Music City (8 page)

“No, I work for a private detective agency. In fact, one of my bosses is here, come on, I’ll introduce you to him first.”

Brandy wasn’t sure she wanted to meet all of these people, but Tracy certainly was persuasive, not to mention mind-numbingly handsome, so she tentatively took his outstretched arm and let him lead her around the pool to the small group that was gathered near the bar. Tracy grinned at his sister and nodded to his new friend, “Vani, I don’t believe you’ve met Mila’s friend, Brandy? Brandy, this is my sister Vani, and this is my boss—well, one of my bosses, Derek.”

Vani smiled and offered Brandy her hand, “Hi Brandy, it's very nice to meet you. Mila did a fantastic job, I’m very excited to have her on board.”

Brandy smiled and blushed a little when she shook her hand. Vani had to be the most stunning woman she had ever seen in her life. Her long blonde hair was straightened perfectly, and even though the party started hours ago, there wasn’t a single strand of hair out of place on Vani’s head. She was intimidating in her four-inch heels and tailored dress that was a mixture of red and orange that Brandy just couldn’t put her finger on—it was a strong look. Brandy realized Vani was still looking at her, expecting a response, so she stammered, “Uh... Er... Oh, yes, she did. She's—we're so happy to be here.”

Derek offered his hand, “It's nice to meet you, Brandy, it’s always a pleasure to meet a beautiful woman. I have to say, I was blown away by your friend's performance.”

Brandy blushed, and then coughed to cut off a giggle. “It’s nice to meet you too.” She wondered briefly if there was any average looking people in Tracy’s life.

Vani fingered the scarf that Brandy had around her
hips, “Oh goodness, I just love this scarf, wherever did you find it?” Vani gushed.

Brandy blushed as red as
in the scarf. “Oh, um, I bought it at Goodwill.” She said as she put her head down to hide her embarrassment.

Instead of the awkward silence Brandy was expecting, Vani said, “Oh my gosh, which one? I bet the one on Gallitan, they have some great stuff.”

Brandy was floored. “Actually I picked it up at the one on Charlotte—you shop at Goodwill?”

Vani laughed, “I shop
everywhere.”

Tracy added, “She drives us nuts if she sees a yard sale when we’re out driving, we have to stop if she even imagines she sees something she has to have. It’s an addiction,
or something.”

Brandy visibly relaxed just a bit. “I love your dress, I’ve been trying to figure out if it’s red or if it’s orange.”

Vani beamed. “Isn’t it great? It’s a Vera Wang. She calls this color tomato and it actually is a complicated blend of red, pink and orange. I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on it,” she said, as she spun around, showing off the dress. The back was open, with two straps crossing over each other, then attaching at the low cut backline.

Brandy smiled, “It’s gorgeous, I immediately thought that it was tailor made for you.”

Vani was ecstatic that someone was actually as interested in fashion as she was and cut Brandy off mid-sentence, “It does doesn’t it? The secret is the stretch fabric.” Vani demonstrated the elasticity of the fabric by pulling on the dress that seemed molded to her stomach. The fabric stretched out a few inches from Vani’s body. “See, like magic, it goes back, giving it that tailored look,” she said as she let go of the fabric and it indeed formed itself snugly back to fit Vani’s flat stomach. “The best part is I acquired this beauty for sixty bucks on clearance!”

Brandy was impressed and she instantly liked Vani. She made her feel comfortable and she definitely had an amazing sense of style. The conversation flowed and the line of Brandy’s shoulders softened as she relaxed at Tracy’s side. He noticed with a smile. She laughed at the stories and jokes being told, but she couldn’t resist stealing a look at Tracy every time she had a chance. He was just so handsome and he seemed so normal for someone who
was raised in the lap of luxury.

The party at Shelly’s house was winding down. Vani was walking Derek around the pool, hesitant, it seemed, to say goodbye. Tracy took his time as well, as he walked Brandy back to the guest house. As they reached the veranda, Brandy’s hand started to reach for his but then stopped and pulled back. Instead, she brushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled at him. “That was such fun, Tracy, thank you so much for talking me into joining the party. I haven’t seen Mila, though,
I wonder if she already went back to the cottage?”

“I saw her earlier with Cr...” Tracy’s words were lost in the scream that came from inside of the cottage.

Brandy looked at Tracy in alarm, “That’s Mila!” With her heart in her throat, she ran for the cottage door.

“Wait! Let me go in first!”

Tracy pushed the door open just as another scream sounded. The cottage was dark, except for the lone candle on the table beside the couch in the great room. Brandy reached for the light switch. “Mila! Mila! Mila, where are you?”

As the light came on, a disheveled Craig Hall tried to push past Tracy to get out the door. Tracy grabbed Craig by the arm and pushed him against the wall, surprising Craig with his strength. “What is going on here?”

“Get your hands off of me, pretty boy. I was only here at that little tease’s invitation. Seems like she talks the talk but she don’t walk the walk, so don’t you worry none, I’m outta here!” Craig pushed his way through the cottage door.

“Mila, Mila, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“It’s okay, Mila, he’s gone.”

Mila was wiping the tears from her eyes, and straightening her dress.

“I’m fine, really, I’m fine. It was all a misunderstanding. Please, Tracy, it really was. He said he wanted to see the cottage, said he didn’t understand why he hadn’t been invited to stay, that he just needed somewhere to chill out for a minute before he started home. It’s okay, I’m fine, really I am. Please don’t trouble your mother with this.”

The door opened again, and the three of them quickly looked up.

“What’s wrong?” asked Vani. “I’m pretty sure I heard a scream.”

Tracy gave Vani and Derek the quick version of what they had just walked in on and what Mila had just told them.

Vani looked at Mila, “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked.

Mila nodded. Derek asked, “Did you specifically say no to him Mila?”

Mila nodded again.

Tracy could tell by the way Vani was standing that she was livid, his sister always put her right hand on her hip when she was angry and continued to talk with her left hand.

Vani spoke again, “I need you to tell me exactly what happened, don’t be embarrassed and don’t leave anything out. I need to see if we need to bring formal charges against him.”

Derek was still standing in the doorway, he had watched Craig skulk off
in the direction of the front of the house where cars were parked with a tight frown on his face. After he was out of sight, Derek moved inside the room, his eyes studying the obviously shaken girl in front of him. “For what it’s worth, as a former police officer, I agree.” he said.

After it was determined that Mila had indeed told Craig no several times, Derek and Tracy wanted charges to be brought, Mila did not.

Vani spoke up, “The publicity wouldn’t be good for Mila, there are those who will say it was her fault, you know how people are. Unfortunately, I think that my way of dealing with him might be the best avenue to take.”

Derek looked at Vani, “What do you mean, ‘your way’, what is better than turning the scumbag over to the cops?”

Tracy answered for her. “His career will be over. Once Vani dumps him, he won’t get a job in Nashville and he won’t find anyone else to represent him. Eventually he’ll leave and go back to where he came from.”

Vani shook her head, “Oh, I’ll speed the process along a little more than that, anything that is scheduled will be canceled. I'll give him a bus ticket and tell him if he doesn’t want me to sue him for breaching the moralities clause in his contract, he’ll take the ticket and be gone within a day or two.”

Derek looked at Vani in amazement, “Remind me never to make you angry, ever.”

Vani met his gaze head on, then turned him towards the door and began shuffling him out, sharing a meaningful look with Tracy, silently asking him to stay with M
ila and make sure that she was okay. As she crossed the threshold, she caught Brandy’s eye. “My cell is always on.”

Brandy nodded with a grateful smile and turned towards her friend, grasping her shaking hands and enveloping her in a hug. Tracy exhaled loudly and declared that he would make them some nice hot Earl Grey tea. Brandy felt better when Mila burst out in a giggle as he headed towards the kitchen.

In a small town in North Carolina, Dorothy Thompson sat slumped in a corner of her old couch. The beer she was nursing sloshed out of its can and all over her hand. She wiped it on the arm of the couch; it was already filthy, what did a few more drops of beer matter? The television was broken, and had been for months, so she flipped the switch on the old portable radio that sat on a water-ring-stained wooden end-table at the end of the old couch.

Dottie was tired. It was wash day, and though she’d searched through the couch cushions for change, she had not found a dime. A dime wouldn’t get her very far in the laundromat down the road, anyway, but the laundromat would have been better than washing BJ and Billy’s filthy jeans by hand on that old washboard. Hanging them on the line wasn’t so bad, but then there was the ironing. Dottie was not just tired, she was worn out. Her back hurt
, her feet hurt, her head hurt and her heart hurt.

Billy
, her partner for the last twenty some years, expected his jeans to be ironed, he expected his supper on the table when he walked in the door, he expected an ice cold beer to accompany his meal, he expected a clean house and the list went on and on.  Billy Joe Thompson expected more than Dottie could ever give. Billy Joe Junior, BJ for short, just recently turned twenty, was a carbon copy of his pa.

Billy got BJ that job down at the Quick
ie Lube and they both worked as mechanics. It was a contest to see who could come home with the most oil and grease on his clothes. Still, in this day and age, she was thankful they had jobs to begin with. Dottie had worked at the mill in town for several years, made good money, too, but it sold out about the same time a lot of small businesses closed their doors. Dottie found herself laid off, without a job and with a back problem that ached like the dickens. Money was scarce, but somehow Billy and BJ always had enough for beer. Dottie took another deep swallow of hers. The beer helped relax her aching back a bit.

Music played softly on the radio, the woman who was singing soothed Dottie’s soul
making the beer go down easy. Since the clothes were on the line, she idly picked up an old copy of the celebrity magazine she had lifted from the laundromat the last time she was there. There on the cover was a glossy photo of that Nashville star, Shelly Shepard. Dottie had seen her picture before, she looked so familiar. It was Shelly singing on the radio now. But Shelly Shepard was nobody that Dottie knew, she was from Nashville, not a rinky dink mill-town in North Carolina.

Dottie flipped the magazine over to the story that
was written about Shelly. There, right there. That picture looked so much like the only picture Dottie had of her mother, if you could imagine Maye without wrinkles, yellow-stained teeth and dark circles under her eyes. She thought about her mother for a minute, long gone now. Maye Taylor was a drunk... she had disappeared when Dottie was very small and she had heard only bad things about her.

She, herself,
was raised by a cousin. None of Maye’s kids or relatives ever really knew who any of the daddies were, so when Maye disappeared, her kids were parceled out by the state to whoever would take them.

Dottie knew she had two older brothers and an older sister, but she had no idea where they were, she didn’t even know who they were. But somewhere in her memories, Dottie could remember being sung to sleep by an angel. Sometimes Dottie would hear a song on the radio and she would
get goose bumps all over her body. She seemed to know the voice, seemed to remember it, but she could never quite figure out why.

The front door banged open and Dottie
stood up. The beer that she held spilled over her hand again. Billy Joe came first, and then came her son, BJ, who walked straight to the kitchen. Billy stood in the middle of the room hands on his hips glaring at her, “How much money we got?” he asked.

“
I don’t know.  I’d have to check…why, what’s wrong? What are you doin’ home so early, it’s just past noon ain’t it?”

“Quick
ie Lube’s a closin’. Ain’t enough business to keep it runnin’. Them bigwigs sent word up from Texas a sayin’ to close it down. Me an’ BJ was the first to be let go,” he shook his head, “I ain’t got no idea ‘bout what to do, Dot. I figured this’d be the last job I’d ever have to find, figured I’d be there ‘til I died.  There ain’t no more jobs out there.”

He glanced at the magazine that showed Shelly Shepard’s photo on the cover. “
Huh, just look at that. Looks an awful lot like that picture you got hangin’ in our bedroom, what was it you called it, your glamour shot? She’s a sight prettier, though. Who is it?” He asked as he picked up the magazine to examine it more closely.