Rock and a Hard Place (26 page)

Peter closed the drawer and saw Bea pressed
up against Roger. “So then I went to Nashville to sing for this big
record producer. He said he liked my style, said I had real
panache, whatever that is.” Bea fluttered her peacock lashes
again.

He didn’t have the heart to watch Roger
suffer any longer. An assault from Bea had to be worse than Roger’s
tour of duty in Desert Storm.

“
Roger,” Peter interrupted.
“I just realized we’re going to miss our flight if we don’t head
out.” He efficiently pushed the two apart. “Bea, it’s been a
pleasure and I can’t thank you enough for all your
help.”

He bee-lined to the car and started the
engine. Roger literally leapt over the hood, slid in and slammed
his door. Bea flitted after Roger, her words still flying. Peter
backed up, sped away and pretended not to notice.

Roger glared at Peter. “You owe me big time
for that.”

Peter howled in laughter and honked the horn
as he cruised out of town, one step closer to Libby.

Chapter 24

Two days later, ominous clouds thundered
over the Red Rocks Amphitheater. “We are not canceling this
concert,” Peter said. “I don’t care if there are torrential rains,
earthquakes or tsunamis; this show is happening.” He glared at the
Red Rocks stage manager, his posse of security, and the management
team. Peter’s family stood in formation behind him, a silent army
of supporters.

“
As I said before, it’s not
safe.” The stage manager held his ground. “With an outdoor
amphitheater there are added dangers when inclement weather
strikes.

“
And I’ll say it again, we
are not canceling.” Peter said, hands on his hips, a formidable
opponent.

The stage manager looked to Peter’s parents
for help, but received none. “You don’t understand. We have
guidelines, policies and insurance issues at stake here. Do you
want to take responsibility for that?”

“
You bet I do. What do you
need?” Peter didn’t flinch. “Where do I sign? Do you want a check?”
Too much rested on this concert. Libby was coming and he would not
let her be sent away.

“
That’s not how it works
and I’m sure your father can attest to that. We’re talking about
the safety of ten thousand people in and around the
amphitheater.”

His father interrupted. “Let’s take a look
at the radar once more.” He gestured toward the computer screen
nearby. “At this point, most of the fans are already in the stands
or on the grounds. Canceling the concert isn’t going to help. There
must be some sort of emergency procedure when unexpected storms
occur during a concert.”

“
Yes, of course there is.
However, the goal is not to need them. Moving this many people can
result in panic and injury. Plus there is an added threat with a
storm system of this magnitude.”

“
Don’t you think it’s a
little late to send everyone home,” his mother said. “In fact, it
would be irresponsible. According to radar this is a fast moving
system. Let’s get the fans to safety here on the grounds, we will
wait the storm out, and then all enjoy a the concert. No one goes
home disappointed.”

“
Well, I don’t know. The
stage will be soaked, and the seats in the stands will be wet.
There will be no dry place to sit,” the stage manager
argued.

“
The stage is simple, we
can squeegee it off in minutes,” Garrett said.

“
Our fans never sit during
a concert anyway,” Adam added. “In fact, if you went out there and
asked them if they want the concert canceled, or to take cover and
come out when the storm passes, I guarantee they’ll
stay.”

Peter watched the stage manager and his crew
process the information and waffle. Libby was going to be here and
he’d be damned if a little rain would keep them apart.

“
All right, but I want it
on the record I don’t like this decision.”

“
Thank you,” his mom said.
“We appreciate your flexibility to solve this problem. Let us know
what we can do to help.”

“
You can have your crew
cover the equipment and make sure everyone from your team is safely
backstage when this storm hits.”

# # #

And hit it did. Twenty minutes after the
conversation a few big fat raindrops pelted Peter. Seconds later
the menacing clouds produced high winds. The crowd as well as the
band and crew took cover. Red Rocks suffered a severe thunderstorm
complete with spectacular lightening and quarter-sized hail. Peter
hoped Libby was safe. He listened as the storm blazed through and
left a trail of toppled souvenir tents and turned over trash
receptacles. But other than a lot of water and quick melting hail,
no major damage occurred. The stage equipment stayed intact and the
fans eagerly came out from hiding, like children on Christmas
morning, they celebrated that the show would go on.

While the Jamieson team prepped the stage,
Peter’s thoughts returned to finding Libby. “I know she’s here,” he
said to Garrett. “She’s had plenty of time to drive from Georgia.”
He watched the monitor set up back stage. It showed each girl as
she filled out the questionnaire. No Libby.

“
So far the security detail
covering the contest area hasn’t had anyone answer the final
question correctly.” Garrett looked worried.

“
Where is she?” Peter said,
staring at the security monitor.

# # #

“
Come on you miserable rust
bucket, just one more mountain to climb.” DarLynn gripped the
steering wheel and concentrated on the gauges of the ancient
pick-up.

Libby chewed her lower lip as the engine
groaned in protest. They were halfway up the steep entrance road to
Red Rocks. Even though they left Georgia two days earlier, they
arrived late. The truck caused problems the entire trip. First, an
oil leak and then the engine over heated outside of Wichita.

She hoped the deluge of rain was a sign of
cleansing and would bring her good fortune and not an omen of bad
luck. Libby could barely stay seated. She wanted to run the rest of
the way.

A loud pop sounded from the engine and steam
hissed out from under the hood, confirming her bad omen theory.

“
Sweet baby Jesus, give us
a break!” DarLynn pounded the steering wheel.

A parking attendant wearing an orange vest
walked up. “Ma’am, you need to move your vehicle off the drive.
You’re blocking traffic.”

“
Does it look like I can
move this beast? If you haven’t noticed, we’re having a little
trouble here,” DarLynn barked.

The man tried to hide his smirk. Apparently
he found their dying truck, spewing steam and oil,
entertaining.

“
Tell you what. If you can
back your vehicle down to that service lot, you should be able to
pull it in before it, ah, blows up.” He grinned.

Despite her nerves over seeing Peter again,
Libby smiled at the odds the truck would indeed explode.

“
Stay with your vehicle,
Miss, and I’ll get a tow truck on it’s way to help you
out.”

“
But I have to get to the
concert, I’m already late!” Libby peered out the window at
him.

“
That’s right,” DarLynn
said. “She’s Libby, the girl from the contest. They’re looking for
her.”

“
Right.” The parking guy
looked at them in doubt. “I heard something about a
contest.”

“
Well, she’s the one.”
DarLynn pointed at Libby. “We’ve driven halfway across the country
to get her here and we’re not giving up. Libby, you hop out and
walk the rest of the way. I’ll stay here and deal with the
truck.”

“
Are you sure?” She wanted
to go so badly, but hated to abandon DarLynn after everything she’d
done for her.

“
Don’t you worry about me.
I’ll be waiting for you after the concert. Now go on.”

Libby hugged her friend then jumped out of
the truck, ticket in hand. She showed it to the parking guy. “Do
you know where Gate 3A is?”

His eyes widened as he recognized the VIP
entrance. “All the way up. There are gold signs to direct you.”

“
Thank you.” She began her
long trek up the hill.

“
Hey kid,” he called after
her. “Good luck.”

“
Thanks.” She smiled and
ran around the bend in the road.

Out of breath after what seemed like a
marathon trek, Libby arrived at the gate and joined the line under
a gold banner that read “Search for Libby Contest Winners”. Her
nerves taut, she waited her turn.

“
Ladies, patience please.
We’ll get you all back in. It’s only a storm delay. Please show
your ticket and hand stamp as you reenter.” A tall, dark haired
security guy said.

Thankfully, the line moved quickly. Libby
sighed in relief that the concert hadn’t begun yet, but she felt
annoyed at all the girls around her who pretended to be “Peter’s
Libby.” How could they have possibly answered all the contest
questions right?

“
Hand please,” the security
guard said.

“
Excuse me?” Confused,
Libby hesitated next to the turnstile with a black light set
up.

“
Your hand. Put it under
the light so I can verify your hand stamp from exiting.”

“
I just got
here.”

“
Oh,” he grabbed the radio
from his belt and spoke into it. “I’ve got a new arrival here, what
do I do?” He turned back to Libby. “Sorry, since we had to evacuate
the amphitheater there’s been a lot of confusion. We’re all manning
different stations now.

The radio blared back. “Go to the contest
table and have her complete the final question.”

“
This way,” he said,
stepping away from the main crush of fans reentering and over to a
long table with questionnaires, pens and a surveillance camera set
up in the corner. “Let’s see, looks like you answer the question on
this sheet and . . .” His radio blared again. “Hang on a sec.” He
took the radio and stepped away to listen.

Libby picked up the slip of paper and a pen.
So this was how they would determine the real Libby? If all these
girls could figure out the answers to the other questions,
certainly they would know the answer to this one too. She read the
question.

“
In the song ‘Angel
Kisses,’ what is Peter referring to?”

She hugged the sheet to her and began to
laugh. No one could possibly know the answer, but her. She wrote
the words on the paper. Her heart filled with joy at the memory of
that autumn day when Peter traced her scarred hands with his finger
tips and kissed her pain away.

She waited for the security guard but he
wouldn’t return. Her adrenaline ran high now that she was about to
see Peter again. Suddenly music filled the air. The concert started
and she was missing it! Anxious to find Peter, she waved to the get
the security man’s attention. He still spoke on his radio, but held
up his index finger and signaled he would be another minute. The
crowd’s roar filled her ears. She couldn’t bear it. When he still
didn’t return, she waved again indicating that she left her answer
sheet on the table. She turned and dashed away and into the seating
area to see Peter.

# # #

“
Roger, you’ve got to speak
up, I can’t hear you over the music.” The security guard held the
radio tight to his ear and strained to hear what the head of
Jamieson’s security said.

“
What is the status of the
crowd at your entrance?” The voice crackled over the
radio.

“
We’ve got just about
everyone back inside, but I still need to know about the contest
procedure. I’ve got a girl who hasn’t been processed yet, and no
one else is here.” He looked up to see the blond girl at the table
wave to get his attention again. She pointed at the sheet on the
table and then disappeared.

“
Have her fill out the
questionnaire and let me know her answer,” Roger said.

“
Got it.” He spoke into the
radio. “Hang on, while I grab it and see what she wrote.” He
returned to the contest table, picked up her paper and read the
neatly printed words.

“
The scars on my hands.
That’s what she wrote. Does it mean anything to you?”

“
That’s her! You found her!
Bring her back stage!”

“
Shit. I can’t. She just
entered the amphitheater. I’ll never find her now.”

Chapter 25

Libby couldn’t believe her eyes. Nestled
between the massive red rocks, lay an amazing amphitheater. Before
her danced a sea of people. The stage lay at the bottom. Row after
row of seats filled the hillside, all with a perfect view of Peter
performing center stage. She nearly burst with excitement.

Several people brushed past as they returned
to their seats. An usher approached and yelled something, but Libby
couldn’t hear a word over the pounding music. The woman shined a
flashlight on the ticket in Libby’s hand and gestured towards the
audience. Did Libby know where her seat was?

“
No,” Libby yelled back,
but knew her words were lost as the deafening sounds of Jamieson
pumped through the speakers.

The woman read Libby’s ticket and indicated
she should follow. About fifteen rows from the stage, she
illuminated the ticket for Libby and pointed out the seat number.
Libby pressed her way into the row, but after she bumped and
jostled past several people, she gave up and stayed where she
was.