Flesh & Bone - a contemporary romance: The Minstrel Series #2 (26 page)

An hour after Dirk left, Sebastian was surprised by another visitor. Herr Winkle was a tall, thin man who introduced himself as one of Sebastian’s father’s lawyers. He wore a sweater-vest over a white shirt and tie, and a designer winter jacket. He removed his satin scarf as he sat in the seat across from Sebastian.

Herr Winkle pushed glasses with dark, pricey frames up on his nose and got right to the point. “Your father has friends in high places, Herr Weiss. The judge has agreed that you’ve shown sufficient remorse and aren’t any danger to society. He has reduced the remainder of your sentence to six months and is permitting you to serve it under house arrest.”

Sebastian shook his head, flustered at the news. That was a ten month reduction.

“Why would Papa do that?”

Herr Winkle studied him. “I’m not privy to your personal relationship with your father, but I’m a father myself and I know I’d do anything to help my son, no matter the problem.”

The lawyer obviously didn’t know his papa, at least not the side Sebastian usually saw. This move was uncharacteristic and could only mean one thing. His father didn’t have much time left and he didn’t want to die with his son in jail.

“What’s next?” Sebastian asked.

“Your release will happen in three days. You will not be permitted to leave a six-block radius around your place of residence. You’re required to work thirty hours a week for three months doing community service without pay. A parole officer will be in touch daily and make random drop-in visits to ensure you comply.”

“Where?”

“The judge has left it up for you to choose. Do you have something in mind you’d like to do or should the courts appoint you with a task?”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I know exactly what I want to do.” Herr Winkle stood. “Great. The next half year won’t be that exciting for you, but it’ll be better than what you’d experience if you stayed here.”

“Pass the butter, please, Eva,” Papa said. Eva pinned her smile on and handed the dish to her father. Her eyes grazed over Gabriele and Lennon who’d joined them for the occasion. Lennon was a handsome attraction to the family. And a nice guy, Eva thought. Gabriele was the luckiest girl on earth. She didn’t have to worry about Lennon lying and keeping huge secrets from her.

“How’s work?” Papa asked him while passing the basket of buns.

Lennon worked at a small IT company. He was pretty tight-lipped about it, saying no more than it was boring computer work, so no one was exactly sure what it was he did there.

“Good,” Lennon said. He selected a bun covered with poppy seeds. After a short lull in the conversation he offered, “I’m grateful for steady work in this economy.”

“Don’t you miss England, though?” Eva asked. “Do you think you and Gabriele will move there one day?”

Lennon shook his head. “There’s nothing left for me there.” He patted Gabriele on the knee. “Everything important to me now is here in Germany.”

“Are you still enjoying your studies?” Lennon asked Eva, changing the subject.

Eva nodded, smile firmly in place. “Oh, yes.”

A flash of concern swept over Gabriele’s face before she returned Eva’s smile. “We’re so glad things have worked out for you. And that song—”

Eva flicked her hand, her eyes widening slightly as she rushed to stop her sister from going there. “It’s nothing. My life is so full of other things. Terrific other things.”

She heard her mother clear her throat. The new Eva was an improved Eva. Mama made sure no one rocked the boat. “How’s your job search going, Gabi?” Mama asked.

Gabriele’s English and International Studies degree had yet to land her a job. “I have an interview on Tuesday.” Eva smiled and showed concern in all the right places.

“Eva,” Papa said, “Can you play for the soup kitchen service on Sunday?”

Papa always asked and Eva always agreed. “Of course.”

Eva helped with cleaning up and made pleasant conversation when it was necessary. She was determined to be the perfect daughter, the perfect sister.

Also, the perfect student. “I have a lot of studying to do,” she said lightly. “Good night, everyone.”

She disappeared down the hall and into the room she no longer had to share. She eased onto her bed, propping the pillows up behind her back and let out a thick breath. Keeping up her cheerful, carefree façade was exhausting. A knock on the door forced her to snap back to the happy child. Gabriele stuck her head in.

“Hey.”

Eva cocked her head. “Hey?”

“Is everything all right? You just seem…”

Eva kept her expression soft. “Seem?”

“Different.”

“I thought that was what you wanted.” Eva didn’t bother reminding Gabriele of all the times she lectured her to face her fears and get on with her life. That was what she was doing.

Gabriele’s shoulders sagged. “I want you to be happy, Eva. That’s all.”

“I am happy, Gabi.”

“You’d tell me if anything was wrong.”

Eva pushed back her discomfort. Gabriele was too discerning and Eva had to be more careful around her. Eva smiled brighter. “Of course.” She brushed imaginary lint off her arm while adding, “And I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Sebastian had been escorted to his flat at 23:00 in order to avoid public attention. He managed to stay under the media radar for three days before a small contingent began camping outside his door. The warehouse was outside of his permitted six-block radius so the band had to meet at his flat. Tonight would be the first time they would be gathered together in one spot since his arrest.

Sebastian tidied the place up. Washed dishes. Swept the floor. It was odd to be home. After six months of never being alone, he appreciated the quiet. But he also felt lonely. He glanced out the window again and watched the small group of fans. It was cold outside, which limited the size. Not many had the stamina to wait more than an hour at a time and Sebastian was glad for that.

“Just go away,” he muttered. Fortunately, there was a back way out of his building, through the courtyard, and if Sebastian waited until after dark he could make it to the corner store or pizza place to get food when he was hungry. He wore a pair of reading glasses and a wool cap along with a thick winter coat to further his disguise. So far it had worked. He hadn’t been recognized.

He spent most of his time alone playing his guitar. He hadn’t played since the summer and he was rusty as hell. The tips of his fingers were soft and pink like a baby’s. He pushed through the discomfort. He had to get back in shape.

The buzzer sounded, and he let the boys in. There was an awkward reunion of handshaking and back-patting. Karl cautiously extended his hand and Sebastian gave it a quick, professional shake.

“It’s good to see you in a friendlier environment,” Dirk said.

“It’s good to be home,” Sebastian admitted.

He offered beer and put out a bowl of chips. “So,” he began. “What’d I miss?”

“We’ve been doing small venues without you,” Karl said. He kept his expression flat, but Sebastian suspected that he had enjoyed not having to share the spotlight.

“Great,” Sebastian offered.

“We know you can’t leave the
Neustadt
, but hey,” Dirk said with a grin, “the
Neustadt
is the best place to play anyway. I can book a concert in a different venue every other week. I guarantee it will sell out each time because it’s the only place your fans can come to see you. Plus, everyone is dying of curiosity.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I suppose. The fans have been great. Who am I to deprive them of what they want? The only thing is I’m outta practice. And we can’t rehearse here. My neighbors would complain. Loudly.”

“Dirk’s already looked after that,” Markus said. “The Blue Note.”

“Maurice will let us rehearse there?” Sebastian asked. “Isn’t he busy running a business?”

Dirk answered with a grin. “The Blue Note is closed in the mornings. You can meet from eight to ten.”

Sebastian took a swig of his beer. Nothing like jumping back into the raging river feet first. “Fine. But I have community service from eleven to five, five days a week. Starting tomorrow.

Dirk reached over and slapped him on the back. “You’ll be a busy boy.”

Sebastian nodded. “That I will.” He was glad of it. It would make his sentence go by faster and give him less time to think and stew.

Now that the business end of things was worked out, an uncomfortable break in conversation settled in the room. Markus answered a call on his phone. Dirk messed around with his tablet, supposedly updating their calendar and responding to emails.

Karl tapped his knees with his fingers. “I should probably tell you that Yvonne and I broke up.”

“Oh.” Good. Now he didn’t have to worry about dealing with her. She’d tried to visit him when he was in prison, but he’d declined her request.

“And I want to say sorry,” Karl continued. “I was an ass.”

“Yeah, you were,” Sebastian said. Then he smiled. No sense hanging on to grudges. Karl had actually done him a favor, even if it made him a jackass. “Hey, it’s the past. Let’s move on.”

The next day’s rehearsal just proved that they needed to keep rehearsing, but it felt really good to be back at music and to play hard and loud. Sebastian hadn’t lost himself in anything like that in ages, and he almost lost track of time.

“
Scheisse!
” Sebastian unstrapped his guitar. “I have to get going.”

“Go,” Karl said. “We’ll clean up.”

Sebastian threw on his heavy black jacket and matching wool cap. He wrapped his grey, knit scarf around his neck, covering half his face. It made for a good disguise along with its practical usefulness to block the bitter wind. He broke into a jog, dodging other pedestrians in a hurry to get to their destinations and out of the wintery weather. The crisp air froze his lungs and focused his mind, not on where he was going, but on the fact that he needed to get there on time.

With only a minute to spare he turned the corner onto
Alaunstrasse
, almost slipping on a patch of ice, and arrived, just as the graffiti-covered metal outer blinds were rising. Herr Baumann stared at him with a solemn expression from the other side of the glass.

Sebastian figured the guy regretted agreeing to this assignment, but it was too late now for either of them to change their minds. Sebastian would be working at the soup kitchen for the next three months.

Herr Baumann opened the door and growled, “Come in before you freeze to death.”

Sebastian entered, clicking the door shut and the cold with it. He pulled off his gloves and cap and waited. Herr Baumann pointed to a closet at the end of the hall. “You can hang your things here.”

Sebastian did as instructed and followed the quiet man to the kitchen. So there’d be no small talk. No welcome speech. Not that Sebastian expected any of that. Frau Baumann was there when they entered, with her hands in a deep, stainless steel sink. She glanced at Sebastian and frowned, then turned her attention back to the sink, like the dirty pots soaking in it held immense fascination.