Betsy crosses her arms over her large chest. ‘If I had heard a voice like that, I would have remembered.’
I’m saying nothing. There are two practically priceless guitars missing from the walls and a whole mess of an admin situation going on because I happened to leave the door to the studio open. No way am I going to tell them it’s my voice on the tape, and there’s not a chance in hell that I’m going to admit to recording it late last night just before the office got turned over.
Marco drags a hand down his face with a groan. ‘Christ, I’m losing my mind. That voice. Clara…’ He turns to me.
Yet again, I feel weak at the knees; what the hell am I going to do now? He’s found me out. Those guitars are worth more than my mortgage. I’m brewing a crush on an unachievable love interest. He’s…
‘You said you signed everyone in downstairs?’
I nod, relief washing over me. ‘Maybe I missed a few, but most of them I got because of the lanyards. I can tie that in with the call sheets.’ Useful, I think to myself, just hold on to being useful.
‘Great.’ He draws in a long breath.
‘But…’ Jeff is frowning. ‘I just don’t remember that…’ He waves towards the deck. ‘I mean, I’m pretty sure I would if I’d heard it.’
Terry scratches his chin. ‘Maybe we didn’t see her. Is there anything else on that tape?’
Jeff rewinds it through the machine. ‘No, it’s blank apart from that one song.’
‘Hmm.’ Terry’s eyes narrow. ‘It’s kind of odd, don’t you think?’
‘I mean, we would definitely have noticed a voice like that.’ Jeff stares at the tape.
‘So,’ Marco says, drawing out the word. ‘You’re thinking maybe someone brought a demo tape in and just left it? They didn’t audition, so we didn’t hear them live?’
I have no intention of getting involved in this. ‘Anyone want breakfast?’ I ask brightly. I’d love to be anywhere but here.
‘No,’ all the men say together, as though they’ve got good old Evelyn waving her conductor’s baton to keep them in sync.
‘Next, you’re going to say it was the burglar!’ Betsy laughs unkindly, but I can’t help noticing that she hasn’t crossed her arms. She’s intrigued by the voice, too.
Marco takes the cassette in his fingers. ‘These are pretty standard. Get them anywhere.’
Like in this very studio, I think, but I’m clearly not going to add that kind of useful to the mix.
‘My guess is,’ Marco nods his head sagely, ‘someone left it here by accident. One of the auditions. Someone came in to support a friend auditioning and…’
‘So.’ Jeff smiles, the bright spark of an idea catching in his eyes. ‘They might not even have been auditioning. It could even be a professional, a teacher, or someone they’re trying to emulate.’
Marco nods. ‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘Marco,’ Fitz whines. ‘You’ve found your “voice”. Let’s go for brekky. The guys can handle it from here.’ She glances around the room. ‘Right, boys?’
I don’t know how I fit in with the ‘boys’ but I get the feeling I’m included.
‘If you want to find this woman,’ Fitz continues. ‘I mean, yes, she was good. I like the tune thing. Although it was kind of old, so I’m guessing she’s old.’
Donna Summer is a classic, but I don’t bother to pick her up on that.
‘People will know her. Just go to all the clubs in town.’ Fitz shrugs easily. ‘If she’s that good, she’s bound to be singing somewhere.’
‘Ah ha!’ Marco jumps up from where he’s been perched and spins Fitz around in a whirl like she is just the brightest and the best. Like they’re kids. Just like they’re kids.
In turn, Fitz tips back her head and laughs. ‘You are crazy, Marco Delagado.’
Oh dear, I think, watching with envy as she does a full rotation, her dark curtain of hair spinning, her white teeth flashing like a lighthouse, his lovely thick, tanned arms wrapped around her tiny waist. This man is clearly not available.
‘And you, Fitz, have the best ideas,’ Marco says as he pulls away from her.
