Baby Daddy (21 page)

I saw the manila folder, still lying on my bed.  I moved it to the desk, then pulled back my covers and rumpled my sheets and pillows so it looked like I had slept there.  My body was actually sore from the vigorous lovemaking and it felt wonderful to relax in a bubble bath while I re-lived last night and tried to decide what to do.

I walked downstairs, more determined than ever to come clean to Christopher about all my secrets.  I had to have faith that if it was meant to be, he’d understand and accept my decision…whatever that might be.

Everyone else except Christopher was sitting around the island, nursing large mugs of coffee.  They were all moving a little slower than usual, except for Liberty, of course, who was her cheeriest and most annoying in the morning.

There were two beautiful tables in the mansion, one big and formal which we had never used and the other smaller
one in the morning room.  We had never used either.  Somehow we had gotten into the habit of eating breakfast around the large granite island that divided the kitchen from the morning room, and it provided the perfect casual beginning for the day.

“It looks like
The Walking Dead
in here,” Christopher said when he joined us several minutes later.  I didn’t dare turn to look at him because I was afraid my emotions would be too obvious.

“Rough night,” Dallas mumbled.

“Should have gone to bed earlier,” Tulsa agreed.

“You don’t seem to be the worse for it,” Reno accused Christopher.

“I slept great,” Christopher exclaimed.  “Must be the bed.”

I felt my cheeks burn red
.  I leaned over and let my hair fall forward to hide my face as I focused on buttering my English muffin. I heard Christopher pull out a bar stool and sit down.

“What can I get you?” John asked us.

Those of us who hadn’t eaten gave him our requests, and he started cracking eggs on the griddle.  No one had cooked for me since I lived at home with my mother, and it felt a little decadent.  It was the best of both worlds because we had an excellent cook to handle the meals and a well-stocked refrigerator if we wanted a snack.  And no grocery shopping…ever.

I sneaked a look out from under the curtain of my hair and felt my heart skip a beat when I saw Christopher.  No matter how much time we spent together, he always had that effect on me.  His brown hair, still wet from the shower, looked darker and was neatly combed
back from his face.  I had never gone for bad boys, preferring instead the more preppy G.Q. look, and Christopher had that image down to a “T”.  He caught me looking at him and gave me a lazy wink.

John
placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the island, and we all helped ourselves.  After cleaning our plates and finishing off a third pot of coffee, we were ready to do our good deed of the day…help Christopher move out of his house.

Instead of all of us driving, we piled into the company van and headed to Bee Cave.  It turned out to be not as weird as it sounded.  Actually, it was
a very nice small town with a shopping mall and lots of restaurants.  Christopher’s house was a quaint cottage with a great view of the hill country.  We had dropped him off at a U-Haul dealer, then followed him up a hill to his house. 

We settled Liberty on a comfortable chair on the front porch where she could watch the action, but not get in the way.  The refrigerator and washer and dryer stayed,
which made Reno and Dallas very happy.  That left only a variety of mismatched furniture.  Clearly, Christopher hadn’t spent a lot of time and money decorating.  The place could have used a woman’s touch.  Hmm…I knew a woman who would love to help him pick out new furniture and drapes.  Not that I knew anything about either…but it would be fun to shop for him.

The men loaded the heavy furniture in the front of the truck
.  Tulsa and I covered it with thick, quilted pads, then started stacking boxes on top.  I was an expert Tetris player, so it became a challenge to fit the boxes together to form a solid wall.  Christopher had everything all packed, so we had the truck loaded in less than two hours.  Then we all pitched in to give the house a last thorough cleaning.  When we drove away, the cottage was ready and waiting for its new owners.

We drove back to Austin and unloaded all of Christopher’s things in an empty corner of the warehouse while Liberty checked on her kitten. 
We were hot and sweaty and ready to head back to the mansion.

“I’ll go get
Liberty,” I volunteered.  It was Saturday, so no one was in the office except for one agent I recognized as Joel who was in his office, doing research on the LexisNexis.  He was either very conscientious or highly suspicious.  Christopher said he had checked him out and wasn’t worried about him, but I wasn’t so sure.  Nevertheless, I waved at him as I passed his office, and he smiled and waved back.

Liberty’s office was empty.  I knew I hadn’t passed her, so I looked around and noticed there was a light on in the conference room.  What was she doing in there?

“Hey, we’re ready to go,” I told her as I stood in the doorway of the conference room.  “Is Eight okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine.”  Liberty was uncharacteristically distracted.  Usually, she loved talking about the little cat.  Instead, she had opened one of Roger’s boxes and had the contents spread out on the table.  “Shut the door.”

I was so surprised at the sharpness of her tone that I obediently stepped into the room and shut the door behind me.  “What is it?”

“I found this yesterday, and then when we went out to eat last night, I thought I recognized it.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked as I stepped closer.  I looked down at a piece of paper with the Galvez Hotel’s logo across the top.  The page was covered in notes and words, all in Roger’s distinctive half-cursive/half-printed style and appeared to be a song.  My gaze moved to the title…
I’ll Take Mine to Go
with Roger’s name and the date 1995 on it.

“That wasn’t Terry Roth’s song, was it?” Liberty asked
.

I shook my head.  A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, but there was only one obvious conclusion.  “He stole it.”

CHAPTER EIGH
TEEN

“Let’s take this with us and talk about it at the mansion,” I told Liberty a
s we quickly gathered the papers and put them back in the box.  I carried it as Liberty hobbled along behind.

We didn’t mention it as we followed Christopher back to the rental place where he left the truck
, then we headed home.  I kept the box with me as we all went our separate ways to shower and dress for a night on the town.  I wanted everyone to have clear minds when Liberty and I shared our suspicions.

Actually, I wasn’t quite sure what they were. 
So, he stole the song.  That didn’t mean he’d killed Roger, did it?  I wanted to talk to Christopher about it, but I didn’t dare go to his room right now.  Everyone would jump to the wrong conclusion.  Well…actually, it was the right conclusion, but the wrong time.

John had the barbecue pit going by the time I got back
downstairs.  I had washed my hair and it dried into loose curls that hung well past my shoulders.  I didn’t know what we’d end up doing tonight, so I had dressed in white capris and a sparkly top that hung off one shoulder.  Hopefully, Christopher would see all that bare skin and it would drive him wild…

Stop it, Killeen.  Stay on task.  You’ve got some very damning evidence that could have caused a murder.

I carried the box with me, unwilling to let it out of my sight now that I knew what was it in.

Reno handed me a Diet Coke on ice as I passed the bar.  I saw that everyone else already had a drink and w
ere nibbling on a spread of chips, bean dip and onion dip while waiting for the hot dogs and hamburgers to get done.

“Hey, everyone
! Liberty found something that I think we should talk about,” I called out.

“Before we eat?” Dallas protested.  For a lanky guy, he sure had a healthy appetite.

“It won’t take but a minute.  It could be really important.”

There was a little grumbling, but enough curiosity to bring everyone to the table.  I opened the box, then pushed it over to Liberty.  This was her find, and she deserved her moment of glory.

“Um…it’s just that last night when that Terry Roth guy sang the song that won the Grammy,” she stated, stammering slightly.  She was obviously not used to being the center of attention.  “Well, it kind of rang a bell.  It’s such an unusual title.”  She took the piece of handwritten music out of the box and placed it on the table.

Everyone crowded around and studied the document.

“How did Roger get a copy of that song?” Tulsa asked.

“A better question would be how did Terry get a copy of that song?” Christopher corrected.

“An even better question is…would someone kill someone because of a song?” Reno pointed out.

Christopher slid the box closer and started looking through it.  “There are dozens of songs in here.  I need to talk to Harlan about these.”

“I think we should go find Terry Roth and ask him some questions.  It’s Saturday night,” Reno mentioned.  “He’s probably playing a gig somewhere.”

“I’ll go with
Christopher,” Tulsa said.

Damn, I’d been edged out again.  And I couldn’t make a big deal about it.  A sideways glance from Christopher told me he, too, didn’t have a choice in the matter.  It made me feel a little better.  “I guess that leaves the four of us to hit the mean streets of Austin,” I announced.

“I’ll take mine to go…no pun intended,” Christopher said to John.

John looked dismayed as we all hurried to grab a hamburger, or in Liberty’s case, a soy burger, and gobble them down.  Within five minutes, Christopher and Tulsa were heading in one direction and Reno, Liberty, Dallas and I were heading in another.

Reno searched the internet on his phone while Dallas drove the van.

“I’m not finding
any upcoming dates for Terry,” he told us.  “I suspect with such an active music community someone will know how to find him.”

There was a light rain coming down as we headed downtown.

“Christopher gave me a few names of people who might be able to help us,” Dallas said.  “He told me we should start at Pete’s Dueling Piano Bar.”

Within minutes Dallas
found a parking space on the street a couple blocks away.  The rain had stopped so we didn’t have to hurry as we walked to the Piano Bar.  As usual, we could hear someone pounding out tunes on a piano while we were still several doors down.

“Who are we looking for?” I asked Dallas.

“There’s a dude named Trey, a former PBR rider who does some freelance bartending, a singer named Sunny and an ex-navy seal named appropriately…Seal.”

“Like Heidi Klum’s ex-husband
,” I commented.

“Who’s Heidi Klum?” Liberty asked.

“
Project Runway
,” I told her and she nodded.  Liberty had become a television fanatic and recognized the name of the popular cable show.

We walked in
to the bar and looked around.  It took us a few minutes for our eyes to adjust from the light outside to the semi-darkness inside.  When we finally got our bearings, we approached the bar.

“Can I
get you something to drink?” The bartender smiled and glanced at us.

Dallas
took the lead.  “We’re trying to meet up with a couple of people.  Maybe you can help us find them.”

“Why do you want them?”

Reno stepped in.  “We have a gig for them, and we were told they often work on Sixth.”

The bartender shrugged.  “Shoot.”

“Trey…,” Dallas said.  “He bartends down here somewhere.”

“
Former rodeo guy, right?  He doesn’t fill in here, but try either The Stage on Sixth or El Camino a few doors down.  They use temps all the time.”

“
What about a singer named Sunny?” 

The bartended smiled and nodded. 
“Oh, yeah, Sunny.  She’s really good.  She packs them in weekends usually at either Riley’s or the Friends’ Bar.  Tell her I said
hi
when you talk to her.  My name’s Derrick, by the way.”

“
Thanks, Derrick.  I will,” I told him.  “How about a guy named Seal?”

Derrick shook his head.  “Never heard of him.”

Reno dropped two twenties on the bar and gave Derrick a nod. 

We walked back outside.  It was almost eight o’clock and the sun had dropped low enough in the sky to cast long shadows on the streets of Austin. 
Dallas looked around and said, “There’s The Stage.  Let’s start there.”  He waited for the walk signal to turn on, then started to cross the street.”

“Are you okay…?” I started to ask Liberty
whose crutches were slipping on the slick sidewalk.

The sound of screeching tires caused me to twist around in time to see a sleek black Camaro,
with burned tire smoke rolling out from around the wheel wells, careen around the corner.  Instead of slowing down for the crosswalk, it sped up.  “Dallas!  Watch out!”  I yelled.

Responding automatically,
Dallas threw himself onto the hood of the car parked closest to the intersection just as the Camaro raced past so close it clipped the side mirror off the parked car.  It banged against the side of the car, then hung limply, suspended by the wires that had controlled it.

“You okay?”  I asked
Dallas, rushing out to him.

Spread across the hood on his belly Dallas looked
at me.  His eyes rolled up.  “Don’t suppose you got the license plate number.”

“
Uh…sorry.” I said.

“No plate,” Reno spoke up.

Dallas stood and dusted himself off.  “Did you happen to notice if he was following us on the way here?”

Reno, Liberty and I exchanged looks and shook our heads.

“We weren’t really paying any attention to that,” I admitted.

“Dallas, do you want to go home?” Liberty asked.

“No.  Someone doesn’t want us to find out what’s going on, which makes me determined to keep going.”  Dallas stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to hide that they were obviously shaking. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Let’s stay on this side of the street until we get there,” Reno suggested and we
continued walking along Sixth Street toward Riley’s. In the next block was a nice looking place called Maggie Mae’s.

“
Why don’t we stop in here and see if they know Trey?” I suggested. I was barely through the door when I heard what sounded like a drum set crashing to the floor and several men shouting at each other.  “Someone needs a time out,” I smiled back at Liberty who was right behind me.

S
uddenly a man dressed in a wife-beater and jeans slid head first toward the door followed by a bass guitar that slammed against his boots as he regained his feet.  He stooped down, grabbed the guitar, kicked the door open and left.

I peeked around the corner and saw the rem
aining band members dismantling the drum set and unplugging the microphones.

“
Actually, I could use a drink,” Dallas said, obviously still a little rattled.  He walked to the bar and we followed.  There were a half dozen college kids at the other end, but most of the stools were empty, so we had no trouble finding places to sit.

“Howdy folks…sorry you
just missed the band.  They had a little…er…disagreement.  Next one comes on at nine. What can I get you?”

I caught his name on his badge.  “Hey
Danny…how are you?”

“I’m good
.”  He gave me a flirtatious smile.  “I’ve got a $2 special on well drinks today or fifty cents on domestic beers.”

“Coors
Light,” Dallas ordered, anxious for his beer.

The rest of us placed our orders and
Danny filled them quickly.

“
Danny, maybe you can help us,” I said.  “We’re looking for a bartender named Trey.”

“He owe you money?”
Danny asked, only half-joking.

“No, nothing like that.  We want to hire him to…find someone.”

“And you are?” he asked.

“I’m
Killeen, this is Liberty and Dallas and Reno,” I said, introducing us in the order we were sitting in front of him.

“
Nice to meet y’all,” Danny said.  “It’s your lucky night.  Trey will be here in about thirty minutes.  This round of drinks is on the house if you want to hang out for a while.”

“Great, we’ll wait,” Reno spoke up.

We sipped our drinks and soaked in the atmosphere.  Danny had to take care of the students, so he left us alone.

“What are we going to ask Terry if we find him?” Liberty asked.

“Did you fucking kill our father?” Reno stated.  We stared at him.  He laughed at our expressions.  “Too subtle?”

“I’d like to know why the band broke up,” I said.

“Hey Danny…what’s up?”  A man yelled from near the front door.

“You just missed the band melt-down,”
Danny laughed.

“Again?  Those guys fight more than me and my old lady.”

“You’ve got company,” Danny told him.

Trey walked around the bar
, stood next to Danny and looked at us curiously.  “And who do we have here?”

I repeated the introductions and added, “
Christopher sent us out to find you, a singer named Sunny and a guy named Seal.  He thought you might be able to help us.”

“Do you work for the P.I. agency?” Trey asked.

“We’re Roger’s kids,” Reno answered.

Trey’s attitude changed from wary to warm.  “Oh hey, man.  I was so sorry to hear about Roger.  He was a
great guy…one of a kind.”

“We never met him,” I said.

“That’s too bad.  He was like a father to me.”

Another one?
I thought and I could see from Dallas’ and Reno’s expressions, they were thinking the same thing.

“
Because of him I’ll graduate from vet school at A&M next year,” Trey continued.  “I had a little drug problem, but Roger got me through it.  After all he did, I just couldn’t believe he fell off the wagon.”

“
We don’t think he did,” I told him.

“Then how…?”

“We’re investigating several possibilities,” Dallas said noncommittally.  “We’re trying to find Terry Roth.  Any idea where he is?”

“Nah, since his song hit the big time, he’s been pretty scarce around here,” Trey told us.  “But I’ll keep my ears open.  Can I reach you at Scandals?”

“Yeah, ask for any one of us.  If we’re out, leave a message and we’ll get back to you,” Dallas said.

“No problem,” Trey agreed.  “Have you talked to Sunny yet? 
Roger and Christopher used her a lot…you know, to find things out.  She’s inside the music industry, so she’d probably be your best bet.”

“
She’s next on our list.  Do you know where she’s playing tonight?” Reno asked.