hank said. “From ‘Moses’ Song’ in Deuteronomy. The ‘them’ refers to the Israelites.” When both she and Jared stared at him, he shrugged, flashing them a wry smile. “I’m a southern boy. That’s pretty much synonymous with being raised in the church.”

Jared turned his attention to the 911 dispatcher that had obviously just picked up and P.J. moved closer to Hank.

“So what this guy is saying, then, is that he’s not happy about Mama’s version of our relationship? Like
he
knows anything about it.” But she waved the brief flash of bitterness aside. “Good thing I had you to interpret, Hank, because I’m not sure I’d have gotten it without you. Seems to me he’d have a better chance putting his message across if he used something that everybody’s familiar with whether they’re churchgoers or not. You know, like the Lord’s Prayer or that Lord is my Shepherd psalm. I know neither makes the point he’s trying to get across, but still, there must be something more well known.” Her eyes lit up. “I know, maybe that ‘a thankless child is sharper than a serpent’s tooth’ thing. I would’ve gotten that one.”

“Except it’s not from the Bible,” Hank said.

“Oh.” She grimaced. “I guess that shows how important Mama thought religion was to my upbringing. It
sounds
like something that might be in the Bible.”

“Yeah, it does. It’s Shakespeare, though, and this guy is clearly a zealot, so I doubt that in his mind a playwright’s words would fit the bill. Religion’s his thing.”

“Sending snakes to people he doesn’t know anything about doesn’t seem very Christian to me.”

“I’m talking about the way he apparently views himself, Peej. You’re right, though, it isn’t the way I was taught. My God is benevolent. And even to the hell and brimstoners, Romans clearly says, ‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink. For in doing so thou shalt heap coals upon his head’.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Which is probably more information than you want or need. This kind of shit just burns me up, though. The guy who sent that snake might consider himself some onward Christian soldier, but that’s bull. He’s nothing but a stalker.”

“Oh God.” Ice formed in her stomach as she gaped at Hank. “I hadn’t thought about it like that, but that’s exactly what this is, isn’t it? Stalking. Like with John Lennon.”

Sliding his cell phone back into his pocket, Jared rejoined them. “I know it’s easier said than done not to worry,” he said. “But try at least not to let it make you crazy.”

“I know.” She grimaced with self-deprecation. “I’m hardly in Lennon’s class.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I just meant that I’m going to take care of this before it has the chance to escalate to that sort of violence.”

“What happened to calling in the cops?”

“Oh, I called them. Unfortunately there’s no telling when they’ll get here, since no one was hurt or is in immediate danger. That’s a good thing, but it makes us a low priority so it could be a while. I think we should put the box in one of the free berths to keep from contaminating it any more than we already have. I can’t imagine them not dusting for prints when they get here. If we’re lucky our guy will be in the system and that will be the end of it.”

“I wouldn’t count on it if P.J. is the first person he’s stalked,” Hank said.

“I know. And I don’t plan on standing around waiting for information they may or may not feel like sharing with us even if he is.” Jared stowed the box in a berth. Pulling the accordion curtain closed, he called, “Marvin!”

“Yes, sir?” Marvin appeared in the hallway entrance.

“Tell me everything you can remember about the man who delivered the package for Miss Morgan.”

The driver blinked, frowned in obvious thought, then said, “He was probably somewhere in his mid-fifties and fit for his age. He was medium tall—say five-ten or -eleven—and he had on a black security uniform.”

“I’ll check on the color of Red Rock’s, but I doubt it will be that easy. How about his hair? What color was it?”

Sweat trickled down Marvin’s temple. “Um, I didn’t notice. He had on the kind of hat you’d see on cops at a police funeral. You know, like when they’re in their dress uniforms?”

“You’re very observant,” Jared said, but he had to work to keep his voice easy. Because while he spoke the truth, he wanted more. He wanted total recall. He drew and exhaled a calming breath. “Just close your eyes for a minute. Maybe it’ll come to you.”

Marvin did as he was told, but after a minute his eyes popped open again and he shook his head. “What was in the box, Mr. Hamilton?” he asked anxiously. “Am I in trouble? Because I’m sorry, but it didn’t even occur to me to question him when he said Miz Morgan had asked him to deliver her package to the bus. He knew my name, so I just assumed—”

Jared straightened. “He knew your name?”

“Yes, sir.”

He turned to P.J. “Where have you said Marvin’s name publicly?”

“I—I—I.” Biting off the stutter, she stared up at him. Shook her head. “Nowhere.”

“Think, Peej. Your driver’s name isn’t the sort of thing that would be common knowledge, so it’s unlikely the man just pulled it out of thin air. I’ve heard you talk to your audiences at concerts. Have you mentioned Marvin at one of them maybe, or to a backstage worker somewhere? A roadie or makeup woman or—”

“No, I swear.”

“During a radio interview?”

“No.” Then she paused. “Wait. Yes.”

Yes!
Now they were getting somewhere. The probability of finding the guy went up significantly with a concrete place to start. “When?”

“It was…” Brow furrowing, she trailed off into silence. “Damn, I can’t remember!”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Don’t try to force it. Do what I suggested to Marvin. Just close your eyes and let your mind drift.”

“Brown!” Marvin exclaimed out of the blue. When everyone looked at him, he said, “The man’s hair was sort of sandy-brown and cut short. It might have been graying a bit at the temples.”

Jared grinned and slapped the driver on the back. “Good work. When the cops show up, let’s see if we can get them to hook you up with a sketch artist.”

“Yes, excellent work, Marvin,” P.J. said, reaching to pat the driver’s hand. “And I’m sorry I put you in this position. Because I do remember now—I mentioned your name on the first satellite radio interview I did. The DJ and I had been talking about the tavern gigs I’d done on my way to Portland. And when he asked if I planned to continue driving myself to the other cities on the tour I said no and mentioned your name.”

“It’s not a problem, Miz Morgan. I feel bad I let him bamboozle me.”

“I suggest we all do better from now on,” Jared cut in. “Marvin, we’ll make you a list of the people we want to get through to us. You don’t accept anything from anyone who’s not on it. And, P.J., do not give out any more personal information. Not your friends’ names, not the type or color of vehicle you drive and certainly not where you live when you’re not on the road.”

“Oh, crap. My transgressions just keep piling up.”

He turned a slow stare on her. “Meaning?”

Looking guilty, she nevertheless shot her pointy little chin up at him. “That interview where I mentioned Marvin? I also told the DJ I’d bought my first real home in Aspen.”

“Dammit, P.J.!” Then he shook off his frustration. Glommed on to his professionalism. “No, it’s all right. I would have liked to’ve known about it a little sooner, but it’s all right. The bad news here is also the good news—this guy is clearly trailing you, not hanging around As pen looking to burn down your house. All the same, I’ll call Gert and have her arrange to have a guard put on it.”

“Okay, boss.”

His first inclination was to snarl that he wasn’t screwing around here. But giving her a quick, close inspection, he saw that she knew that. Signs of strain showed beneath her flippancy, and he tamped down a temper he had no business experiencing in the first place. “I should have asked for tapes of the interviews. If I had we would have talked about this sooner and some of the measures I intend to take now would already be in place. I apologize. I should have anticipated something like this.” What was it about her, anyway, that got under his skin so easily?

Her head snapping up, she shot him a look of disgust. “Oh, get over yourself, Hamilton. Who the hell could’ve foreseen a whack job like this popping up?”

“I should have. This tour has you in the public eye and there’s been a ton of publicity about you lately. That’s exactly the kind of situation that brings out the crazies.” But that horse had left the barn, so he shrugged. “What radio station was that interview on? That would give us a more exact place to start.”

“I don’t remember off the top of my head. Somewhere in the Midwest—in Iowa, I think. Nell would have a copy of the schedule.”

The police still hadn’t arrived when it was time for P.J. to go to the amphitheater to have her hair and makeup done. But Rocket showed up. After looking to Jared for permission, Marvin let John onto the bus.

His brother-in-law looked as easy as ever as he climbed aboard. Stopping in front of P.J., he gave her a gentle smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m freaked,” she said. “And angry. But basically okay. What are you doing here?”

“Jared called me.”

He nodded an acknowledgment when she glanced over at him. “I need to stay here to wait for the police to show up and I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”

“I put in a call to Detective Ellis,” John said, naming a detective they’d both worked with in the past. “Of course, the problem here is jurisdiction, and this belongs to Morrison rather than Denver. Still, she said she’d reach out and see if she couldn’t get someone out here ASAP. Meanwhile—” Turning to P.J., he offered his arm. “Whataya say, sweetheart? Can I escort you to the amphitheater?”

P.J.
FRETTED ABOUT THE
quality of her upcoming performance as she sat through makeup and hair. She was tense and upset and as much as she didn’t want it to affect the concert, she didn’t see how it could help but do precisely that.

But she’d forgotten to take into account the number-one factor of her existence. Music was, and always had been, her drug of choice. And when she strode out onto the stage and saw the navy sky framed by two soaring three-hundred-foot red sandstone monoliths that were floodlit from below, when she opened her mouth to belt out her first number and the shifting sea of humanity that spread up the slope before her roared to its feet in response, it was the remedy she needed for what ailed her.

Just as it had always been. Euphoria flooded her veins, washing out all the sick anger that had lodged in her stomach ever since she’d seen that snake, read that note. By the time they wrapped up the first song, she knew it was going to be a concert for the record books. “Hello, Red Rocks!”

The audience screamed greetings back.

“Is this the greatest natural amphitheater in the world, or what?”

The roar of nine thousand throats agreed that it was.

When the concert came to a thunderous conclusion an hour and a half later, she was perspiring freely. Clammy clothing and frizzing hair aside, however, she felt marvelous. Accepting a hand towel from Nell when she finally exited the stage, she grinned at her friend and danced in place. “Wow. Was that the best one ever, or what?”

“You rocked,” Nell agreed. “I was ready to commiserate with you over that snake business, but you obviously found a way to get past it.”