“He says he doesn’t know.”
Darla gave Eric a scowl, which he returned with a playful grin. She ignored his flirtation. He could be as cute as he wanted. No more falling for him.
“I heard that Dugan had been spotted…” Eric shot Shane a sharp glare and shook his head. “Maybe some deranged fan?”
“Don’t know. But since you brought it up.” Eric took a swig of his drink and wiped his mouth with a paper towel. “We do have a fan that’s a little off. He has made a series of threats against us over the years. He’s been quiet for a while, though. I’d totally forgotten about him. He used to turn up at our performances to heckle us. He drew a gun on Finn in an elevator once. The police arrested him and hauled him away. That’s the last time he’s bothered us.”
“Must have happened before I met you.” Shane bit into an apple. “What was his problem with you?”
“He claimed we took women’s attention off him. Made it hard for him to get dates. Understand most of our fans were young, and he was older than we were. That should tell you what kind of mind he had.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“I don’t remember. I’m even having trouble recalling his last name, although his first was Cy. I want to say he lived in the northeastern part of the country, around the New England area, but he followed us everywhere, so I might be wrong. We had a restraining order against him. It might’ve run out by now. I need to check.”
“Not a bad idea under the circumstances.”
A quiet Darla finished her lunch, picked up her trash, and walked to the rear of the vehicle to get the supplies for Eric. She took the provisions back to the table.
“Take off the shirt,” she demanded.
“You’re not gonna help me, luv?”
Darla gave him an irritated glare. He chuckled as he unbuttoned the front.
“This is a lot worse than before,” she told him as she dabbed at the large amount of blood. “When we get to my parents, I advise you to find a doctor.”
His non-response gave her a clear perception of what he thought of her advice. Darla re-bandaged his wound while Shane gathered up the food and rest of the trash. Once redressed, Eric put on a clean shirt and grabbed a quick smoke. Shane declared his head was clear enough to take over the driving duties.
“Do you think you can drop me off at the next good-size town with an airport?” Shane stole a glimpse at Darla who sat in the passenger seat. “No offense, but I don’t want to go any further into Texas. I need to get back to California so I won’t miss my flight to Scotland tomorrow.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. A lot depends on the traffic, but we should be in San Antonio in about five hours.”
“Damn. Texas is a big state.”
“Yeah. Most people don’t realize you can’t drive through it in a short amount of time.”
“It’s hotter than hell here, too.”
Darla enjoyed sitting in the warm spring wind as the burning midday sun beat down upon them. California weather was nice, but she missed the Texas heat. This was wonderful to her.
Eric stirred in the backseat. “Never been to Texas before, Shane?”
“No.” Shane prodded in his pocket, pulled out his cell, and tossed the device to Eric. “Can you go online and make me some flight reservations back to Cali?” He started the SUV, directing the automobile onto the highway. “So Eric, we haven’t had an opportunity to talk, but what are you going to do now? Any luck on finding an attorney to help you get your money back?”
“I was researching my options before I became target practice, then we had this impromptu escape, so I haven’t had a lot of time to do a proper investigation. Darla’s got a brother who’s a lawyer. She thinks he might be able to help.”
Darla glanced at Eric. “So what’s with this song you guys keep talking about?”
“Blaine and I formed our own group. We’re performing the kind of music we’ve always wanted to play, and Shane’s got us moving in the UK.”
“Are the radio stations here playing anything by you?”
“If you listen to stuff like Raging Impulse, then probably not. Our sound is harder, edgier. You wouldn’t know Impulse members are involved. We decided to keep our connection quiet for obvious reasons. Up until now, the move has been a smart one.”
“What’s your band’s name?”
“Spiraling UP.”
“Hey, I have heard a song by you. You guys are good.”
“There are a couple of smaller stations in the area that’ve been playing the tune,” Shane said. “And their music does well because it’s not like the kiddie crap they use to play.”
Darla frowned at Shane and shook her head.
“Sorry. What I meant is your sound is more adult.”
Eric laughed. “You can call it kiddie music, hell, most of it was crap. I can say that because I wrote a lot of those tunes. The songs from that era weren’t our choice. Our manager and record label determined what we played. That’s why I like working as an independent so much better.”
“I happened to enjoy Raging Impulse’s music,” Darla interrupted.
“Females do.”
Shane grinned. “The tight pants you guys wore didn’t hurt you in the woman department either.”
“Yeah, it did bring in the ladies.” Eric lay down and closed his eyes. “That’s the only good thing I have to say about being in a boy band.”
Darla checked on Eric often. His complexion slowly paled until he’d turned white as snow. His lips looked almost bloodless. He didn’t wake up when they’d dropped Shane off at the airport. At dinnertime, she forced him to get up, though he had a difficult time staying awake, and he barely touched any food.
After the meal, she redressed his wound. The bleeding had lessoned, but the redness spread. The injury troubled her, although voicing her concern once again fell on deaf ears. He popped more meds, smoked another cigarette, and returned to the backseat. After he settled, he immediately was asleep.
Darla drove the final leg of the drive, allowing the high beams to guide her down the familiar roads to her home. Her gazed remained glued to the bug splatted windshield. The last miles were the longest part of the journey. She wheeled into her family’s driveway, threw the vehicle into park, and bounced out of the car. Her parents and younger brother waited in the front yard. Everyone hurried to meet her as Darla ran to them throwing her arms around all of them.
Amid the enthusiasm an alarmed voice came from behind. “Um, Darla. We’ve got a problem.”
Darla turned. She clapped a hand over her mouth to hold in a scream. Her brother knelt next to Eric, who lay limp, passed out face down in the graveled driveway.
****
He tossed Finn’s credit card on the seat next to the takeout bag as he sailed away from the drive thru. His mouth watered from the overflowing aroma of a double meat and large fry filling the car’s inside.
He’d wanted to hold off. Eat his meal at Finn’s place. But it’d been a while since he’d had any decent junk food, and he couldn’t wait another minute for his dinner. Starved, he seized the burger from the sack, ripped the paper away, and took a huge bite. He released an enormous sigh as he savored the flavor, not understanding how Finn lived on crackers, cheese, drinking only whiskey or soda.
Actually, Finn wasn’t living at all. He chuckled. Finn was dead. For safety measures, he drove back and forth down the block before he pulled into Finn’s garage. He exited the car he’d borrowed, deeming his motorcycle too messed up to ride now. And he stayed away from the house he’d used for the time being, just in case. So he planned to help himself to Finn’s stuff for the next few hours.
He entered through a side door. He’d come and gone since Eric discovered Finn’s body, but avoided the room where the slaying occurred. Even though he murdered the guy, he couldn’t stomach going into that bedroom. While he did retain some sort of conscience, he was fine occupying the rest of the place and used it freely.
Once the police and news vans left and the coroner’s office carted Finn away, everyone disappeared. The house remained quiet. Nobody cared much about a murder these days. Up until now, no one asked him for additional ID nor did they question whether he was Finn O’Conner, though his death blared throughout every media outlet. This evening, he managed to come and go at ease enjoying Finn’s car, home, and a slew of credit cards left on the dresser. People’s indifference disgusted him.
He sat down on a sofa, picked up the remote, and flipped on the TV while he continued to eat his dinner. He marveled over his circumstances. Good as things were, he couldn’t take many chances or become cocky. A tropical island without extradition was waiting for him. Time to get rid of Eric and Blaine. And after, he planned to disappear. Forever.
Chapter 18
A muffled noise hauled Eric out of a deep sleep. Stretched out in a strange but comfortable bed, he fought to keep his eyes open, blinking rapidly until he became fully awake. He struggled to sit. Once up, he straightened to catch a better view of the room hoping for a hint of where he was, and wondered how the hell he got here.
The bed faced large double windows that covered one wall. The unclosed blinds allowed the springtime’s brightness to gleam inside and formulate a ladder pattern across the floor. The sun’s position had him guessing the time to be somewhere around mid-morning. Located next to the windows were two shallow closets with folded mirrored doors. The remaining space exhibited various awards. Several posters of muscle cars and a couple of swimsuit models Eric remembered were popular a few years back also were tacked on the walls with red pushpins. The faint whiff of maleness lingered throughout. The assortment of odds and ends scattered at random made him think he was trapped in a teenage boy’s sanctuary.
“You’re awake,” came a deep voice from the doorway.
Eric jerked. His attention shifted in the direction of a commanding presence who’d stepped into the room. The man was thin, tall, his skin tanned and leathery. Eric didn’t possess the knack of guessing ages, but this guy appeared to be in his early sixties. His hair was dark, streaked with strips of white. He wore it long, parted down the middle, and tied into a ponytail. It hung midway down his back. Kind of like a throw-back hippy.
“How’s the arm?” Familiar dark eyes scrutinized Eric.
The two men sized each other up. The bloke may look similar to pictures Eric had seen of peace-loving, flower children of the sixties though his gut instincts nudged him, saying this person was anything but mellow. This was not someone to mess with.
“Hey, you’re up.”
Eric jumped again. He swung his gaze to the doorway. Darla strolled into the room. Engrossed with his surroundings and this stranger, seeing her surprised him, but only for a moment.
Her sudden appearance triggered a rush of familiar memories. Someone shot him. He’d traveled with her to avoid a killer, who might be after him and Blaine. They’d recently arrived in Texas on their way to Darla’s family. Events up throughout the day were mostly clear, although last night’s dinner seemed vague and after that, everything was fuzzy.
He looked at her. “How long have I been asleep?” He fought the sudden longing for a cigarette, knowing better than to ask.
“Almost two days. You look a hundred times healthier now that you’re rested and had your arm attended to properly.” Darla shuffled to his bed and bent forward to inspect underneath the bandage around his bicep. She murmured so only he could hear, “Told you to get some help.” She taped the gauze back in place, stood up, and smiled at him. “Healing nicely.”
Eric fell against the headboard. “You took me to another doctor?”
“Not exactly.” Darla left his bedside to go to stand by the man who observed Eric a little too closely for his liking. “Daddy fixed you up.”
“Daddy?”
She beamed at the lanky gentlemen next to her and gestured with a hand. “This is my dad, Lee Hennessy.”
Lee Hennessy nodded.
Intimidation shot through Eric. He made a point to shy away from parents, fathers in particular, although in retrospect he couldn’t avoid Darla’s because he was a guest in his home. Still, he hadn’t expected Darla’s dad to be, well, such a hard ass. A scary one, at that.
“Thank you for helping me.” Eric stared back at him. “I’m not sure what you did, but I feel a lot better. I suppose I was in worse shape than I realized.”
“Yes, you were.” Lee nodded. “The bullet in your arm had developed an infection. The wound itself wasn’t life threatening, the slug didn’t hit anything major. Went straight into the muscle, which is what the doctor told you, according to Darla. But when lodged into the skin, it took a small chunk of material from your shirt and that caused the problem.” He stepped to the dresser to pick up a tray. “The only thing alarming me was the possibility of blood poisoning. A red line from the area hit will trace back to the heart if toxins invaded your body. I checked. You didn’t show any signs. You shouldn’t, but we’ll watch it for a couple of days to make sure.” He rotated to Eric and held up the partial pellet with long tweezers. “I kept this for evidence in case the police need it. Flat point. Lodged directly into your flesh.”
Eric’s stomach lurched at the sight of the object meant to take his life. Lee dropped the bullet into the tray, a soft clink of metal hitting metal dinged. He circled away to return the dish and tweezers.
“Because you were already passed out, I was able to extract the shell without much trouble. I stuck you with a shot of penicillin. We’ve kept the area doctored with Betadine in regular intervals too. That, sleep, along with Darla’s momma’s treatment should heal you quick. You’ll be well soon, although expect some pain in the arm for the rest of your life. Gunshot injuries never completely go away.” He turned to Eric and with a stern expression stared at him directly in the eye. “Next time you start having any swelling of that magnitude, you get your ass to a hospital immediately, understand?”
Eric swallowed hard and glanced at Darla for guidance, who instead gave him a wicked grin.
“Yes, sir. Are you a doctor, sir?”
“Nope. I’m retired. I fish.”
Darla smiled at her father fondly. “Daddy was a medic in the military. After he did his tours, he worked as a paramedic on the island until he decided to give up work for relaxation a few years ago. He’s very familiar about this kind of stuff, so you’re well taken care of.”