Contents ( 83)
- Contents
- Author’s Note
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Afterword
- About the Author
A to B to Z …
Dance cocked her head. “That’s not all it’s used for.”
Chapter 62
FINALLY, KAYLEIGH TOWNE was back in her own house, her sanctuary.
If only for a few hours. Alicia had texted that she wanted to see her about some matters having to do with the concert but she didn’t want to meet her at Bishop’s house.
I hear you there, sister. And when Alicia suggested they meet at Kayleigh’s she readily agreed. Darthur Morgan had driven her back here and then he’d collected his own car and said good-bye.
“Tell you, ma’am: been real good working with you.”
“Still ‘ma’am,’ after all we’ve been through?”
“That’s right, Kayleigh ma’am.” And he’d cracked what she believed was his first smile.
She laughed and hugged him, which he responded to stiffly but with good humor.
Then he’d driven away and Kayleigh was alone. But the relief she felt because Edwin wasn’t really a dangerous stalker was fading and ill ease seeped in to replace it—which had nothing to do with the events of the past few days and those horrible people using her as an excuse to kill the congressman.
No, it was a discomfort that struck closer to home.
Hey, lookit the good news, KT. The bad guys’re dead and Edwin’s out of the picture. So, no more talk about canceling any concerts….
Why hadn’t she said no to her father? Just insisted that they cancel? Didn’t he get that danger wasn’t the reason she didn’t want to go ahead with the concert? It wasn’t even that Bobby was dead, that Sheri’d nearly died…. She just plain and simple didn’t want to get up onstage.
I’m not Superwoman, Daddy.
Your goals aren’t my goals.
Why was he so oblivious to that? The whole Industry was a huge bulldozer, pushing forward, forward, and if somebody got crushed—Bobby’s life, Kayleigh’s joy—so what? It was unstoppable.
No, of course Bishop Towne didn’t get that. All he got was that Kayleigh had to make money, had to feed her staff and family, had to feed the voracious fans, had to keep the record label and promoters happy.
And, she suspected, keep the memory of Bishop Towne alive—even among younger people who’d never heard him sing, hell, never heard of him at all.
And screw his daughter’s own peace of mind.
Screw what mattered most to her, just having a simple life.
Hm, she reflected. “A Simple Life.” Not a bad song title. She wrote it down, a few other phrases. Then she glanced at her watch. Alicia wasn’t due for another half hour. Kayleigh walked upstairs to her bedroom.
Through her mind went a verse from the now infamous “Your Shadow.”
You sit by the river, wondering what you got wrong,
How many chances you’ve missed all along.
Like your troubles had somehow turned you to stone
And the water was whispering, why don’t you come home?
Oh, what a time that had been, just sixteen, missing her mother so terribly, missing her baby, her father, just out of jail for the car accident, pressuring her to appear at some of his shows and launch her own career, which she wasn’t even sure she wanted. Overwhelmed, depressed. She’d driven to Yosemite by herself, gone hiking. And suddenly everything was too much for her. She’d looked down at the clear river and walked into it, on impulse. No plans, not really intending to hurt herself—or maybe she had been. Kayleigh didn’t know then and she didn’t know now. A minute later another hiker had plucked her out and sped her to the hospital. She was in danger more of hypothermia than drowning but not even much threat of that.