“No,” I replied.
“Okay, maybe we should quit talking about The Rock.” I heard Shirleen give in.
My eyes moved to Al y. She was on her hands, leaning over me.
“What was in the paper?” I asked.
Her head came up and she looked over her shoulder.
There was a weird noise made by one of the Rock Chicks, which one I didn’t know.
Al y moved out of my eyesight but sat down beside me as I lifted up to sitting position.
Everyone was again silent.
Oh dear.
Final y, Daisy answered, “Wel , the whole thing is out.
Indy and Lee, Jet and Eddie, Roxie and Hank, Jules and Vance, Luke and Ava. Someone talked. I don’t know how they flew under the radar this long but it’s out now. The whole thing. There’s a three-piece exposé about the whole Rock Chick on Hot Bunch experience. Today’s piece was the first one; they did Indy and Lee, Jet and Eddie. They’re gonna fol ow you and Mace as it goes along.” I stared at her.
She caught my stare and went on, trying to make me feel better (but failing). “If it’s any comfort, sugar, they got a great picture of Mace carrying you out of the club last night.
You can’t see much of you but your ass but Mace sure looks good.”
That’s when I said, “You… are… fucking… shitting…
me.”
“I stil wanna know who spil ed,” Ava noted, clearly not recognizing my immense freak out.
“I’m guessing Tex,” Al y said.
“Uncle Tex wouldn’t talk. I’m thinking Duke. Duke can have a big mouth,” Roxie replied.
“No way it’s Duke,” Indy put in.
“Tod?” Jet asked hesitantly.
“Tod’s a definite possibility,” Indy said, crossing her arms.
I was looking from one to the other, thinking that they were focusing on the wrong thing.
“How about May, do you think May might say something?ght say Al y asked Jules.
Jules sighed then nodded.
I’d had enough. “Who cares who did it! We have enough to worry about, someone wants us al dead. And Mace and I just had a very unhappy conversation, very unhappy, where he was about to let me in and instead of getting a piece of him, I threw it in his face. And he told me that was the only chance I was going to get. And, I repeat, I threw it in his face! I don’t want a chance but I do! I don’t want to care that I might have hurt him by not listening to what he had to say but I think I did, and furthermore, I think I care. Effing bloody hel , my life’s a shambles. I don’t know what to think!
What the hel do I do now?”
“He was going to let you in?” Jet asked softly, her eyes on me were intense and they scared me a little bit.
I nodded.
“And you didn’t let him?” Roxie went on.
I tore my eyes away from Jet’s scary-intense ones and nodded again at Roxie.
“Sugar, why’d you do a fool thing like that?” Daisy demanded to know, hands back to hips.
“I don’t know! People are shooting at me. Mace is effing with my head. Linnie’s dead. I’m on the front page of the paper. A journalist I don’t even know because I stil haven’t seen a paper is going to fol ow this fucked up shit between Mace and me. And a scout from a very good label told me he’s been coming to my shows. I’m not thinking straight,” I replied.
“Oh, speakin’ of that scout, he’s comin’ to the gig this afternoon,” Shirleen put in, I felt my heart seize as my eyes cut to her.
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s into you. Way into you. We’re talking deal,” Daisy informed me.
Deal?
Daisy and Shirleen were talking deal?
With my band?
They couldn’t talk deal.
Only I could talk deal.
Effing hel .
My eyes moved to Daisy and my breath moved to Idaho.
“What?” I repeated a word that I beginning to hate.
“Deal,” Shirleen took over. “Hector knows someone who knows someone who knows what he’s talkin’ about in the music business. Hector talked to him and he’s got the lingo.
This Dixon Jones guy thinks Hector’s the shit, because, wel , he is the shit. You shoulda seen him. It was like he did it for a living.”
I opened my mouth then closed it then opened it again and said, “I met Hector a few days ago.”
“Wel , Dixon Jones thinks we’re your managers with Hector being Top Dog,” Daisy explained.
My brain thought about the idea that an A&R man from Black Fat Records would think The Blue Moon Gypsies needed three managers with two of them being Shirleen and Daisy and swiftly rejected that idea as seriously unpalatable and spit it right back out.
“Hector’s a private detective,” I said stupidly, going for denial.
“We know that and you know that but Dixon Jones thinks he’s a shit-hot music biz type. We’re lookin’ at studio time,” Shirleen replied.
Oh.
My.
God.
“Studio,” I whispered.
“Yeah, recordin’ studio,” Shirleen told me, like I didn’t know.
“That is fuckin’ phat! ” Annette shouted.
I turned to Al y. “Do you think, if I walk outside, someone wil shoot me?”