On Tour (6 page)

"She's a real cutie pie," he continued. "She still's got all her own teeth, if you can believe it."

"Impressive."

He beamed.

"How are things with you and Uncle Grover?" Uncle Grover was Granddaddy's roommate and sometime sparring partner.

Granddaddy's face clouded over. "He's crampin' my style. Can't bring Margaret over for a visit 'cause of that darn dog of his. Margaret's allergic to 'em."

"That's a shame."

Granddaddy nodded. "Sure is! What if we were thinkin' 'bout gettin' friendly? Can't go to her place, 'cause she's got a roommate in a wheel chair. Woman never goes anywhere!"

Just the thought of Granddaddy "gettin' friendly" was making me queasy. "Well, I'd better get going now. I have practice at noon."

Granddaddy nodded. "Break a leg! Oh, and good joke on your mom. That was a real side-splitter!"

Yeah, hilarious.

"Marsha will be here in time for the dress rehearsal at seven."

"How nice." I wasn't happy with the prospect of spending oodles of quality time with her.

"Hey, she's doing us a favor." Mark shot me an exasperated look.

We were back at the villa. I was getting ready for practice, and Mark was on his way to meet with some contacts in Miami. He was going to pick up Marsha on his way back.

"You mean she's doing
you
a favor."

He pulled me roughly against him and planted a mind-numbing kiss on my mouth.

He whispered against my lips, "I guess I just have to keep doing this until you finally get the message. I love you. I'm not interested in Marsha."

My body hummed, and my mind flashed with images of the previous night. "I don't have a problem with that." It came out in almost a purr.

He laughed and gave me a swat on the rear. "Don't leave the villa without Andre."

"There you are," Ashley called from the doorway, a frown on her face. "I've been looking all over for you."

"I suppose you have some more work for me to do."

"No," she said looking a little guilty. "I wanted you to be on the lookout for Mom. I kinda told her about the threatening letters."

I waved my hand. "No worries. Once I told her there was a hitman after me, she thought we'd played a trick on her."

"Huh, that must be why she sent me a text telling me I was a 'card.' I was surprised enough to get a text from her. When did she start texting?" Ashley put her hands on her hips.

"You know you look just like her when you do that."

Ashley scowled and dropped her hands to her sides.

"Anyway," I continued, "if you think Mom texting is a shocker, imagine my surprise when she FaceTimed me this morning while I was still in bed."

"Oh, no. I hate FaceTiming. It's bad enough that people can reach you every second of every day, but now I have to worry about looking crazy when I answer the phone."

"Preach it, Sista." I high-fived her.

I made a face as The Brethren descended on the porch like the merry band of pirates they were. "I guess it's back to work for me."

Carlos swept in behind them. Today he was wearing a white shirt open to the waist and a tattered pair of jeans. And, not to be missed, a wicked looking sword in a leather scabbard was strapped around his waist. "M'lady," he said with a bow. He took my hand. "I'm at your service. Andre has informed me there is a scalawag pursuing you. Rest easy, I am prepared." He patted the scabbard.

I shook my head and laughed. It was hard to stay annoyed with Carlos. He wasn't like most pirates I knew. And I'd seen him in action with a sword before. The Spider didn't want to tangle with him.

"I feel better already," I replied, picking up my guitar.

And I did. Practice went as smoothly as it could in the company of six pirates. At three, we called it quits and Carlos suggested we take the small red and white motor boat that came with the villa to a party at the "sandbar" before the dress rehearsal at seven. Sandbars occur naturally close to the coast line and in between small land masses at low tide, making them accessible to boaters. Usually boats anchored a few yards off the bar allowing partygoers to set up coolers and barbeques on the thin strips of sand.

Now, I'd been to my share of sandbar parties; the Chesapeake Bay had some awesome spots. But sandbar parties in the Keys took the experience to a whole new level. 

I looked out over the hundreds of boats moored off several dozen strips of white fluffy sand surrounded by crystal turquoise water. Because it was Pirate-Head week down here, there were two boats tricked out to look like pirate ships. One had cannon replicas poking from its hull. At least I thought they were replicas. These role players were serious about their hobby.

Ashley and I sat, contentedly sipping rum punch and eating Cheetos, in beach chairs half submerged in the bathtub temperature water.

"This is livin'," she said clinking her red cup to mine. "Except maybe for all these pirates." She waved her hand around. "I don't think I'd be hanging out with pirates if it didn't come with the job."

"I feel you." I watched as Carlos dove off the bow of the pirate boat in his little red Speedo.

"How weird is it that you ended up with a bunch of pirates?" Her words were a little slurred.

"Not exactly how I'd planned it," I agreed.

"At least you're making fat stacks."

I rolled my eyes. "Fat stacks, Ashley? How much have you had to drink?"

She made a little bit sign with her fingers. "Don't judge. I just spent thirty minutes on the phone with The Grands, refereeing an argument over Granddaddy getting enough 'quality time' with his new girlfriend. Uncle Grover refuses to leave their apartment with Honey-Bunny so Margaret can visit without sneezing herself to death."

"Hey, I already got roped into that conversation this morning."

"Well, then, of course," she continued, ignoring me, "I had to explain everything that was going on here. What we're doing today—blah, blah, blah." She rolled her eyes.

"You didn't say anything more about my situation, did you?"

"No, they'd just think I was playing a trick on them again. I had to hear all about that, too."

We sat in silence for a moment reflecting on the richness of having a large, close extended family.

"How's it going, ladies?" Andre asked stepping over to our little sliver of beach.

Ashley gave him a thumbs-up and guzzled her rum punch.

Andre raised a brow and sat down next to me. "Mark's been trying to call you. He's had some luck tracing the wire transfer."

"I left my phone in my bag. What'd he find out?" I asked, sitting up straight.

"The money ended up in an account in New Jersey. It hasn't been touched yet. They're just starting to work their way through the layers of corporations attached to the account."

I had to ask. "How much?"

"Three million." Andre shrugged. "Respectable."

I laughed. What else could I do? A crazy gangbanger had paid a hitman three million to kill me. "At least I'm not a cheap date."

"I can't believe some guy would pay three million bucks to bump you off. I mean you said it's because you're Mark's girlfriend and Carlos' partner. But really Mark was just doing his job, and it's not your fault Tyrell hates pirates and Carlos is the King of Pirates. Are you sure you didn't do something to piss him off yourself? Because you can be really annoying." Ashley gave me a drunken glare.

I stared at her. "I did nothing to Tyrell. He was trying to make Mark and Carlos suffer. It was payback for him and his brother. I'm an innocent bystander."

Ashley made a face. "Bystander maybe, but definitely not innocent."

Andre stifled a laugh. "We need to get back. There are more people here than I bargained for." Andre scanned the crowded waters.

"Was Mark on his way back with Marsha?"

Andre nodded.

"Great. Let the games begin," I sighed.

"Marsha's not so bad."

"Says the man with the hots for her," I shot back.

Andre gave me a wolfish grin. "I got a thing for redheads."

"Well, work quickly, will you? I need to keep her outta my man's life."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Look," Ashley pointed towards the gaggle of boats. "There's another pirate ship."

The cigarette boat was painted black. I couldn't quite make out the faces, but there were three guys on the deck of the boat. It looked like one had a pair of binoculars and was scanning the crowded sandbar.

I squinted. "That's weird."

"Get your things and get back on the boat," Andre ordered as he leapt up and ran over to Carlos and the gang.

Ashley made it on our small motor boat first. She scrambled for the binoculars. I was just pulling my leg over the side, when she squealed, "They're wearing masks, and they've got a gun on the deck."

I grabbed the binoculars away and peered through. Sure enough, something that looked like a machine gun was mounted to the deck. The boat had no markings. The three men on deck were wearing rubber pirate masks. The one with binoculars looked directly at me. Oops! I dropped the binoculars and leaned back against the fiberglass side. Maybe he hadn't seen me. Maybe they were just drug runners looking to make a deal.

A moment later one of them yelled into a loud speaker:

"Give us Diana Hudson, and we will leave you in peace."

Okay, so they were definitely after me.

The crowd went silent for a moment and then had erupted in laughter. That's the problem when dealing with a crowd of drunks; it was really hard to get them to take you seriously. I'd learned that the hard way playing in bars.

Ashley was unsteady on her feet in the rocking boat. "They're after you, Diana!"

I nodded.

"See, this is why people say you have bad karma."

I stared at her. "Now is not the time, Ashley."

"No, I think it is." She wagged her finger at me and took another sip of her drink. "It's only when you come face to face with your problems and deal with them head-on do you find resolution."

"Do tell," I replied sarcastically. Andre was still on the boat with Carlos. The crowd on the beach had gotten louder. We were effectively trapped on the boat. I had no choice but to listen to Ashley's lecture.

"Take me and Dan for example." She pointed to her chest. "I know I married a redneck with the manners of King Kong, but I was in love. A decade later, I'm feeling a little confined. When all this rock star stuff really started to happen for you, and we met Billy Prescott, it made me realize that there is more to life. I got a taste of what life could be."

I bit my tongue to stop myself from shooting back, "What you got was a taste of yummy Billy Prescott." But I restrained myself. Billy Prescott had been my first big break. I met the music star while he was filming the pilot for a television series in Rock Hall, Maryland. My band played backup for him for the pilot. Roger and Phil were his producers and liked what they saw so much that they invited me to L.A. to record three of my original songs including "The Rum Song." My sister had fallen hard for Billy and had come along for the adventure. I tried not to be judgmental. My sister had a momentary lapse of judgment in an otherwise pristine marriage. I wasn't even sure there had been any actual 'lapsing' going on, but the indictors were sure there.

"Did I hide from Dan? Sneak around? Turn into a big whiny bitch?"

She was waiting for an answer. "No to everything except the whiny bitch part," I said.

She gave me the finger and continued her soliloquy. "No, I didn't. I sat him down and told him how I was feeling. Do you know what he said to me?"

"No, but if you don't finish this story soon, I'm going to turn myself over to the hitmen so I don't have to hear any more."

She scowled at me. "He said, 'Ashley, I support you no matter what. If you wanna go off with your sis for an adventure, you've got my blessing. Just stop tryin' to change me. You ain't never going to change this country boy into a city slicker.'"

I was impressed with my brother-in-law. For all his redneck ways, he seemed to have a pragmatic outlook on life. "That sounds like a good answer."

"It was a great answer!" she sobbed.

"So why are you upset?"

"Because I wanted him to do something romantic! Throw me over his shoulder and carry me away. Profess his love."

"I think the best you can hope for is he writes your name in John Deere green on the water tower." My attempt at humor using a well-worn country ditty fell flat.

"You're joking, but that'd be fine with me. Anything to make me feel desired. And I'm not talking about sex." She sank moodily into the captain's chair.

Andre was dashing back across the sand. He hopped into our boat and went below, coming out with another pair of binoculars and wearing his holster over his tropical print shirt.

"I'm not sure that's going to be effective against a machine gun," I said, trying to lighten the mood as I crouched behind the low wall in the captain's area of the boat. He made no reply as he looked through the binoculars. Then he swore softly, saying, "They have an actual machine gun strapped to the deck, and there's no boat here that can outrun that cigarette boat."

"Shouldn't we call the Coast Guard or something?" I asked.

"I did, but it's going to take time for them to get here. Their helicopters are tied up right now."

The masked men repeated their request, more gruffly this time. One of them patted the machine gun to emphasize the point.

The crowd roared even louder this time, several of the rowdier drunks pantomiming salutes and yelling, "Aye, Aye, Cap'n."

One of the men seemed to be losing his cool. He gestured wildly to the other masked men, and then he ran over to the machine gun and sprayed the open water with bullets in an impressive display.

The party crowd cheered.

"Oh, God," Andre murmured. I followed his line of sight to find Carlos on the deck of one of the boats that had been converted into a pirate ship.

"Men!" yelled Carlos. "We must defend our position. Ready the six pounders!"

A chorus of "Aye, Aye's" rang out. I could see several of the The Brethren running around on the deck.