Murder at Castle Rock (12 page)

Andy shuffled around from the back of the bar, balancing two drinks on a tray. Setting down the two Jack and Diets, he smiled at me. "These are on the house." To Tony, he added, "You treat her right—Amelia's quite a catch. She's one of my favorite regulars." I blushed as he winked and then trotted back to the bar.

"Quite the catch? I think he should throw you back." I whipped my head toward the nasal voice. Tall, blonde, and bitchy Stacy Jefferson stood next to our booth, a nasty smirk on her bright red lips.

Stacy's father, Owen, owned at least half of the music venues in the Southeast, including three in Atlanta: Vintage House, the Beat Barn, and the Soul Hut. As his only child, she'd grown up a spoiled-rotten rich kid who was used to having everything handed to her—trophies, grades, all the top honors in school—until I came along. Our music management professor, Dr. Covington, had been a man of integrity. Stacy's grades in his class couldn't be bought, and through hard work and hours of studying, I edged her out of the top spot in the Music Business program. She had harbored a personal vendetta against me ever since. I wasn't too fond of her, either.

I narrowed my eyes at Stacy. "Hello to you too, Stace," I said coolly. "Alone tonight, I see—what's wrong? Daddy wouldn't buy you a date for the evening?"

Tony snickered, but he cut his laughter short when Stacy shot him a withering look. She eyed him appraisingly, her lip curling upward as she tried to look seductive. "You could do better than Amelia
Graceless
, you know." She leaned over to shake his hand, purposely thrusting her cleavage in his face. "I'm Stacy. Maybe I can take you out sometime and show you what it's like to be with a
real
woman."

Tony took her hand but pointedly kept his eyes locked above her neck—I gave him points for not ogling her when he had the chance. "Tony Spencer," he introduced himself. He glanced at me and added, "I think I'm doing just fine over here." I beamed at him as Stacy scowled. She wasn't used to being rejected. She rose to her full height but let her hand linger over his on the table for a few moments. I wanted to slam my glass down on her fingers. If it wouldn't have crushed Tony's hand too, I think I might've done it.

"Your loss, baby," she said in a bored tone. She lifted her hand to inspect her perfect manicure. "Besides," she said, giving me a sidelong look, "I'm seeing someone new anyway. I landed a Las Vegas man on my last business trip with Daddy. He's devastatingly handsome, great in the sack, and obviously has supreme taste in women."

"Good for you, Stace!" I mocked. "How much did he cost you? Three thousand? Four? Or are you bargain shopping these days?"

Stacy's face turned as red as her lipstick. Growling, she raised her hand as if she wanted to strike me across the face. She took a deep, calming breath and then dropped her hand back to her side. With her eyes shooting daggers into me, she said haughtily, "I think I'll go find a better bar to hang out in. Something in here
stinks
."

"It's your perfume." I pinched my nose to block the overwhelming odor. "What fragrance is that? Eau de Bitch?"

With an angry gasp, Stacy turned and stormed off, her stilettos clicking loudly on the floor. She stopped after a few feet to turn back and sneer at me. "By the way," she said with mock sincerity, "
so
sorry about your boss. Now that he's gone it's only a matter of time before Castle Rock goes under. Your days are numbered, Graceless." She pivoted on one heel and was gone before I could respond.

"I hate her," I muttered.

Tony shook his head. "Don't let her get to you. She's not worth it." He put his hand over mine. The warmth in his voice made me smile. I found myself wanting to know more about this sweet, funny man that rated a thirteen out of ten on my hotness scale.

We spent the next half hour nursing our drinks as I playfully grilled him about his life. I learned that he was thirty-two and had grown up in a small town in Nevada, an only child. He received a marketing degree from a community college in his hometown and had worked promotions for a club there until recently, when he'd moved down to Atlanta. He was now working two jobs: a part-time gig as an auto-mechanic by day, and at night he worked promotions and events for 95Rox. By the end of the conversation—and my drink—I found that I was either pretty drunk, or pretty smitten—or perhaps a little bit (okay, a
lot
) of both.

"Your turn, "Tony said, throwing another one of his charming grins my way.

"What would you like to know?" I gave him a coy smile.

"For starters, I want to know when you'll go out with me again."

Well, that was forward, not that I'm complaining.
I made a show of glancing at my watch and pretending to think it over for a minute. "When you beat me at a game of pool." I smirked.

"Oh, you're on! This should be easy," he gloated, jumping out of the booth and leading the way to the pool table in the next room.

Fifteen minutes later, I had already cleared all of my balls, and if he missed his shot I could sink the eight ball and clench the game. Tony lit a cigarette and leaned down low to assess his options on the table. "I'd aim for the six and try to bank your shot off of the rail, into that far left pocket," I advised smugly. "No pressure."

"I know what I'm doing," Tony mumbled. His aim was too far to the right, and he missed his mark. The cue ball shot past the six and came to a stop along the rail, perfectly lining up my winning shot.

"Sucker!" I sang as the eight ball dropped into the pocket with a
clink
. "I win!" I held my drink high in the air and strutted around the table in a victory dance. "I guess I'm not as easy as you thought." I froze, realizing too late my Freudian slip.
Crap
.

Tony rolled his grey eyes and surprised me by sweeping me up in his arms. "I never said
you
were easy, doll face. I demand a rematch, though. You just got lucky that time." He gently grabbed my chin and tilted my face to his, leaning in close so that his lips were almost touching mine.
Speaking of getting lucky…

"Mind if I cut in?" slurred a thick British accent. Tony released me abruptly, and I whirled around, finding myself face-to-face with a very drunk Bobby Glitter. Candy and Jared stood just behind him. Jared's smug smile suggested he was pleased they'd interrupted what could have been my first encounter with Tony's luscious lips.
So much for luck
.

"What are you doing here?" I scrunched my nose at the waves of stench rolling off the sloshed singer. His breath reeked of liquor and cigar smoke, and just a hint of vomit.
Ew.
"And where have you been? The dump?"

"Your bartender recommended this place last night," Jared said, eyeing Tony.

"We kicked off the night at the Clermont Lounge." Bobby flailed his arms excitedly, nearly smacking me in the face. "I'd heard there was a woman there who could crush a beer can with her bloody breasts. It was spectacular! We were having a ball until they asked me to leave—apparently it's frowned upon to try and shag the dancers." He cackled so hard he had a coughing fit and had to pound on his chest a few times before it subsided. He glanced at Tony's lit cigarette and then looked up at him hopefully. "Could I bum a smoke, mate?" He coughed again, wheezing so loudly that I was surprised he had lungs left to ruin.

Tony arched a skeptical brow at Bobby but still retrieved his pack of Camel Filters from his back pocket. "Not sure if you need this, man, but knock yourself out." He offered the pack to Bobby and the drunken rock star snatched a cig from it without so much as a thanks.

I turned back to Tony. "I think I've schooled you enough for one night," I teased, moving to hang up my pool cue.

"I wouldn't mind playing the winner," Jared said. He wrenched out of Candy's clutches and stepped forward. Pouting, Candy skulked toward the bar to order some drinks. Jared hadn't noticed. His attention was on Tony. "Have we met before?" He studied Tony's face as if trying to place it.

"I don't think so, dude." Tony placed a hand on my shoulder and extended the other to shake Jared's. From under his arm, I felt him stiffen. He tightened his grip around me. "Maybe you saw me last night? I worked a 95Rox promotion outside Castle Rock before your show." His even tone of voice didn't let on that he was suddenly feeling so possessive.

Jared nodded absently as he racked the balls for our game of pool. I gave him a run for his money, but in the end, he beat me out to become the new champion in our little tournament. "Come on—just this once, winner buys the loser a drink." He gave me a good-natured smile. I couldn't argue with free booze, so I happily led the group into the other room and eased into an empty booth. Tony pushed past Jared to slide in next and threw his arm around me. He seemed jealous of Jared, though he had no reason to be—Candy had returned with a drink in hand. She pulled Jared into the side of the booth opposite us. She must have made a pit stop to the restroom for a bump of something
her pupils were like tiny pinpoints, and her nostrils were red.

Bobby stopped to give out a few autographs to a group of star-struck women who had been peeking around the corner at him while Jared and I played pool. He caught up with us and slid into the booth next to Candy the Red-Nosed Groupie, leaning his lips to her ear. "Got any more nose candy, Candy?" he whispered loudly. She giggled and reached into her cleavage to retrieve a small baggy. Grabbing Bobby's hand, she pulled it under the table where she doled out some of her goods. Bobby dipped his head below the table, and I heard a loud
sniff!
as he snorted something. I glanced around uncomfortably. I wasn't cool with them doing drugs out in the open like this. Tony watched them with some interest, but Jared didn't react at all. He studied the drink menu, completely ignoring what was going on beside him. I wondered what he saw in a washed-up junkie like Candy.

Andy came to take our drink orders, and as we waited for his return I made an attempt at small talk. "So, where's your quiet friend tonight?" I asked, referring to the silent drummer, Cliff.

"He wasn't feeling well," Jared replied. "He's taking the night off from partying to rest up for tomorrow's show."

"Not much of a talker, is he?" I hadn't heard Cliff speak since the band arrived the previous afternoon.

A smirk curled the edge of Jared's lips. "He's a man of few words."

I turned my attention to Bobby. "What about your buddy, Stone? Not a night owl, either?"

"Stone?" Bobby snorted. "That lazy bloke was probably in bed hours ago—either that, or he's still on the phone with his mates back home in Vegas. The man used to party like a rock star, but lately he's been a real drag. All business, all the time. I have more fun without him, anyway."

Andy brought over our drinks and three shots of bourbon for Bobby. The rocker lined up the small glasses and quickly downed each: One, gulp. Two, gulp. Three, gulp.

Watching Bobby throw back his drinks gave me an idea. Now that I knew someone had struck Parker before he fell, I was thinking of Stone's argument with my boss in a different light. Perhaps it wasn't just a small contractual disagreement after all. If I could keep Bobby drinking, maybe I could get him talking and find out what he knew about what had transpired between them.

I hailed Andy back to our table and ordered everyone another round of drinks—and another three shots of bourbon for Bobby. "You're my kind of woman, Miss Grace," Bobby said. "To you." He held up shot number four and tossed it back.

"Don't mention it," I gave a dismissive wave of my hand. "How is Mr. Stone fairing after last night?" I asked him, feigning concern. "He seemed a bit upset when we spoke on the phone this morning. Is he alright?"

"Whaddya mean, love?" Bobby slurped the last drops of liquor from one of the shot glasses.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I thought he must be upset about what happened to Parker. Maybe he felt a little guilty for arguing with him all afternoon before…before Parker died." I searched Bobby's face for any hidden reaction.

Bobby flicked a sideways glance at Jared, and for a moment he looked stone sober. Sober and afraid. The look was gone a second later. Bobby shrugged. "That was a tough blow for you and yours, I'm sure," he admitted. He lifted his next shot high in the air. "To Parker."

"To Parker," Tony and I echoed, taking sips of our own drinks. Candy was busy snorting another line under the table. I lifted my gaze to Jared and flinched. The bass player was staring at me, his expression severe. I was pushing my luck
. Time to drop the subject.
I gave Tony a gentle poke in the ribs, motioning for him to get up and let me out of the booth so I could head for the ladies' room. I really just wanted to escape Jared's evil eye.

I stared into the mirror in the restroom for several moments, collecting my thoughts. Glitter knew something about what happened between Shawn and Parker, but he was afraid to talk about it—at least, while Jared was around. Jared
had
followed them yesterday. Maybe he was supposed to keep Bobby quiet about something. But what? Perhaps I could approach Bobby again when Jared wasn't around. For now, though, I'd have to back off.