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I suddenly realize something. “It’s the second or third time he insists out loud that he’s not Ben…”
“He isn’t,” she says with disdain, “Ben had an alibi.”
“But it’s him, Sandra!” I say, waving my hands widely. “Same body type, same facial structure, same voice! Brody also thinks the alibi was a fake!”
“I wonder where Ben is right now…” Sandra says, lost in thought and looking out of the window.
Finally, we arrive at the hotel. The driver climbs out first and orders us to wait. He goes to my side to let me out, then runs around to open the door for Sandra.
The journalists aren’t there, thankfully. Currently all the excitement is still concentrated at the stadium, and no one knows I’m out of there yet. Instead of dealing with all the hubbub, Sandra and I can walk in quietly, under the eye of the security officer.
“Come up with me?” I ask Sandra on our way to my bedroom.
Sandra looks longingly at the bar on the first floor, making my heart wrench.
“Alright, go to the bar,” I point towards it with my head. “Who am I to be holding you hostage to my whims?”
“Oh, Miss Drama Queen!” she pretend-pushes me, then passes an arm around my shoulders as we get inside the elevator. “Tell you what: let’s order some room service and purchase some trashy movies from paper view. If I’ve learned anything, I know these things will take hours, so Brody is not coming back any time soon.”
“Hum…” I moan. “I know you mean well, but that doesn’t help.”
She looks at me with compassion and taps me on the shoulder. “Sorry. He’ll be back soon, sweetie.”
I just nod forlornly as the elevator goes up.
Chapter Twenty-Four
BRODY
It’sourfirstnightin Texas. Today, the girls only perform a soundcheck. The show will be tomorrow, and in Lily’s words, it’s going to be a blast.
Though that’s not my gut feeling from reading the room right now. You could cut the tension with a knife, and everyone’s downcast faces would make a clown cry.
“Anything wrong?” I ask, just arriving at my bedroom door.
Sandra, Lily and Fenway are there, gathered around the couch, with a camera in a tripod posted in front of Lily.
“Fenway brought us up to speed with everything that happened,” Lily tells me, reaching for my hand, and I offer it to her. “I’m going to make a video outing Ben. Post a picture of him and all. Maybe folks will be able to spot him and help us.”
“What did the police say about it?” I ask, one eyebrow raised.
“They’re already putting up posters, sir,” Fenway says, “this would only be a boost.”
I nod and acquiesce, sitting back at the desk to watch the video go on.
“Are you going to use the script?” Sandra asks, pointing to a piece of printed paper.
“No…” Lily sighs. “I’ll speak from the heart.”
“Alright,” Sandra places herself behind the camera, “ready?”
“Wait!” Lily raises a hand as if to ask a question. “Brody, do you want to sit here with me?”
I blink, surprised. “Why?” It’s all I manage to say.
“For moral support. You don’t have to say a thing, just sit here and hold my hand. Please?”
“Of course,” I stand up and go to her without a hint of hesitation, but Sandra inserts herself in between us.
