My fiancé steals the mug out of my hand, sips, and smirks.
Then, the sneak thief lowers into one of the rickety kitchen chairs. “Not much. Only how he’d rather cut off his right arm than damage the amp. I think he’s in love.”
“Helluva way to get replacement parts. I wonder if he does it with the power on or off?” Reaching across the table, I snatch my cup back, and Sienna cracks up.
“He did show us this.” I play the video of how, right before the concert started, the star of the show tugged the guitar plug out of the amp.
“Oh my God. It was making noise as people were arriving. I figured Cal would adjust something when he got onstage. That looks real bad, doesn’t it?”
I hold forth my phone, my app transcribing everything into notes I can review later. “What time did you touch the plug?”
“I don’t know, maybe seven-thirty or so.” The famous country singer stares into space, shivering, no doubt reliving the hours before Cal’s death.
Scowling, Andy turns to Suds. “You need to talk to the roadies.”
“Weeds.” Sienna’s eyes widen. “That’s who you need to find. He’s the only stage hand Cal will, I meanwould, let touch his stuff.”
Her husband grabs a plain donut from the white box in the middle of the table, then chews for a while, deep in thought, mouth full. “I emailed you his number but I’m not buying it. This plan was too well thought out. It sounds like something her ex would do.”
“Tell us a little more about him.” Ignoring the good angel on my shoulder, I snatch a powdered jelly donut and take a bite of gooey yumminess.
Waiting for the sugar-high to rush through my veins, the country singer sighs and closes her eyes. “You must’ve heard something. A few years ago, it was all over the news.”
“Not much.” I lie. At the time, I worked for the FBI and studied the case extensively. Still, I’d rather hear the story from her.
Sienna twists her head to kiss Andy’s dark growth, and standing, stretches. Even though there’s leftover coffee in the carafe, she grinds beans. When the noise stops, she searches for a filter, and opens door after door.
Pouring water into the pot, she takes a deep breath and lets it out. “My God, I was so, so young, married right out of high school. And Peter was everything I wasn’t. He was suave, sophisticated, the son of one of the richest men in America. He was Prince Charming to my Cinderella. Then, came the plane crash, the investigation, and the lawsuits. His relatives created a fake pre-nup and I was thrown out on my ass with only my guitar and the clothes on my back.”
“What kind of family does that?” I catch Suds’ eyes, remembering his isn’t much better.
Our client taps me on the shoulder. “It gets worse. A couple years later, I was recording brook sounds in a small forest near his estate and was certain I heard his voice. The police didn’t believe me. Thank God Andy did or I’d be dead.”
Her husband smiles, grabs her hips, and pulls her back on his lap. “Good thing I ignored your attempts to fire me.”
She kisses him. “I never hired you.”
“Did too.”
“No, you stole my last dollar from my purse. That don’t count.” She laughs and turns to kiss him. “Anyhow, to make a long story short, Peter rises from the dead and wants his share of his life insurance money. His brother refused to give it up so my ex killed him and ended up with a life sentence. If I hadn’t heard him in the woods, he would’ve gotten away with it.”
“There’s a whole lot of motive in what you said.” Suds shakes his head.
With the mood in the room so dark, I need to add something positive. “Hey, I have Jason searching all of Olafson’s interactions for the last year. If he was behind it, the AI will find proof.”
Slate leans his elbows onto the table. “We’re missing something, I know it. What about the song Cal tried to steal? How much is it worth and who did he try to sell it to?”
Closing her eyes to avoid his gaze, Sienna’s mouth tightens. “Normally, it’d go for a few thousand but if I kicked the bucket, the sky is the limit.”
“Does the DA have anything else?” I direct my question to Andy whose eyes flit to his wife, creased with worry.
“They found lyrics to a new song she’s working on.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” Sienna’s mouth drops open as she puts her hands on her hips and glances around the table. “It’s about a jilted woman getting revenge on a man who wronged her, not murder.”
Suds eyes narrow. “What aren’t you two telling us?”
Sienna closes her eyes and belts out a song.
