Security (25 page)

Chapter Forty-Three

“Autumn, just a few words. Are you going to the International Music Awards? We hear there’s going to be a tribute to Blu-Daddy. Will you be taking part?”

“Autumn, have you anything to say about Rockweiler and Janey Jacobs being charged over Blu-Daddy’s death?”

She didn’t even look at the cameras or the reporters shouting questions. Tawanda had positioned herself between Autumn and the paparazzi as they made their way from the cab into the exclusive boutique.

The sales assistant was at the door, beckoning Autumn and Tawanda toward her, ready to let them in and shut the rest of the world out so they could shop in complete privacy.

“Come in, Miss Raine. Would you like me to arrange some security for the front of the store?” the sales assistant asked as Autumn and Tawanda entered.

“No, that won’t be necessary. It’s Lydia
, isn’t it?” Autumn asked, looking the girl up and down and hoping she had remembered correctly.

“Yes, it is, Miss Raine.”

“Please, call me Autumn.” Autumn turned, pulled a top out from a display, and held it out. “I remember you because you make the best coffee. I’ve yet to figure out the secret ingredient, but I know it definitely involves alcohol. So, hit us with two of your special coffees and some of those ginger biscuits,” Autumn told her.

“Yes, Miss R…I mean, yes, Autumn,” Lydia said, her cheeks pink.

Autumn took down the top and held it up to her body.

“What do you think of this one, Tawanda?”

“I think it will make you look like a broomstick in a sack.”

“I love your honesty.” Autumn passed a dress over to her friend. “Here, why don’t you try something on?”

“You want me to try this on?” Tawanda looked at what Autumn had chosen and screwed up her face. “You think I need to wear cocktail dress?” she asked.

“You’ll need something to wear to the IMAs. It’s broadcast in hundreds of countries, and it gets prime time on one of the big US networks, you know.”

“And you think I don’t have something suitable at home I can wear?”

The tone of Tawanda’s voice made it obvious she had made a faux pas. How stupid was she? How utterly contemptible
, suggesting one of these outrageously expensive outfits to her friend and insinuating that anything she already had in her wardrobe would be inadequate to wear to the IMAs.

“Oh, Tawanda, of course not. I didn’t mean that. Well, of course
, I did mean that. But I didn’t mean it
quite
like that. Of course, wear whatever you’d like.”

“This dress is almost three thousand pounds,” Tawanda remarked.

“Is that all?” Autumn said as she dropped down onto one of the leather sofas nearby.

“Why are we here?”

The black woman sat down on the sofa opposite. Autumn felt the intensity of her stare. Prickles started at the base of her neck under the scrutiny.

“I don’t know. I just needed to get out of the apartment, and I needed to get back to being Autumn Raine, pop star. It just doesn’t feel the same anymore,” she said, toying with the clasp on a new purse her mother had brought home for her.

It was smaller than the one the terrorists had taken, and it didn’t feel quite right yet. The clasp was still tight, but apart from a wallet and the new iPhone, it carried her precious photo—not the one of her father—that had been lost.

“You’ve been through a lot in a short space of time. You’re bound to still feel unsettled,” Tawanda offered.

“It isn’t just that. I can’t stop thinking about him, Tawanda.”

“Mr. Nathan,” she guessed.

“His real name was Scott. Did you know that?” Autumn asked, her eyes wide.

“Yes.”

“Of course you did. You’re part of that group, aren’t you?”

“Not this Section 7. This is new to me. I was in the Army. Scott and I—Nathan—we worked together for a number of years. He was someone I’d always trusted, and he felt the same. We were bonded by the terrible things we’d seen and the awful things we had to do. When you are in those dreadful situations, you form close friendships, and friendships built on life and death situations tend to be deeply forged.”

“Were you and he…?”

“No! No, child, never like that. There was never a connection like that. Besides
, I am ten years older than he is…was,” Tawanda said.

“He was almost ten years older than me
, according to his file,” Autumn said, her eyes glazing over as she thought back to the papers she had looked through, hoping to learn so much about the man she loved.

“He was married when we met,” Tawanda said, “devoted to his wife, and they had a child. She was a beautiful girl with dark hair like her father, in curls like her mother.”

Autumn could see the emotion sweep over her face as she remembered someone she had respected and admired.

“He told me, about Carolyn and Marie, about what happened, what that man did to them. And he carried that guilt around right until the end. That Nigel Farlow killed his family, and he took part of Nathan with him, too,” Autumn said.

Lydia arrived back with coffee and biscuits.

Autumn took the cup from the tray. “Thank you, Lydia,” she said.

“You’re very welcome. Now, did you want me to select some outfits for you? I take it you’re looking for something for the IMAs. I’m so sorry about Blu-Daddy, I adored his songs. And your collaborations were always wonderful,” Lydia said, galloping over her words.

Autumn gave the assistant a small smile. “Could you leave us for a bit? We could just do with the coffee for now.” She sipped a bit of her drink.

“Of course. Just let me know when you need my help, and I’ll be right over,” Lydia said, an eager bounce in her step as she trotted off.

Autumn took another sip of her coffee then put the cup down on the table in front of her.

“No one ever talks about him, Tawanda. No one ever says his name. You heard Lydia. She said she was sorry about Blu. No one says how sorry they are about Nathan, and the press reported we were dating. Why does no one care about him?”

“You know how it works, child. Nathan wasn’t anyone to them. He wasn’t someone who had been on a chat show. He wasn’t a candidate for the Big Brother house. You told them he was the head of a computer company. That isn’t news to them. Besides, no one really knows what went on. You were taken. You were rescued. That’s all the details the press were given.”

“I just… I just can’t grieve for him like I want to, because no one wants to listen. I mean, my mother tried, and I asked her about a funeral for him. She said that the pathologists still have his body.” Tears welled up in Autumn’s eyes. “What are they doing with him?”

“I will listen to you, child, whenever you want to talk, but we don’t have to come to an expensive dress shop to do it.” Tawanda reached across and took one of Autumn’s hands in hers.

“It was either here or the coffee shop on Penny Road,” she said with a sniff.

“How about I take you to where I shop? That green dress of yours, the one Mr. Nathan like so much, we find something like that for you,” Tawanda suggested.

“I think I’d really like that,” Autumn replied, taking a drink of her coffee.

She put her cup down and beckoned Lydia over. “Lydia, there’s a cerise pink dress over there that would look fantastic on you. I want you to try it on, and if you like it, I want you to buy it…put it on my account.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t possibly…” Lydia started, her cheeks brightening with embarrassment.

“I insist
, and the customer is always right. Please don’t make me go to the manager.”

“I…”

Autumn picked up her purse and got to her feet. “Get the dress, Lydia. Go out tonight and enjoy it,” she said.

The joy written all over the sales assistant’s face made Autumn’s insides warm. That expensive dress she could buy ten of and not even think about the cost was going to make that young girl’s year. She couldn’t feel happiness right now, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t spread a little.

“Come on, child, let’s give these photographers the slip, and I’ll introduce you to an indoor market,” Tawanda said, heading for the door.

“A what?” Autumn asked.

Chapter Forty-Four

She held up the very understated ivory-colored dress and positioned it over her, holding the hanger out of the way. It had cost her less than thirty pounds that day in the indoor market, and Tawanda had had to pay. She never carried cash, and this particular market stall wouldn’t take credit cards, even from the country’s most well-known singer.

The fabric was cheap in comparison to what she usually wore, but the cut gave her body curves, and when she had tried it on behind a make-shift dressing room of tent poles and a shower curtain, Tawanda had let out an excited yelp. Hearing that reassurance, she knew her eyes hadn’t deceived her when she’d seen herself in the stall holder’s cracked full-length mirror.

She had hundreds of dresses in her apartment, but she still couldn’t bear to go there. Memories of Juan and Janey, those people she had relied on for so long, in her room, having been in her bed—it made her feel sick. But, it wasn’t just that. It was the whole place, the luxury, the over embellishment of everything, the money she had spent, or rather wasted, turning it into some high-tech den she hardly spent any time in.

She had everything that was important to her right with her. Tawanda, her keyboard, the photo of Nathan
, and her memories. Then there was her mother. Things had been tough for Alison at work, although she would never admit to it. Every night since the kidnapping, she had come home exhausted. At first, Autumn had been too wrapped up in her grief to notice, but there were definite worry lines appearing on her mother’s forehead that Botox wasn’t shifting, and she never seemed to be able to really relax.

But Autumn couldn’t help her. She just didn’t know how to yet. The best thing she could do, the only thing she could do, was get on stage tonight and do what she did best. Sing, play the piano, honor her father, honor Blu-Daddy. Honor Nathan. Those people had given her everything. It was time she gave something back.

There was a knock on her dressing room door. She was expecting Tawanda. It was barely thirty minutes before the awards were to start, and they really should have been on their way to their places by now.

“Come in,” Autumn called.

The door opened, and in stepped a tall man with sandy-colored hair, dressed in a tuxedo.

“Who are you?” Autumn asked, holding the dress over her body and looking for something more substantial to cover up her underwear.

“My name is Tyler James, Miss Raine. I’m your new security coordinator,” he stated and closed the door behind him.

“My what?”

“Security coordinator, Ma’am. Bodyguard, if you like.”

He picked up a robe from the back of the door and hung it around her shoulders in one quick movement, leaving Autumn to fasten the tie.

“I didn’t hire a bodyguard.” The word almost caught on her tongue.

This was the work of her mother. Despite knowing most things there were to know about Tawanda and her assassination capabilities, Alison still felt the need to bring in outside help. Autumn gritted her teeth. She tried to remind herself that this was not the fault of the blond-haired, blue-eyed individual in front of her.

“We should take our seats, Ma’am, but perhaps it might be a good idea to put some clothes on first,” he remarked with a hint of a smile playing on his lips and his blue eyes sparkling.

“Was that supposed to be a joke? Because I don’t do jokes at the moment, Mr. James, and I’m not sure when joking will be resumed. Is that clear?” Autumn asked.

“Absolutely, Ma’am. I apologize.”

“I will be ready in ten minutes. Please wait outside.”

“No problem, Ma’am,” He opened the dressing room door and retreated.

Once he had closed the door, she took a deep breath. She didn’t want a new security advisor or whatever he’d called himself. The awards event planners were providing all the security in the arena. She didn’t want anyone else. She especially didn’t want anyone else calling himself her bodyguard. She’d only had one of those, and she wasn’t ready for someone else to take up the vacant position just yet.

She took off the gown he had wrapped around her and threw it over the chair by the dressing table. She’d been made up an hour ago, and if she didn’t move soon, the whole lot would start to melt. She slipped the dress over her head and stuffed her feet into sandals. They had a small heel, but if she had to, she could run in them. She knew that she had no reason to run any more, but what Nathan had said stuck.

There was another knock on the door, and this time, ready to be furious at Tyler James, Autumn threw the door open, a glare on her face.

“Goodness, child,” Tawanda greeted, “if you win those awards tonight, I think the cameras will be hoping for a better expression than that.”

“I thought it was
him
.” Autumn poked her head out the door and looked around for the security man. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“My new security coordinator, Tyler. He said he would be outside.” She scanned the faces of the other people lining the hall.

“You have new bodyguard?” Tawanda questioned.

“No! That’s the whole point. I don’t want a new bodyguard. This is because of my mother. I should call her. I should call her and tell her to stop interfering. I didn’t want her to come with me, and this is what she does. She hires someone to watch me.”

“I speak with her, a few minutes ago, she ask how you are. She did not say about any security guy.”

“Then who hired him?” Autumn asked. “Oh, Tawanda, you don’t think this is As-Wana, do you? I thought it was over. The government captured the members of the group who weren’t killed, and they were going to question them. They were going to find out their plans and put a stop to them, for good.”

“Calm down.”

“I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t go out there. Not now,” Autumn stated.

She counted up her fingers and moved from one foot to the other. All the bravado of earlier had been picked apart by the appearance of a replacement for Nathan. She didn’t want him replaced. He couldn’t be replaced. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the numbers.

“Miss Raine.” Tyler James’ voice broke her concentration.

“Who are you?” Tawanda asked him.

“Hi there. You must be Tawanda. Hi, Tyler James.” He held his hand out to her.

“You don’t charm me with your spiky little hair and the dimples. Who sent you?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, Ma’am.”

“Speak English, will you! What does that mean?” Autumn shrieked.

“I can’t tell you,” Tyler answered.

“Then you come nowhere with us,” Tawanda said, stepping in front of Autumn and shielding her.

Tyler leaned forward and whispered something in Tawanda’s ear.

“What did you say to her? Tawanda? Don’t let him be my security. Please. I don’t like him,” Autumn exclaimed.

Tawanda’s facial expression was incomprehensible. Her dark skin had lightened a few shades and her eyes were popping out of her head as she stared at Tyler, her mouth open.

“We should really go now,” Tyler said as he offered Autumn his arm. “We don’t want to keep all those millions of television viewers waiting do we?”

“Tawanda, what’s happened? What did he say to you? What’s going on?” Autumn looked at her friend and the bewilderment written on her face.

“Nothing…I…we…we can trust this man,” Tawanda stated.

Autumn could tell she was trying very hard to recompose herself, but it wasn’t really working. Tawanda’s whole body quaked.

“Well, how do you know? I want to know how you know. What did you say to her?” Autumn demanded from Tyler.

“Autumn, please, you must trust me on this.” She took hold of Autumns hands. “You trust me, yes?”

“You know I do.”

“Then believe me when I say we can trust this man. It will be good to have someone else with us. If nothing else, he can make sure our champagne glasses are topped up when you win the awards.”

Autumn looked at Tyler, trying to seek out any information she could from just looking at his face. His expression was not committing anything. He looked straight ahead, his eyes not meeting hers or Tawanda’s.

“Miss Raine, Miss Raine, we need you backstage right away to open the show. Maroon 5 is caught up in a bad accident a couple hours north of here. They’re fine, by the way, just delayed,” said a woman dressed all in black, wearing a headset on her head and carrying a clipboard.

“Opening the show,” Autumn said, the enormity of that task hitting her like a train.

“The piano is all ready,” the woman stated.

Tyler offered his arm again. “We should go.”

When the lights went up and she heard the roar of the audience, she wanted to run. It had only been a few weeks since her last public performance, but she had completely forgotten how it felt. The lights were so bright, she couldn’t see anything, and the heat from the stage equipment was already making her perspire. She could see no one, just shadows and darkness, but she knew there were thousands of eyes trained on her in the hall, and millions more behind television sets all over the world. Now was not the time for a meltdown. Now was the time for honoring the memory of her fallen friends. She was here. They weren’t. It was her duty to sing and play her heart out, because, between them, they had made sure she’d stayed alive to do just that.

“Good evening everyone. This is
“Broken Pieces.” This one’s for you Blu,” she stated.

The music started, and a shiver ran over her, but she counted herself in, then she let rip with the vocals like never before.

“The winner of the IMA award for Best International Female Artist goes to…”

Autumn was holding her breath again. She had held her breath for the announcement of Best Album
, and had quickly put a smile on her face when Lady Gaga’s name was announced instead of hers. One chance gone, one left. If she was honest, she didn’t mind if she won the award or not. Just being here, having the strength to get back up on stage after all she had been through, was enough of a win for her. At the moment, her thoughts were about Tyler James and what he was doing here. When he had whispered in Tawanda’s ear, the woman had looked shell-shocked. It was something bad, and the reason she hadn’t told Autumn what it was, was because she wanted her to concentrate on the show. Well, the show was almost over, and she would make her tell her then.

“Autumn Raine!”

The volume of the announcer’s voice shouting her name out almost took her from her seat. Had that been her name? She couldn’t have heard right. It must be a mistake. People all around were looking at her, clapping their hands and raising their glasses. She didn’t know what to do.

“Autumn, come on! You won! Best International Female, child! You need to get on that stage and get the trophy!” Tawanda shouted across the table.

She felt lost. What a few months ago had felt close to being assured had felt out of reach after recent events. Now, the audience was cheering and applauding, and some of them had risen to their feet in admiration.

“Go on, child,” Tawanda urged.

Autumn stood up and tentatively walked toward two men in tuxedoes who had been guiding winners to the stage all evening. Her feet moved on auto-pilot. She couldn’t hear, her eyes were blurred against the lights, but somehow, she mounted the steps and received her crystal IMA logo-shaped award from someone who’d once been in
The Bold and the Beautiful
.

The crowd continued to clap as Autumn looked at the award in her hands, dumbstruck.

Finally, they quieted, and she moved a little closer to the microphone.

“Well…I don’t really know what to say…um, thank you. It’s been a horrible couple of weeks for me, I…”

She didn’t know if she could do this. The spotlight blazed down on her, made her skin heat up and her head ache. She swallowed and tried to focus.

“I lost a dear, dear friend. Albert Arthur, better known as Blu-Daddy,” she said.

There was more applause and whooping, and a photo of Blu-Daddy was displayed on the big screens.

“But I also lost someone else, someone who meant…so much,” Autumn continued.

Just thinking about Nathan made her chest swell with pain. She had known real love for such a short time, in such extreme circumstances. The idea of never having that again, never being able to revel in that feeling with regularity like most couples, tore her apart.

“I lost Nathan Regan. Nathan Regan was the man I loved and…he died trying to protect me. Nathan wasn’t the head of an international software company. He was my bodyguard, and we fell in love.”

On the big screen came a crowd shot, and Autumn could see the people looking up at her, their eyes wide, captive, waiting for whatever she was going to say next.

“Nathan didn’t write songs like Blu. He didn’t appear on
American Idol
or
Ellen,
and as far as I know, he never appeared on the front cover of
Hello!
magazine. That’s the UK equivalent to
The National Enquirer—
kind of.”