“Can’t see anyone will notice. Let’s move away from the line of fire.”
He nudged her from the party’s tense atmosphere and to the side of the home, closer to the water. She relaxed against the banister, enjoying the secluded darker area. A salty fragrance filled the air as echoes of the breakers floated through the winds and a soft hum of waves synchronized with the final stages of dusk. Eric leaned on the rail next to her, his gaze fixated on her.
Darla took a tiny sip of her wine, hoping he didn’t notice her hand shake. “Are these parties always this wild?”
“Sometimes they’re worse. That usually brings in the rag mags. One of the reasons I want to get out of here. I’d prefer not to make the front page of the tabloids.”
“What a treat.”
He chuckled. “Been in news enough. Believe me, there’s no pleasure.”
A chilly blast of wind lifted sand particles from the beach and stung her skin. Nevertheless, the coolness was refreshing. Darla’s nerves began to settle. Perhaps her new composure originated from the security of the darkness, the wine, or because of the nearby ocean’s gentle hush.
Not that any of those factors overshadowed the vibrant presence of the man next to her. His nearness kept her senses on high alert. Yet, she was glad her nerves were no longer in knots, and a tiny part of her could enjoy the excitement of spending the evening with the gorgeous Eric Boyd.
“I guess you have experienced some sensationalist journalism attacks. You were in a band, right?”
“I was. Fame came sudden. Didn’t handle it well. I paid the price. I’ve done much better since we broke up. But there was a time my name seemed to be in the headlines every day. Vicious.”
“Lots of lies, huh?”
“Not exactly.” The dim reflection of light revealed a small curve of his mouth. “They’re vicious about the truth.”
“Their type of reporting is so spiteful and malicious. I can’t imagine anyone respectable condoning that kind of work, much less publishing it.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “But they do.” He tossed the smoldering butt over the edge, then found his shirt pocket again and removed the cigarette package and his lighter. He shook out another, placed the filter between his lips, and lit up. “I know it’s not my business but why were you at this party tonight?”
“Long story.”
She clamped her mouth shut, refusing to go there. Not this evening and not with him. The darkness prevented her from seeing his eyes although she sensed his gaze on her. He wouldn’t give her a pass on this.
He picked up his glass and took a long drink. “It’s early, and I’ve got time.
“To be honest, I’m beat. I didn’t sleep much last night. I want to finish my wine, head home, take a hot bath, and go to bed.”
Eric grinned. “I like the sound of that,” he said in a low and easy voice.
Darla’s knees buckled. She clutched the stem of her glass, almost tumbling to the ground. Was he flirting with her? She should flirt back. She wanted to, except her tongue retied itself.
She coughed before finding her vocal cords again. “I’m making this short because I am tired. I was with a guy for several years. We were getting serious, but his affluent family convinced him, and by convinced I mean they held his trust fund over his head, to dump me and get engaged to someone within their social circle. That was two months ago. They’re getting married this evening.”
“At least it explains why you were a stray tonight.”
“Right.” She took a ragged breath of air, loving the fact her new prospective object of affection clearly believed she didn’t belong in his world despite her crappy circumstances. “My friend Stephanie heard about this party earlier today. She suggested we come here to meet some different people, so we’re checking things out.”
Neither spoke. The silence amplified by a sudden wind gust. Foggy clouds trailed a cold current of air, rolling overhead to blanket the night sky. A faint boom rumbled in the distance.
Darla hugged her middle with her free arm and eyed the rotating swirls above. “Looks like we might have some bad weather blowing in.”
“You probably should try another kind of party to meet people.”
“Sure, wait, what?” Her interest returned to Eric. “Why should I find a different type of party? You didn’t seem to be having any problems.”
“Yeah, but that’s the kind of crowd I hang with.”
Two women wearing micro bikinis strolled past them. Each flashed a sexy grin at Eric before they giggled and hurried downstairs toward the beach.
“Naked females are the kind of crowd you hang with?”
Eric laughed. “I go a little wild when I get out. I’ve been a bit repressed over the years.”
Darla rocked back on her feet. “You sure don’t act suppressed to me.”
“My former manager was something of a dictator. A long story in itself but we, my band mates and me, were prisoners of our success for many years. Now the guy’s no longer a part of our lives. We’ve gone kinda crazy from the freedom.”
“I did read once you guys were squeaky clean types.” Darla grinned and pointed to his glass. “You only drink milk, right?”
He laughed again. “There might’ve been a few lies printed about us.” Thunder rolled, closer. Eric looked up. “You called it. We are in for some nasty weather. We should get going.” He tossed his cigarette over the side. “Ready?”
Darla headed toward the stairs, her hand slid along the rail.
Eric shadowed her close behind. “What do you do for a living?”
“I teach geology at a local college while I work on my PhD.”
“Ah, smart girl.”
They were almost to the bottom when the lights from inside the house flickered like before. A thunderous blast boomed and shook the staircase where they stood. The discharge was reminiscent of the fake gunshot earlier. Then the place became dark again.
“What th—” Eric twisted around.
Darla flinched and cranked her neck too.
Flashes of lighters and cell phone lights made the area murky. A rush of guests exited one more time. Screams followed by a large amount of swearing echoed above running footsteps. Darla and Eric dodged and ducked to evade getting trampled by the charging masses as the mob fought to make their escape. People then disappeared in every direction.
Darla raised her voice over the noise “Looks like the party is over.” She looked around. “I wonder what happened now.”
A faint resonance of sirens screamed in the distance. Those pesky anxieties returned as tiny chills peppered her neck.
Eric mounted two steps then glanced back at her. “I don’t think we want to hang around to find out.” He climbed down and touched her arm lightly. “Let’s go.”
Shrieks continued to rise from the darkness. “Stop him,” a voice yelled.
“Don’t let him get away,” someone else cried.
Heavy strides pounded across the wooden planks. Darla spun halfway around. A shadowed blur smacked into her and shoved her onto the staircase support. The shaded figure hit the ground and sprinted underneath the deck.
“Hey,” Eric shouted. “Watch where you’re going, fucker.” His hand slid across her back and drew her against him. He gently straightened her and stroked her arm. “You okay?”
Darla caught her breath and nodded. “He startled me but I’m fine.”
Groups of partiers dashed from the darkness. A rev of an engine echoed, as the headlight of a motorcycle whizzed from beneath. The cluster of people scattered as the bike penetrated the circle, drove up the beach’s incline, and disappeared into the night.
Eric turned to a bystander and tapped him on the shoulder. “What happened in there?”
“The gunshot was genuine this time.” The man pointed at the elevated dust made by the departed bike. “He had a gun. And he didn’t miss. He just killed someone.”
Chapter 3
Emergency lights pulsated streaks of red across the shoreline where police vehicles lined parallel along the curb surrounding the neighborhood. An ambulance had parked in the driveway, its doors wide open. Waiting.
“This is taking forever,” Eric groaned. “I wish they’d hurry.” Arms folded across his chest, he leaned against the deck’s banister and watched the crime scene personnel cautiously shift about collecting evidence then taping off the area.
“Murder investigations take a while.” Darla sat on the bottom step rolling the empty wineglass between her palms. She glanced toward the home crawling with detectives before she returned to Eric. “I’m sure this case is going to be difficult to solve with so many people involved, especially when a bunch of them disappeared before the police arrived.”
“Still no reason to keep us this long,” he mumbled.
This was the most Eric had spoken since the authorities arrived. Once he seemed reassured of her safety after tussling with the motorcycle guy, things between them settled into an uneasy silence. Darla had long given up on getting him to talk. The whole night altered from something wonderful into a huge horrific, nightmare.
She didn’t blame him for his impatience. For the past several hours the two of them remained parked at the foot of the house. A photographer snapped photographs outside and presumably inside, while uniformed police officers milled through the crowd taking information from the guests. The party goers who’d stayed drifted about speaking in hushed tones. Everyone appeared on edge.
Eric studied the veiled sky. “At least the rain’s stalled.” He heaved his body away from the railing to sit on the step next to her. Lightning flickered, jumping from cloud to cloud as booms rattled above. The strong breeze carried the distinct smell of rain. The storm had been a slow mover, though the grumbled churns progressed.
“Not for long, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, they need to speed up the interviewing. We don’t wanna end up as lightning conductors. The idea of being fried into something extra crispy doesn’t thrill me.”
“They’ll let us leave as soon as they get our statements.” Exhausted, Darla didn’t want to appear disrespectful toward the dead either, but she wished the authorities would hasten the process too. She wanted to rush home to check the locks on the doors and windows, just in case. “Though, I’d rather the police hang around since a killer is on the loose in our neighborhood.”
“The guy is long gone. The person killed was marked. Probably a drug deal turned bad.”
“What makes you think so? Has something like this happened before?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Speculation. An assassin waltzes in and shoots someone with hundreds of people around, and no one can identify him. Gotta be a hit and done by a pro. Could be over money or maybe a defunct affair.”
“I’m withholding my opinion until we get an official word from the authorities.”
Eric stared at the sky again. “You do that.”
Seconds ticked by converting into minutes. Strong winds thrust the surf near the deck propelling an icy mist to lightly blanket them. The added damp annoyance didn’t motivate Eric to move, therefore Darla stayed put too.
“Does this happen a lot? Do all of your parties result in homicides or is tonight a onetime occurrence I got lucky enough to experience?”
“I’ve been going to these things for years. Seen overdoses, a couple of suicide attempts, and one heart attack, but never a murder. Nothing surprises me, though.” A corner of Eric’s mouth lifted. “Welcome to my world.”
“What about the victim? Do you think you may know him?”
“I suppose there’s a possibility, but I doubt it.” He retrieved his smokes. “I’m only acquainted with a handful of people here. I’ve never met most of them, and that includes the guy who threw this disaster.”
“Eric?” came a masculine voice from behind.
Eric looked up from lighting his cigarette. “Shane.” He rose from the step and climbed over Darla to meet the person approaching them. “I wondered what happened to everyone.”
A sturdy, light-haired man stopped at the side of the stairwell in front of them.
“Blaine got a date. Finn and his asshole brother declared the party too tame, and they went to find something more exciting. Drake talked about cutting out. S’pose he wanted to get home to his bride.” The man glanced around, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Hell of a situation. Do you know who it was? Who was killed?”
The new arrival turned and glimpsed at Darla, giving her a brief nod.
“Nope.” Eric pointed at her. “That’s Darla.” He swung his lit cigarette toward the guy. “This is my manager, Shane McIntyre. He’s with Blaine and me.”
A quick but peculiar look passed across Shane’s face before his expression altered into a smile. He extended a hand. “You’re not a regular at these bashes, are you?”
“My first time.” She stood and brushed her palm down her skirt before she took his offered hand.
A policeman strolled to the threesome and told Eric they were set to question him.
“Good. I’m past ready,” Eric mumbled, then said louder, “Stay with her, Shane. She’s a bit nervous after all of this.” His eyes shifted to her. “I’ll be back.”
Shane flashed another puzzling expression. Darla’s cheeks burned. Her throat tightened as she swallowed a trace of anger. This guy must hold the same opinion as Eric on her appearance here tonight. Even though the belief was true, she’d grown tired of the insinuations that she didn’t fit in.
“Not a great impression of our bunch, huh?”
Darla released a bitter chuckle. “It’s been an interesting experience.”
He cast a glance over his shoulder to where Eric stood. “You’ve known Eric long?”
“We met tonight.” She stepped from the deck and onto the sand, moving around the tall, wooden handrail to get a better view of the man who’d captivated her attention the entire evening. “You’re his manager.”
“Right,” he replied blandly.
“You seem familiar. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“I don’t think so. I was inside earlier. You may’ve seen me at the party.”
Darla nodded. “In Raging Impulse’s group along with their many lady friends. I bet I’m making the connection from that.” She clutched the glass between her hands. “Eric mentioned a former manager who controlled and repressed the band. I’m assuming you’re not the person he’s referring to?”
Shane’s stare was blank before her question apparently registered. “No. I only work with Eric and Blaine. Our professional association is fairly new, although I’ve known them for several years. I took the job a few months ago. I usually stay in Scotland, but I travel to the states often. I have a son in the UK, so my visits are never long.”