Raising her elbows, she shook his hands off her shoulders.
“I’m glad you’ve changed, Lance. I really am. Unfortunately, nothing you say or do will change the things you’ve done. I’ve changed too, and I’m through bad choices. I’m not coming back. Ever. I’m making a new life for myself and Kallie here, and you’re not going to be a part of it.”
“Is there a problem here?” Robert asked, approaching Lance from behind.
Lance spun around. The surprise, followed by a flash of fear that crossed his face as he spotted the two men, suggested he hadn’t paid attention to their arrival. Robert and Ben both stood a few l inches taller than Lance and their athletic builds, no doubt intimidated him, not to mention Robert’s uniform.
“Thanks, gentlemen,” Amy said, smiling at them, “but he’s leaving.” She folded her arms and glared at Lance, daring him to argue.
“Amy, wait,” Lance said in a pleading voice. “I want to see Kallie.”
Amy’s stomach dropped. No way would she let Lance have Kallie. “Why now? You wanted nothing to do with her before.”
“She’s my daughter. I have a right to see her.”
“Lance, I don’t think that’s a good idea. She—”
Ben stepped between her and Lance and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “It’s time for you to leave.” His voice was firm, authoritative. “If you want to contact Ms. Lawson again, I suggest you call her lawyer.”
Robert’s gasp startled her. She stepped sideways and glanced at him. He stared at Ben, his mouth curved into a broad grin. She didn’t understand what just happened, but when Ben stepped aside, she saw Lance walking to his car holding a business card in his hand.
Good.
Lance paused after opening his car door and turned to give her one last look like he’d done every Friday and Saturday night after his band finished their gig at Charlie’s. The sight of Lance standing there triggered a memory with such clarity, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t recalled it before.
The air whooshed from her lungs as she remembered an older-model blue Suburban belonging to Lance’s greasy-haired drummer always parked next to Lance’s car in the back-parking lot at Charlie’s.
Amy sucked in a sharp breath. Could it be the Suburban Robert searched for?
No. It’s just a coincidence.
She searched her memory—did the drummer’s Suburban have a grill guard?
Yes! It looked like the pictures she’d seen online.
Another memory flooded her mind of accompanying Lance last October when he went to fire his drummer for missing gigs.
Walking down the lane with Lance, Amy spotted the drummer’s wife in the backyard pushing a baby in a swing. When she walked over to her, the woman lifted the baby from the swing and held her close. A blue-eyed baby dressed in a pink snow suit, with a tuft of blond hair sticking out from under the hood.
Amy’s heart thundered in her chest, and a tingling spread throughout her body.Was that Cassey?
“Lance, wait!” She ran down the steps to his car.
He stopped in the process of getting into his car, his face full of hope.
“What was the name of your drummer last year?”
Lance’s face fell, and his brow furrowed. “What?”
Amy grabbed the front of his t-shirt in both fists. “I need you to tell me the name of the drummer you had to fire a year ago.” Her mind reeled as she pieced the memories together.
“Why? What does he have to do with anything?”
“You said things have been hard since you lost your drummer, and it reminded me that you had to fire your drummer last year when he became so unreliable. I need to know his name.”
“We always called himSticks, you know that.”
She yanked on his shirt. “I need his real name.”
