“He have other clients?”
“Half a dozen or it might be more by now. My contract with Kevin ends at the end of this year. He wants me to sign on for another three years.”
Hone’s expression froze, and she couldn’t read his mind.
“I—”
“Katie-Jo. There you are.”
Cassie turned at the familiar voice, felt her brows rise and her mouth fell open. She clacked her teeth together. “Kevin, I didn’t really believe you’d come tonight.”
“I thought I’d visit my country star. Where are your musicians? You told me you’d organize them.”
“No, I said I was going for an unplugged atmosphere for my segment. I want the songs and the vocals to shine.”
“I see.”
“This is my friend Hone. He’s helping me with the music.”
Kevin offered Hone a nod, but didn’t extend his hand in greeting. Cassie frowned, not liking or understanding his unfriendly attitude.
“See you later.” Kevin left without another word.
Cassie grimaced at his suit-clad back then at the wooden door. That had been fun. She felt as if she should apologize to Hone for Kevin’s rudeness.
“Katie-Jo, are you almost ready?” Charlie asked after a knock at the door to announce his presence.
She stood. “Hone, can you mind my water bottle? I’ll signal when I want it.”
“Sure.” Hone picked up his guitar.
Cassie grinned at him. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” He paled as the crowd cheered when Charlie introduced Katie-Jo.
Cassie sucked in a deep breath and strutted onto the stage. The usual anxieties tap-danced harder than normal. Not difficult to guess why. Her pride rode on this concert. She refused to dwell on the right or wrong of her new songs, but if they flopped with the crowd, especially with Kevin’s presence, she might cry.
Aware the crowd had quieted, she lifted her right hand in a wave and stepped up to the freestanding mike on the platform.
“Hi. I’m Katie-Jo.” Once again, she emphasized the American part of her heritage. “You probably haven’t heard of me, but the country fans over in America think I can sing a little.” Her fingers strummed her guitar and behind her, Hone started to play the intro bars with her. “I thought I’d start with a song that everyone informs me is a Kiwi classic. You might recognize it. It goes like this.”
She glanced at Hone, taking in his extreme paleness, although his fingers didn’t falter as he blinked back at her with a flash of fear—no, maybe insecurity. That made two of them. She turned back to the audience, embraced her apprehension and started singing.
* * * * *
“Boss, I might have found her.” Herbert stood at the rear of the crowd watching the pair on stage.
“What do you meanmight have?”
The boss sounded cranky, but Herbert understood the importance of getting this crop through to maturity. “I’m in Matakana. The two friends are here and the guy that hangs around her is up on stage. The girl singing. It could be her. She looks different, sounds different, but the body shape…it could be her.”
“Is it or isn’t it? I need her location. I can’t have her snooping around, seeing things she shouldn’t.”
“I’ll see if I can get closer to the stage and send you a video. You’ve seen her up close and talked to her.”
Come on, boss. Don’t lose it now. I’m counting on a good payday after we harvest the last of the weed.
“That’s an excellent idea,” Matthew agreed.
“All right, boss. My gut tells me it’s her. It might take me a while to get back to you. I don’t want to draw attention.”
“Thanks, Herbert.”
Herbert hung up and studied the crowd. He needed to stay away from the friends. They were near the front. Damn, this Katie-Jo person could sing. He’d Google her later, check his favorite online music store.
He skirted the crowd and found a position close enough to zoom in for a photo. While the quality and lighting wasn’t ideal, it might be enough for the boss to ID. And if not, he’d follow the guy onstage with her once he left the vineyard. Either way, he’d find Cassie Miller-Pope and make sure she didn’t learn they were using her property to make illegal income.
