Pecan Pie and Deadly Lies (An Adams Grove Novel) (2 page)

“Are you excited about starting school?” Riley asked.

“Yeah! It’s going to be so cool. I’m going to put all this stuff in my lunch box.”

Kasey slid into the driver’s seat. “Where will you put your lunch?” She glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

“I’ll put this in the backpack Aunt Riley gave me. Then I can have lunch in my lunch box.” His head bobbed as he planned. “That’ll be good.”

Sometimes he looked so serious that it was hard to believe he was just five. A tap on the driver-side window glass startled Kasey. It was Scott.

She pressed the button to lower the window. “Great parade. You’re a good waver.”

“Thanks. They give us a lesson on proper parade waving. I got an A.” He winked at Jake.

“I waved to you!”

“I saw you, buddy.” Scott nodded to Riley, and patted Kasey on the arm.

“Mr. Scott.” Jake lifted his bag. “The parade was so fun. Look at all this stuff.”

Scott leaned his forearms on the window opening. “Adams Grove has the best parades in the world.”

“We all enjoyed it. I got some really good pictures too,” Kasey said.

Scott glanced down at his watch. “Can I talk you into letting me come over and cook you lovely ladies burgers on your grill tomorrow for lunch?”

He hadn’t bothered to put her in the position of cooking a meal for him since that bad Crock-Pot incident.

Jake yelled from the backseat. “Cheeseburgers!”

“Of course,” Scott said. “Is there any other kind?”

You know Jake’s “like” buttons.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Jake chanted.

“Sounds like a yes to me,” Scott said.

“Not for me. I’ll be heading back to Virginia Beach, but thanks for the offer,” Riley said.

“So, the three of us? Tomorrow?” Scott looked hopeful.

Kasey was reluctant, but Jake was already excited and it would be the day before his first day of school. “How can I say no?”

“You can’t. I’ll see you later.” He gave a thumbs-up to Jake, then hesitated and for a second Kasey got the feeling
he might lean in and kiss her. She held her breath and leaned back in her seat.

Scott stepped back from her car. “Have a safe drive home, Riley.”

“I will.” Riley waved as Kasey started the car and backed out of the parking spot.

“I thought he was going to—”

Kasey stopped Riley midsentence. “I thought so too. Sometimes he tries to sneak that stuff in out of the blue.”

“Out of the blue for you, maybe. He’s nice, and he really likes you. What’s wrong with that?”

Kasey motioned toward the backseat. “Little parrots,” she said in a singsongy voice.

Riley nodded. “Got it. Later.”

Jake hummed as he dug around in his bag of goodies.

This was the most traffic she’d ever encountered in Adams Grove. Usually it only took a few minutes to get back out onto the main road, but today it took two cycles of the stoplight. Once Kasey turned onto Route 58 it was back to smooth sailing the rest of the way to her turn onto Nickel Creek Road.

The corn was so high on either side of the road that it was like driving through a tunnel to the house. The tassels on the large ears were browning, a sign they were beginning to dry out and would be harvested soon. Last year, she and Jake had sat outside on the front porch swing and watched the local farmers harvest late into the night as they tried to get the crop in before the rain. Hopefully, they’d have more cooperative weather this year. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to let Jake stay up that late now that he’d be going to school, and pulling him away from the sight of tractors and combines in action was nearly impossible.

As soon as she pulled the car into the driveway Shutterbug, their yellow Lab, bounced up and down on the other side of the fence, and welcomed them with her high-pitched hello bark. The little butterball of a puppy Scott had given Jake last year was now nearly eighty pounds of lean and lanky muscle.

“That dog is in perpetual motion,” Riley said.

“Compared to Von’s basset hound, I bet Shutterbug looks twice as crazy to you, but that’s fine with me. At least she can keep up with Jake. I swear that child has more energy than a hummingbird on sweet tea.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I know. I think Scott’s mom is rubbing off on me with all those Southernisms. Sometimes living here feels like another planet.”

“Your prim and proper Grandma Emily would die if she heard you talk like that.”

“Grem practically dies every time I talk to her anymore. I never realized she was such a fussbudget until the last few years. If I’m still in the will it’ll be a shock.”

“I remember her giving me a lecture about not going out without my toenails painted when we were in your backyard at the pool one summer. Scarred me for life. I still can’t stand to have my toes naked anymore. Her voice haunts me.” Riley pressed her lips together in a tight line. “You know she loves you in her own special way.”

“You mean her own special old crabby way.” Kasey turned and looked over the seat. “Need help with all your stuff?” “No, ma’am.” He unlatched the seat belt and waited just like she’d taught him for the okay to open the car door. “I’m ready.”

She took her keys from the ignition. “Let’s go.”

Still clutching his Piggly Wiggly bag, he jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. “Can I go play with Shutterbug, Mom?”

“Sure. I’ll get us something to drink and meet you out back.”

“Okay.” Jake ran full speed to the back gate. Shutterbug jumped in the air and then the two of them ran through the yard toward the swing.

Kasey’s thoughts drifted to Libby Braddock and her role in Jake’s abduction. Thank goodness his captor had been good to Jake. In fact, Jake still talked about Miss Libby whenever Kasey pushed him on the swing. Other than the loss of his dad, which they were both still healing from, Jake didn’t seem any worse for wear.

Her own recovery wasn’t as complete. She wondered if it ever would be.

J
ust like on a hundred other nights, Cody Tuggle tossed his guitar to the roadie stage-left then made a dash for the makeshift dressing room. Nearly seventeen years ago this bar had felt like the big time. The funny thing was that after playing outdoor arenas in front of forty thousand screaming fans, he’d take this three hundred–seat joint any day of the week.

As soon as Cody was offstage the lights dimmed, and the noise from the crowd grew.

In the dressing room Cody tugged off his sweaty bandanna and turned the blow-dryer on his hair for some quick relief. With his free hand he tugged the snaps on his black Western short-sleeve shirt, peeled it off, and tossed it on the table. The cool setting felt good against his hot skin. He had the routine down to a science after all the touring he’d done. He guzzled a small bottle of water and tossed it into the recycling bin across the room.

He toweled off, combed his fingers through his hair, and put on a black T-shirt. The rest of the band came off and grabbed towels.

Cody dug into his duffel bag, only the bandanna he’d planned to wear wasn’t where he’d put it earlier. He hated it
when fans helped themselves to his stuff. He picked up the black Stetson he’d planned to wear after the show and put it on instead.

The crowd cheered, chanting for more so loudly that it sent a vibration through the whole space. In the dressing room, no one spoke. Everyone stayed in the zone, feeling the building excitement of their fans and getting ready to reenergize them one last time.

Pete, the lead guitarist, walked up to Cody. “Did you see your little Georgia Peach out there?”

Cody gave Pete an I-told-ya-so look. “Yeah. I told you she’d be back around as soon as we got close to Virginia.”

“Guess I owe you that twenty bucks. I thought she’d have moved on since she got married last year.”

“If she ever stops showing up, then something’s wrong.” Cody couldn’t recall her real name, although he’d known it once. They’d called her Georgia Peach for at least ten years running. That gal had been to every concert of theirs within day-trip drive of her home in Georgia since the year he cut his first number one song, “It’s a Tragedy.” When he released “A Mother’s Love” last year and it went straight to number one, everyone knew he’d written that song about Kasey and Jake, but Georgia Peach had sent him a note saying the words must have been from God to him just for her. Some said his Georgia Peach was crazy, but he knew she was just a superfan having a good time. For some reason his music connected with her in a special way. Fans came in all shapes and sizes and all attitudes, and even after all these years he still appreciated every single one of them. His security took care of the downright crazy ones.

If there was one thing Momma had taught him well, it was that if he ever got the chance to make a living as a musician it would be because of something more than just talent. God had a plan and he’d been fortunate enough to be given a gift he loved, that he felt duty bound to share. Music was his vehicle, but the fans were his fuel.

The homegrown rhythm of hands and feet stomped out a mantra for more. They had to know he’d be back for an encore. After all, he hadn’t sung his signature song yet. He wished he’d kept count of how many times he’d sung “It’s a Tragedy” over the years. That song never got old.

The band was packed in the small backstage area like shoppers waiting to get in on Black Friday. Some of his peers wouldn’t dream of playing in a small joint like this, but it wasn’t about the money or the ego, it was about the people—sharing the music and making memories.

Pete led the band members back on stage and hit those few well-known chords.

Cody stood just offstage as the crowd grew louder in response to it, then gave the nod. The lights hit the stage at exactly the same moment he did. Sometimes the way that cheering swirled louder, it felt like they’d lift him right off his feet.

He pushed past the lump in his throat to sing. The fans knew every word and when he pushed the microphone toward them, they filled in the blanks.

“Come on, y’all.” He clapped his hands over his head and watched the audience turn into a human kaleidoscope as he sang. “That’s right, Maryland.” He sang, “Call it a legacy.” Then shouted, “Sing it with me.”

He waved the microphone toward the crowd and they finished the verse.

“You can call it heredity. But to the child caught in the middle…
it’s a tragedy
.”

A woman to the far left of the crowd caught his eye. From a distance it looked like Lou, or maybe it was just the way she was standing. He stepped back as Pete moved to the spotlight for the guitar solo, but when Cody glanced over where the woman had been standing, she was gone.
Probably my imagination. Not likely she’d be in Maryland anyway.
Unlike some of the fans, Lou was more of a two-hour max kind of concert-goer, unless he flew her in.

Georgia Peach swayed to the music with her arms overhead, offbeat from the rest of the folks and wearing a grin that said she didn’t really care.

The song came to an end and she and the rest of the crowd exploded into applause.

“Y’all keep that love in your heart. Thanks for coming out.” Cody jogged backstage, then straight to his bus.

He knocked twice and the door opened. “You got company,” the driver said with a nod toward the living area.

Cody stepped up and saw Arty Max sitting on his couch holding a Scotch.

Unexpected.
“Hey, man.” Cody shook Arty’s hand and dropped onto the other end of the couch. “Didn’t know you were going to be here tonight. Did you catch the show?” He took off his hat and set it aside.

“Most of it. Sounded good.”

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about coming up to the house for the party. You didn’t give me an answer.”

“Yeah, I did. I told you I’ve got plans.”

“Okay, so you didn’t give me the answer I wanted to hear.”

Nothing new there.
“That’s why you’re here?”

“Yeah, I’m harder to say no to in person.”

Not for me.
“Can’t do it. I’ve been on the road for twenty-one straight days. As soon as I get through this week I’m taking a few days for all of us to recharge before we head to Texas to shoot the commercial. Then it’s back to the house to finish up the new release.”

“You wouldn’t have worked twenty-one straight days if you hadn’t tucked all these little podunk gigs in between the real concerts.” Arty hated it when Cody took it upon himself to add these small gigs between the scheduled arena dates, but that was a pill he’d just have to swallow as part of the ride. Small price for the payoff he’d earned from being Cody’s agent for the last seventeen years.

“Don’t start.” Cody raised a hand. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t make it.”

“Come on, man. If you’re at the party it’ll bring in more press.”

“You know I don’t like that stuff.” Cody poured a glass of water and gulped about half of it.

“No, but Dustin Barnes could use the extra attention that having you there would bring.”

“So, that’s what this is about. Your new kid on the block.”
Of course there was more to it. Always was with Arty, but then that’s why Arty had done so well for himself over the years.

“Making an appearance wouldn’t kill you. You’ll like Dustin. He reminds me a lot of you when you were just getting started.”

Now they were getting to the crux of the matter. Arty wanted him to boost the new solo act he’d just signed. Next he’d be asking Cody to let Dustin open for him. “Sorry, man. Send Dustin my best. I’ll make it up to him some other time.”

“You’re killin’ me.” Arty leaned forward. “Don’t you remember when you cut your first record?”

“I haven’t forgotten that. Can’t do it this time though.”

The bus door opened and this time Annette walked in. She’d been on the payroll for more than five years now and Cody wasn’t sure how he’d get along without her handling all the PR and media stuff. She could do damage control better than anyone he’d ever met, and she’d learned pretty quickly to ignore Arty, which was something he’d never seen anyone else get away with.

She looked surprised when she saw Arty sitting there. “Hey, Arty. You should have told me you were coming. I’d have made sure you got the royal treatment you love so much.”