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Those security types went twenty-four/seven. I was counting on it.
I went into the soundproofed music room that held the piano I’d gotten for a song and my drum kit and a couple of vintage guitars I’d picked up on tour over the years. I aimed right for the battered 50’s style leather couch I’d brought with me from my last place. The songbook I used to collect the riffs that banged around in my brain was open to the piece I’d been messing with the last time I was in here.
It was called Crimson. Three guesses who’d helped inspire that bit of chaos-driven madness on the drums. It’d take on a whole new flavor now.
I closed the frayed notebook that had seen a hell of a lot of miles on the road.
Just like me.
I didn’t waste time. I had Noah’s number in my phone due to one of Lila’s mandates that we should be able to reach him whenever we needed to. I hadn’t memorized it, and I’d been tempted to not take the number, period. What were the fucking chances I’d ever call Noah Jordan for one goddamn thing?
Yet here we were.
Noah answered on the second ring. “Dallas?”
His voice gave nothing away. Neither would mine.
“Something’s up. I need your discretion.”
“With the band?”
I wanted to toss sarcasm back at him but I managed not to. “Yes. Specifically Teagan. And Zane indirectly, but it all centers on her.”
“This is about the spiked drink.”
“Yes. What do you know?”
“Not enough. Lila has only a few details. You didn’t give her much to work with.”
“I can’t put Teagan’s safety on the line. I can’t and I won’t.”
“The people involved are your bandmates and your record label.”
“Yeah, and I love all of them as fam
ily. I’m not worried about them spilling the wrong thing. For all we know, we have a leak. The more people in on this, the bigger the chances something can slip out to the wrong person. I won’t risk Teagan. I also won’t apologize for it. So, either you hear me out, or we’ll pretend this call never happened.”
“I’m listening.”
“Friday night, we hung around the VIP area of the club after the show. All of Brooklyn Dawn and their significant others, some of Warning Sign and same. I went to the bar to buy drinks for Teagan and myself, though I ended up just getting one for her. I ordered a Blue Shark instead of a Blue Lagoon, which she was already drinking at the table. The bartender started flirting with me. Blond and brown, five-six, approximately one-twenty. Said her name was Priscilla Jones.”
“Got it.”
I heard the scratch of a pencil and knew he was taking notes. “I mentioned something about being in the band, and she got excited, and then she asked about Teagan. Fucking hell, she asked about Teagan specifically. I didn’t mention her, but she made it seem to Teagan like it was a coincidence she was in the band. How could I be so damn stupid?”
Noah wisely chose not to comment.
“My head wasn’t in the game.” I braced my elbow on my knee and scrubbed my hand over my face.
“The fire.”
“Yeah, but not just that. This isn’t really any of your business, but I want to cover all my bases. Teagan and I hooked up that night.”
“Congratulations. Do you want me to put that in the case notes?”
I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or punch the guy. Possibly both. “Look, put whatever you want. I’m not telling you to brag. It’s private. But what happened with us influenced the other events.”
Quickly, I told him the rest. How Zane was dared by Jamie to drink Teagan’s left-behind drink when we were dancing. Why we didn’t return to the table. Waking up the next morning to bail out Zane from jail after he’d stolen a car, gotten a tramp stamp, and God knows what else.
