Diamond (25 page)

“No, it’s not particularly safe,” Diamond said. “I’ve been robbed once.” She shrugged. “Didn’t take anything, though—didn’t have anything he wanted.” She turned and stared at Twila. “Do you really have a gun?”

Twila heard the pain behind the sarcasm in Diamond’s voice as she admitted to owning nothing worth stealing. “Hell yes, I’ve got a gun. I live in a better part of town than this and I’ve been robbed twice.” She grinned. “’Course, I’m probably twice as old as you, so that accounts for the extra robbery, don’t you think?”

Diamond grinned back. “Seems like a plausible explanation,” she said. “Come on up. As I remember, you said we need to discuss details. And believe me, Twila Hart, I’ll dig.”

Twila nodded. “Ask away, girl,” she said. “I haven’t got a thing to hide, and we’ve got everything to gain.” She opened the door and then looked back at Diamond, who was still belted in place. “So, unlock that seat belt and go let me in. This damned suit could get me killed.” She pointed at her leather pantsuit and frowned while motioning for Diamond to hurry.

Diamond crawled out of the car and followed Twila Hart’s swinging fringe to the front door, let them in with her key, and shut out the boogeyman before he followed them in.

15

Henley entered Jesse’s bedroom
with five freshly ironed shirts as Jesse exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and another that he was using on his hair.

“Your shirts, sir,” Henley said, and hung them in the closet, calmly ignoring Jesse’s near-nude state and the fact that he was dripping all over the carpet.

“Thanks, Henley,” Jesse said. “And I wish to hell you’d can the ‘sir’ business.” He dropped one of the damp towels onto a chair and headed for the dresser. “You always called Diamond by her first name. Why not me?”

Henley’s eyebrows rose several inches. To say that he was shocked that Jesse had even mentioned her name was putting it mildly. However, well-trained “man” that he was, he was bound to answer.

“I didn’t work for her,” Henley said, and then felt compelled to add, “Somehow she just wasn’t cut out for the propriety, sir, if you know what I mean.”

Henley walked along behind Jesse as he dressed, picking up damp towels from chairs and retrieving lost belts and misplaced boots.

Jesse was so accustomed to Henley picking up after him that he didn’t even notice what he was doing until he caught a glimpse of Henley over his shoulder in the vanity mirror and saw the pile of discarded things over his arm.

He walked out of the bathroom, took the towels from Henley and hung them up. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t pay you to be my maid. My mother would whack me up the side of the head if she could see me now.”

Henley was surprised at the almost good-natured attitude Jesse was exhibiting. It was so like the Jesse of old, before Diamond Houston had come into their lives, that it surprised him. Surely Jesse wasn’t getting over her, Henley thought. Surely his feelings for her ran deeper than that. As far as Henley was concerned, Diamond Houston could walk right back in the front door and take up where she left off.

“Then it’s a good thing your mother’s not here, sir, because you are a pig and we both know it.”

Jesse laughed, wadded up a washcloth, and aimed it for Henley’s back. It landed with a wet squish and surprised Henley so much he dropped the load of laundry in his arms and turned and stared.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, sir?” Henley asked. There had to be a reason for all this good behavior.

Jesse’s smile slowly disappeared. He leaned against the door to his bathroom, and the words that came out of his mouth were shaky.

“She called.”

“Miss Diamond—when? Where is she? Is she coming—”

“I don’t know. She didn’t talk to me,” Jesse said.

Henley frowned. This didn’t sound good. How could she call and not talk to him? Maybe the strain of the last few months had been too much. Maybe Jesse had gone round the bend.

“Don’t frown at me,” Jesse said. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. She called, but she wouldn’t talk.”

“Then how do you know it was her?” Henley asked. “Maybe you’re making too much out of a wrong number.”

“Because she was crying.”

Strange as it seemed, the answer made sense. “So she called. She could be anywhere,” Henley said. “How do you expect to find her?”

“I heard a train.”

Henley rolled his eyes and tried not to despair. “Trains run everywhere, sir. There’s no way you can tell which train or what city. I’m afraid you’re getting your hopes up only to have them knocked down again.”

Jesse shook his head. “No! I know I’m right. I heard the train, and then she hung up. I walked outside only minutes later and heard the same whistle as the train took the bend above the crossing below the house. She’s in Nashville, Henley. And by God, I’m gonna find her.”

Henley shook his head, bent down, and gathered up the laundry he’d dropped. “I hope you’re right, sir. I sincerely hope you’re right.” He walked away and left Jesse to finish dressing.

Half an hour later, Jesse emerged, surprised to see that Henley was still there.

“Go on home, Henley,” Jesse said. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Take tomorrow off, too. I’ll see you next year.”

Henley grinned at Jesse’s teasing reminder that another year was upon them. “Thank you, sir. I believe I will. If you plan on watching the football games here and have guests in, I’ve prepared several snacks. They are in the usual places.”

“Thanks, Henley.”

“Oh!” Henley said, turning as he remembered the message he’d taken while Jesse was in the shower. “I almost forgot. You had a phone call from Mack Martin. He said not to return his call, that he’d see you at the party at the Union Station Hotel.”

Jesse nodded, wondering why Mack would call him. In all the years they’d known each other, he could count on one hand the number of times Mack had called.

“Okay,” Jesse said. “Did Tommy say whether or not I was supposed to pick him up at his place?”

“I haven’t heard from Mr. Thomas in days, sir. I wouldn’t know.”

Jesse shrugged. “No big deal. I’ll just stop by his place on the way.”

Henley left, and Jesse went to get his overcoat and keys, eager now that he was dressed to get out of the house and back into society. He’d come to the belief that the more he mingled, the quicker he’d find Diamond, although he knew by all rights they probably wouldn’t be mingling in the same circles or he’d already have found her.

The party was one that he and Tommy had planned months ago. The ancient Union train station in downtown Nashville had been renovated several years earlier and was now an elegant but intimate hotel. Jesse had reserved the banquet room for his band and their families as well as some of country music’s “important” personages who would be party-hopping in the new year.

He’d left the planning as well as the guest list up to Tommy, but after the revelations of the last few months he was a little apprehensive as to what would emerge. Tommy seemed capable of creating more undercurrents than Jesse would have imagined.

He slid into his car and buckled up, realizing that whatever Tommy’d decided, it was too late to change.

He had left too damned much up to Tommy, he told himself. But no more. He took off down the driveway, leaving a flurry of dead leaves and gravel flying in the air behind him.

Fifteen minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of Tommy’s condominium, noting that his manager’s car was still in its place. He headed up the steps, expecting to find Tommy pacing the floor and swearing about being kept waiting. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jesse knocked until his knuckles hurt and then pulled out his keys. Years ago in a fit of camaraderie Tommy had given him a key to his place. Jesse had never used it, but something told him now was the time.

“Dammit,” Jesse muttered, squinting in the weak light as he tried to connect the key to the keyhole. It finally slid in place and Jesse breathed a sigh of relief as the key turned easily in the lock.

The door swung back to reveal utter chaos. In that moment Jesse panicked, expecting to walk inside and find Tommy lying dead on the floor, the victim of an assault. But the thought quickly passed as Tommy staggered into the living room, a bottle in one hand, a shot glass in the other. The gray sweats he was wearing looked as if they hadn’t been washed in a week. And from the length of his whiskers and the smell of the place, neither had Tommy.

“Tommy?”

He jumped. The empty shot glass slid out of his fingers as he stared blankly at the man blocking the door to his living room. Squinting, he leaned forward and peered through the shadows of the half-lit room. Recognizing his best and only client, he grinned and then mumbled, “Jesse, is that you, ol’ buddy? Got a smoke? I been out for days.”

Jesse walked inside and quickly slammed the door shut behind him, suspecting that later Tommy wouldn’t appreciate any other witnesses to this mess, or his condition.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Jesse asked, taking the liquor bottle out of Tommy’s fingers.

Tommy grinned and tried to slap Jesse’s shoulder in a manly fashion, but he missed and would have fallen on his face had Jesse not caught him on the way down.

“Wrong? Nothin’s wrong…why’d ya ashk? Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a man havin’ hisse’f a li’l drink…is ’ere?” And then he patted the pocketless pants of his sweats and staggered in a small circle as he repeated his earlier request. “You real sure you don’ have a smoke?”

Jesse stared. Something was definitely out of kilter here. In all the years he and Tommy had been together, he’d never known him to so completely lose control.

“Nothing’s wrong with a little drink, as you call it,” Jesse said. “But from the smell of you and this place, you’ve been at it for days. And—no, I don’t have any cigarettes.”

Tommy shrugged and frowned, staggering as he wrenched himself from Jesse’s touch. “It’s not been sho long,” he muttered. “Jush since the mall. Didn’ spec’ that. No sir, didn’ spec’ that.”

“What the hell has a mall got to do with you getting drunk?” Jesse asked.

Tommy raised his arm and aimed his forefinger in the general direction of Jesse’s nose. “It’s all your fault,” Tommy muttered. “If you’d lishened to me…she wouldn’t have meshed up ever’thin…shoulda lef’ her where you found her, by God!”

She
!

Jesse knew in that moment that Tommy was referring to Diamond. First the call the other night and now this—it was too much to be coincidence. Maybe she’d called Tommy, too. Maybe Tommy knew where she was. Jesse had to know. He grabbed Tommy by the arm, forcing him to listen.

“Where is she? By God, Tommy, if you’ve known all this time where she was and didn’t tell me, I’ll break your neck.”

Angry at the insinuation and guilty because part of it was true, Tommy swung at Jesse but missed his target and fell forward onto the carpet instead.

Jesse made a face, unable to believe that this was the same man to whom he’d entrusted his entire career. He poked Tommy’s shoulder with the toe of his boot, almost hoping he’d passed out so that, for the time being, the conversation would be at an end. But it was not to be.

Tommy’s head lolled on his shoulders as he tried to crawl to his feet. He could feel his stomach roiling and knew that it was time to head for the bathroom.

“Help me up,” Tommy begged. “Gonna be sick.”

“You make
me
sick,” Jesse said, hauling him unceremoniously to his feet. “I asked you a question. Do you know where Diamond Houston is?”

“I don’t know nothin’,” Tommy mumbled, staggering toward the bathroom. “All I know is…she got on a bus. I tried to fin’ her. I did, I swear.”

Jesse was puzzled. He could make neither head nor tail of Tommy’s drunken rambling. “You watched her get on a bus and leave town? I thought you said—”

“No, hell no!” Tommy shouted, and slammed the bathroom door shut just in time.

Jesse frowned and walked away, unwilling to stand in the hallway and listen to Tommy retch.

Minutes later the door opened and Tommy walked out with a wet washcloth pressed over his face, ignoring the drops of water that ran down the front of his sweatshirt in an uneven pattern. He cursed as he accidentally walked into a wall, yanked the washcloth away from his aching, bloodshot eyes, and then jerked back in a nervous reflex as he realized Jesse was still there.

“I asked you a question,” Jesse said quietly.

Tommy’s stomach turned again. He considered the idea of heading back to the bathroom, but from the look on Jesse’s face, there was no time left for procrastination.

“I don’ know where the fuck she is,” Tommy said, and slapped the wet washcloth across the back of his neck. “My goddamned head aches. I haven’t eaten in days. I’m sick, and all you worry ’bout is that bitch.”

Jesse slammed Tommy against the wall, and when Tommy would have fallen he propped him up as he glared into his manager’s face.

Jesse didn’t have to ask again. Tommy could tell that he’d stepped over the line.

“I don’t know where she is,” Tommy whined, trying unsuccessfully to remove himself from Jesse’s grip. “I’m not even sure it was her. All I saw was this tall blonde getting on a city bus out at a mall. Hell, there’s a million jus’ like ’er out there. I don’ know why you don’ jus’ pick one of them and leave her the hell alone.”

“When?” Jesse asked.

Tommy looked away, unable to face him as he answered. “Just before Christmas.” He added quickly, before Jesse could punch him for keeping the secret to himself, “But I’m still not sure it was her—that’s why I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Jesse was so angry he was shaking. But having it out with Tommy when he was in this condition would be like picking on a helpless child.

“What you’ve never understood,” Jesse said, turning away from him, unwilling to let him see his pain, “is that my hopes have never died. I don’t want anyone else but her, ever. I’ll find her—and when I do, you’d better pray to God she doesn’t implicate you in any way. I love her, and I’m going to marry her. If you two can’t get along, one of you will have to go. And we both know who that’ll be—don’t we?”