Smoke and Mirrors - Hollywood Knights One (14 page)

I nodded and stepped through the door. As I did, I
heard a voice I knew better than my own boom over the PA system.
Soon after, I heard the opening notes to a song I’d listened to a
million times. Tears welled in my eyes. I had finally made it to
one of Seth’s shows, and it was the last place on Earth I wanted to
be.

Chapter Thirty

I spent the entire concert dreading what would come
after. When Seth walked into the room, sweaty and beaming, I
thought I might be sick. When he saw me and his face lit up, it was
almost more than I could bear.

Erica met him just inside the door. She introduced
herself as Agent Richards and told him she’d like to ask him some
questions about his association with Hailey Sparks.

He looked past Erica and caught my eye. “What’s this
about?”

I shook my head. “You need to answer her
questions.”

My voice sounded washed out. Pained. Seth picked up
on it, and he crossed his arms against his chest. Possibly the
gesture was meant to look defensive and macho, but I knew better;
he was trying to comfort and protect himself and keep his hands
from shaking.

“What is this about?” his voice strained. “Has
something happened to Hailey?”

“Ms. Sparks is a person of interest to the FBI.
She’s currently in police custody.”

Seth just stood there, wide-eyed, shaking his head.
I forced myself to stand and cross the room to rest a hand on his
arm. He reached up with his other hand to twine our fingers
together. He looked around and noticed his band mates being
questioned by other agents.

“This isn’t happening,” he said, his voice little
more than a whisper.

I squeezed his hand. “It’ll be okay.”

Erica and I led Seth to the sofa I’d recently
vacated, and I sat beside him, holding his hand, while he answered
Erica’s questions. Slowly, he put the pieces together. I saw it in
his face when he finally accepted the truth of what was
happening.

“I’m a goddamn idiot,” he said, cutting Erica off in
the middle of a question.

Erica leaned forward and looked Seth in the eye.
“Some people are skilled liars, Mr. Webber. From what little we’ve
learned so far, Hailey Sparks seems to be one of those people. If
our conclusions are correct, you’re not the first person to trust
her when he shouldn’t have. Or the second. Or the third.” She took
a deep breath. “She’s a scam artist, Mr. Webber. She’s a
professional liar. You can’t blame yourself for not being able to
see past those lies. That would be like trying to...”

Erica seemed hard-pressed to come up with a decent
analogy, so I stepped in. “It would be like being pissed at
yourself for not being able to summon fire when all you’ve got is a
shitty talent for seeing the future.”

That shocked a laugh out of Seth. His eyes went to
Erica, and then he nodded, understanding that she was clued-in.
“Yeah, well, I happen to know you hate that about yourself. I can
hate myself for being blind and stupid.”

I freed my hand from his and slid my arm around his
shoulders. He leaned against me, and I held him a little tighter.
We sat quietly for a moment, and then he looked up at Erica.

“Are we done?”

“For now. If I have any more questions, I’ll call
you. You may be asked to supply a formal deposition, as well.”

Seth nodded. “Sure.” He sat up straight and
stretched a little, took a deep breath, and then scrubbed his face
with his hands. “Right now, I would just like to go get very, very
drunk.”

Erica did something I’d rarely seen her do while
working: she reached out and gave Seth’s shoulder a little squeeze.
“I don’t blame you. Just do me a favor? Don’t drink alone.” She
nodded toward me. “Jen could use a drink or twelve, too, and I know
damn good and well she won’t do it if someone doesn’t make her do
it.”

Seth gave Erica a sad, tired smile. “I might can
arrange that.”

Erica went to check on her team, and after a minute,
Seth sighed again and slouched back against the not entirely
comfortable sofa. Another minute passed, and then he asked, “So?
How about it?”

“Probably not the best way to deal with the
situation, but we could make it work...if the liquor stores weren’t
closed and the bars weren’t going to be closed before we could get
to them.”

Seth sighed again.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way you can get away
for a couple of days? Take some time to process everything?”

He shook his head. “It would mean cancelling gigs,
and I’m not going to do that.”

“When’s your next show?”

“Tomorrow night. Somewhere in south Houston.
Corporate event.”

I checked the time. “Bar it is, then. If we hurry,
maybe we can make it to your hotel before they quit serving.”

Seth nodded and dragged himself off the sofa. He
grabbed a duffle-bag, spoke to a couple of people who weren’t busy
being questioned, and got a sweaty hug from JT. Then he made a
‘come hither’ gesture and headed for the exit. I heaved myself up
and followed.

Somehow, we managed to make it to my car without
anyone recognizing or accosting Seth. I counted that as a minor
miracle.

We climbed inside the rental skate, and I asked,
“Where to?”

“I don’t want to go back to the fucking hotel,” he
said. “Her shit’s in my room. I can’t be there.”

“Oh.” I pondered for a moment, but came up with
nothing. “So...where to?”

“Just drive.” He paused, then added, “Please.”

“As you wish.”

I saw the barest hint of a smile touch Seth’s lips
as I turned to check my rearview mirror. I figured a half-assed
smile was better than no smile.

Once I got out of the parking lot, I did as Seth
asked and just drove. I had no idea where we were or where to go at
first, but then a memory, knocked loose by a road sign, worked its
way to the fore of my brain, and that memory turned into a plan. I
took the next exit and followed the signs toward where I wanted to
go. Seth, for his part, stared blankly out the window. I probably
could have driven him to L.A. or Mexico or an insane asylum and he
wouldn’t have even noticed.

When I saw a gas station ahead, I exited. Seth
roused a little when the car came to a stop, even going so far as
to get out of the car when I did.

“You want anything from inside?” he asked as I
punched buttons on the gas pump.

“A drink would be good.”

“Cool. Be right back.”

I shook my head as he walked away. He really was in
a fog; he hadn’t even asked what I wanted to drink. It didn’t
matter much, anyway.

While I filled the gas tank, I also
pulled out my phone to check on some things and fire off a couple
of texts. I got a text right back and filed the info away. I had
just finished pumping the gas and was climbing back into the car
when Seth appeared with a bag of goodies. He pulled out a can of RC
and handed it to me, then produced a Gatorade and proceeded to make
the contents vanish. I didn’t know it was possible to drink an
entire bottle of
anything
in the time it takes to pop the tab on a soda can.
Impressive. Even if some of that time had actually been taken up by
me staring at the can wondering how Seth had known what I would
want to drink.

I shook off my surprise at both actions and put the
car in gear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Seth pull out a
bottle of soda and a package of powdered sugar donuts.

“We can get real food, you know.”

“Awesome,” he said, ripping into the package of
donuts. “Now that the shock is wearing off, I’m fucking
starving.”

“What sounds good?”

“Food,” he said around a mouthful of donut.

I rolled my eyes as best I could without taking them
off the road. “What kind of food?”

“The edible kind.”

I smacked him on the arm. “You better come up with
an answer, or I’m going to find a vegetarian restaurant.”

“Fuck that,” he said, spraying powdered sugar all
over the dash of the rental car. He waited until he’d chewed and
swallowed to speak again. “What about that place Elizabeth is
always going on and on about?”

“What place?”

“I don’t know. Taco something. Something about a
house or something.”

I laughed. “Taco Cabana.”

“Yeah.”

“GPS it, navigator.”

“Compliance,” he said, dusting sugar off his
fingers.

I laughed. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you actually
know that movie.”

“I know a lot of useless crap,” he reminded me. Then
he fell silent as he poked around on his smart phone trying to find
a nearby Taco Cabana.

We located the restaurant and bought some of the
brisket tacos that Elizabeth had raved about. They were pretty
damned tasty, too. By the time we’d finished eating them, we were
south of Houston, away from the strongest concentration of bright
lights and tall buildings. A short time later, the lights and
buildings thinned even more. Seth never questioned where we were
going. Either he trusted me or he just didn’t care.

But when we hit the big-ass bridge, he turned to
stare at me.

“Where the hell are we?” he asked.

In answer, I pointed to the signs along the bridge
that said, “Entering Galveston.”

“Huh.” He was quiet for a minute and then broke into
song. I have to admit, I liked his rendition of “Galveston” better
than I ever liked Glen Campbell’s. When he got to the chorus, I
even joined him.

“We sound pretty good together,” he said.

“Not bad,” I agreed.

Once we were on the island, I followed the
directions Elizabeth had texted to me. I turned right onto 61st, as
directed, and followed it down until it dead-ended into Seawall
Blvd. There, Seth and I got our first glimpse of the Gulf of
Mexico.

The wind was high that night, making the waves crash
against the pier directly across the intersection from where we sat
waiting for the light to change. I could see the water clearly in
the lights from the pier; everywhere else, the ocean was
dark—except for where the nearly full moon shone upon it, creating
an eerily beautiful reflection on the ceaseless waves.

The light turned green, and I hooked a left,
following the road along the seawall, a concrete construction
designed to protect the island from the ocean. I tried not to think
too much about that as I drove along, taking in the sight of the
moonlit whitecaps on my right and the island businesses on my
left.

Several miles down, I guided the car into a parking
space alongside the wide walkway that topped the seawall. Silver
handles protruded a few feet ahead of the car, indicating a
staircase that would lead us down to the beach and the sea.

Seth was out of the car as soon as I put it into
park. I popped the trunk and walked around to stow my wallet and my
gun; the sea salt wouldn’t do the Sig any favors, and I didn’t want
to risk losing my wallet. While I was ditching the weapon, Seth
stripped off his Chuck Taylor’s and his socks and threw them in the
trunk. Then he propped first one foot and then the other on the
bumper while he turned up the cuffs on his jeans. The night was
warm, but the sea wind was cool, so he opened his duffle and pulled
out a hoodie, but he didn’t put it on. Instead he headed for the
stairs with the sweatshirt in his hand. He didn’t wait for me, but
I hadn’t expected him to. I’d brought him here for a reason— to be
alone in the sort of place that could offer him peace and healing
he couldn’t find anywhere else.

At least that’s what the ocean had always been for
me. I knew there was a possibility that it wouldn’t be the same for
Seth, that he wouldn’t react the same way to the crashing waves and
salty air, but it was a chance I was more than willing to take.

I tossed my own shoes and socks in the trunk along
with everything else, shoved the car keys in my pocket, and
followed Seth down to the beach. He wasn’t the only one that could
use a little peace.

I meandered along for a while, just barely out of
reach of the incoming waves, soaking up the sound of the waves and
the sight of the moonlight glinting off the whitecaps. Eventually
my wandering brought me up alongside Seth, who was standing in the
crashing surf, singing softly to himself. I didn’t know the song,
but the words and melody were sad and haunting, and I felt a
tightness in my chest and my throat burned. I moved up behind him,
slid my arms around his waist, and rested my chin on his shoulder.
He brought his hands up to twine our fingers together.

When he stopped singing, I asked him, “One of
yours?” He just shook his head, so I let it go.

A few minutes later, he brought my arms down and
unclasped my hands. I took the hint and stepped back, giving him
some space. But when he turned to walk farther down the shoreline,
I followed, and without my telling him where I’d intended to go, he
found my destination: a concrete-paved jetty that jutted a hundred
yards or so out into the water.

Seth scrambled up the rocks piled along the sides of
the jetty and then turned to give me a hand, which I took even
though I didn’t need it. When I reached the top and was standing on
level ground again, he switched hands so that we could walk down
the jetty hand in hand until we were surrounded by nothing by sea
and sky.

I’m not sure how long we stood out there, but it was
long enough for the cool sea breeze to chill me to the bone, even
through my hoodie. We might be in Texas, but it was still October,
and the night had turned cool even without the breeze. I tried to
ignore the chill, but it wasn’t the easiest thing to do. When Seth
turned to say something to me, he could tell I was freezing.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re cold?” he chided. He
pulled me close to him, hugging me against the warmth of his
body.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“Sure you are. We should find somewhere to get you
warm.” I noticed that, despite his words, he didn’t seem in any
hurry to leave.