Trapped Under Ice (4 page)

Beth was about to tell the singer he didn’t need to call, but then realized she wanted him to.
After all,
she reasoned,
who wouldn’t want to hear Chad Evans’s voice in the morning
? She laughed to herself, and then adjusted the rearview mirror. She caught sight of him in the glass, trailing Pete and Dante as they walked back toward the stadium, his head down. She noticed, for the first time, he was only wearing a t-shirt. Even though the December evening was mild, he still must have been freezing. As she watched, he turned to glance back one last time before her car left the parking lot. That was the image she was left with as she fell asleep.

***         

A few minutes after nine, the red light on the phone lit up, the ringing ultra-loud in the still room. Beth fumbled with the receiver and tried to sound as if she’d been up rather than lying there hitting the snooze button.

“Hello?” Chad’s voice was husky as if he had just woke up, too. She bet Roger was right about his having to borrow an alarm clock.

“Good morning.”

“Hi. I just wanted to see how you were doing this morning?”

She tried to sit up, but her aching head forced her back down. “I’m fine,” she lied.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound fine?”

Was it that obvious? “My head hurts a little, but I’m sure it’s nothing an aspirin won’t solve.”

“We should have taken you to the hospital last night and had you checked out.”

It occurred to her that maybe he wasn’t really worried about her well-being; maybe he was worried about a lawsuit. She tried to tell herself she didn’t know the man at all; she was fooled into thinking she knew him by what may or may not be revealed in his lyrics or in magazine articles. Whatever she felt about Chad Evans, it was driven more by lust and imagination than by anything real.

“Honestly, I’m fine.”

“Okay,” he conceded, sounding unconvinced. “If you’re interested, I could leave tickets for you at the will call window for Saturday night’s show?”

She thought about it. Another bid to ward off a lawsuit? She drummed her fingers on the mattress. What did she care? Free tickets were free tickets, and after how much she enjoyed last night’s show, how could she resist? They planned on going home Saturday morning, but why not extend the visit another day? She knew Cassie wouldn’t mind. “Sure. That would be great.”

Chad tried to figure out why he had called her. Why he had set an alarm to get up,
so
out of character for him, and call a woman he hardly knew. All he understood was her face, her eyes, swam before him all night. She was not like the women he was usually with, or more accurately, the girls. She had a self-confidence he found attractive, and at the same time, he sensed a vulnerability he was also drawn to. Like his frequent one-night stands, he could tell she was into him, but she still had the self-respect not to throw herself at him. She was witty and smart without having the edge those qualities sometimes gave people; her intelligence was tempered with a certain sweetness.

And all this you gathered from spending less than an hour with her in the same room
, he chided himself.
It couldn’t just be that she was gorgeous, now could it?
Yet he knew there had to be some other reason he couldn’t get her out of his head.

“So,” he added subtly, “should I leave a ticket for your husband, too, or is he not a Trapped Under Ice fan?”

There was an awkward silence for several seconds, and he was about to kick himself for being such a bonehead until she spoke quietly. “I don’t know if you would say Paul was exactly a fan…but he grew to like you guys over time. He passed away three years ago.”

“Oh, Beth. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked—”

“No, no. In three years a person should...” She didn’t complete her thought. There was a strained silence while she presumably sought to control her emotions and Chad continued to berate himself. “Anyway,” she continued with what sounded like forced cheerfulness, “we’d love tickets.”

“Okay. And I want you to know, security will be heightened around here”—he had thought about this all night—“and I could have Pete pick you up and drive you if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. Maybe I’ll see you Saturday then.”

Beth said goodbye and hung up the phone, staring at the ceiling. She almost jumped out of her skin when Cassie asked from the adjacent bed, “Was that Chad Evans?”

“I thought you were asleep.” Beth tried to still her heart and after a moment was able to reply evenly, “As a matter of fact, it was.”

Cassie sat up on one elbow. “Listen to you, all cool, calm, and collected. You’d think you’d been rubbing elbows with the rich and famous all your life. Like you’re not absolutely thrilled Chad Evans just called you.”

Beth giggled from her bed and launched a pillow in
Cas’s direction. “You just be quiet, you.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The trip to the police station did not turn out to be nearly the ordeal Beth thought it would be. In fact, the officers were so efficient she and Cassie were in and out of there in less than thirty minutes. This gave the pair ample time for a relaxed lunch at Ted and Nancy’s, a restaurant in their hotel, before their preconcert practice. They changed after lunch and headed to the Old Cathedral, located just across the street.

The weather had turned decidedly colder overnight. Beth could feel the wind as it swirled around her legs and under her dress. She was actually glad for the choir robe she carried, as it offered some additional protection from it. As they waited at the stoplight, big, fat snowflakes began to fall from the sky.

“Boy, if that doesn’t make it feel like Christmas, I don’t know what will.”

“You’re right,” Cassie responded. The snow began falling thicker and faster.

Beth giggled as they hurried across the street. “It’s like being in your own personal snow globe.” She looked up and let the flakes pepper her hair and eyelashes. As she lowered her head, she took in the view of the Old Cathedral as it was nestled at the foot of the world-famous Gateway Arch. It was even more breathtaking than she remembered. In the midst of towering skyscrapers, it seemed to be in a time warp. Built around 1831, it had all the charm of a bygone era.
Like something stolen right out of a lithograph
, she thought.

Nudged by Cassie, she pulled her hood up against the cold and hurried forward.

“Brrrr.” Cassie shivered as the two stood stomping their high heels in the foyer of the church. Her voice echoed against the walls hollowly.

When Beth followed her through the heavy outer doors, the heady smell of pine boughs greeted her like an old friend. As they walked through the second set of doors, she lowered her hood and gazed around in wonder. The whole basilica was festooned with live wreaths, garland, and bright red bows. Unlike other churches, the windows were clear glass, but were no less majestic. The walls were a cream color with panels of pale blue, and the pewter light fixtures had an organic theme, decorated with either flowers or leaves. Instead of a three-dimensional cross, a huge mural of the Crucifixion was painted behind the otherwise plain altar.

“Right this way, ladies,” the older man who ran the choir called to them grumpily.

Beth tore her eyes from the architecture and hustled to take her place, along with a few other stragglers, as the organist began.

Two hours later, the church was packed as she stood to do her solo. Ordinarily she would have been petrified, but it helped she was singing one of her favorite carols, “Mary, Did You Know?” She squeezed her eyes together and began to sing, praying she wouldn’t end up crying like she always did when she listened to the lyrics. While she sang, the room was stilled. People stopped shifting in their crowded seats, coughs were hushed, and the only thing that seemed to exist for those few moments was her voice. Many of the listeners seemed moved by her singing, and as the last note hung in the air, she opened her eyes and let them travel across the room until they stopped abruptly at a figure she recognized.

Chad stood leaning against a column in the back, appearing mesmerized by her singing. She was so stunned to see him that she almost swallowed the last note, but she hung on and gratefully stepped back into her place among the others when the song was finished. The applause hadn’t abated when she turned back around to face the audience, and when she again searched, she saw him clapping with the others. He wore tan pants and a dark brown leather jacket. Snow still glistened in his hair and on his shoulders, so he must have stepped in just in time to hear her song. She was thankful she did not spot Chad beforehand, or the butterflies in her stomach would have been ten times worse.

When the concert was over, she shook hands in haste with the people around her, then rushed to hang up her choir robe as the crusty old choir leader directed. Cassie, who also seemed to have spied Chad, offered to carry it for her. Beth headed down the long aisle to where the singer still stood at the back of the church. He let the others file past him and waited for her behind the last row.

She smiled up at him. “You came.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. I wanted to see for myself how you were doing. How’s the bump on your head?”

She reached up to rub it without thinking as she responded. “It’s much bet—” She furrowed her brow. “How did you know I had a bump on my head? Did Cassie say something?”

“No, no. I noticed you holding your beer bottle against it last night, and wincing. May I?”

Before she could answer, he reached over and felt the back of her head. His nearness flustered her. He smelt fresh, like the outdoors. For a guy with big hands, his touch was surprisingly gentle.

His eyebrows came together. “Oooh. It’s still pretty big.”

“It’s actually gone down quite a bit.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t have a doctor look at that?”

“Yeah. It’s just a bump. I never lost consciousness or threw up, so it’s not a concussion.”

He laughed. “You speak as if you know from experience.”

“Well, ten plus years with an athletic girl like Cassie, and you’re bound to pick up a few things in the E.R. Speaking of which”—she turned and spotted her daughter—“here comes my little angel now.”

Cassie sauntered toward them with a giggling teenaged girl on either side of her. “See, I told you it was Chad Evans.”

“Hi, ladies.”

While one of the girls continued to say, “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh,” over and over again, the second asked him to autograph her program.

A smile rose to Beth’s lips, until she wondered,
Is that what I look like
?

Cassie interrupted her thoughts. “Mom, Jean’s parents asked if I would like to go ice-skating at Forest Park with a group of girls, and then go out for pizza and a late show. Can I?” Cassie peered at her with the eyes that scored her permission for such things on many an occasion as she handed Beth both choir robes.

“Well, I guess so.”

“I’m sure you could come, too. Although I’m not sure if there’s enough room in their van...”

“Oh, Cas, I don’t think I should be going anywhere close to a pair of ice skates with this bump on my head. But you go ahead. I’ll be fine. I’ll just relax and read, or something.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She blew Beth a kiss, halfway down the aisle with her friends already.

“Well, goodbye, then.” She laughed, knowing her daughter was well out of hearing range. She turned back to Chad. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No, no. It’s okay.”

“So”—she turned to leave the church with him—“are you staying near here? I promise not to tell any of them,” she added, gesturing to the gaggle of girls with Cassie.

His lips turned up at the corners. “No, actually. We’re out in Chesterfield.”

“Chesterfield? That’s a long haul from the stadium.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the point, I guess. To keep the ‘crazed fans’ from finding us.”

“Oh, but now you’ve gone and told me, and as we established last night, I’m a crazed fan,” she joked. “So, where is Pete lurking?”

“Well, he and I have sort of an agreement. Sometimes I need my space and he respects that, so he’s taking the day off.”

She nodded. “Which way did you park?”

“I didn’t actually,” he replied vaguely.

“Then how did you get down here?” As they started to cross the street, a driver laid on his horn and gestured to another driver in a very unflattering way.

“Well, I didn’t want to bring the tour bus down here in all this mess.” He indicated the traffic. “So, I took a cab.”

She stopped walking to gaze up at him in astonishment. “You took a cab here from Chesterfield?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, gosh, that’s a long way. Why don’t you let me take you back? Do you have any shopping to do or anything?”

“No, I just came down to check on you and hear you sing, which was incredible by the way.”

“Well, thank you,” she responded, dropping her eyes and feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. “So, I’ll take you back, but do you have time for me to just go in and change quickly?”