The Devil's Beat (The Devil's Mark) (18 page)

They finished the tour on the balcony overlooking the front hallway. Max started to lean on the railing at the edge of the balcony, but it wobbled alarmingly under his hands so he stood back to look down on the ruins of the once majestic house. He tried to picture what it was going to look like when it was restored to full glory. Mike stood beside him and looked over the same view, but from his scowl, he obviously saw something altogether different—like the list of challenges and headaches this house was going to cause him.

“Max, I have to be honest with you. Trying to restore this place will be like putting lipstick on a pig. This place is literally falling apart. You would be best served just bulldozing the whole thing and starting over. You could even make the new house, follow the same floor plan, only with electrical conduit, plumbing, heating, air-conditioning, and bathrooms.”

Max digested this for a moment and then said, “It wouldn't be the same, Mike. I want to restore her, not replace her.”

“Her, eh?”

Max smiled, “Yes, she's a real lady, this house, and she deserves better than to die in this state.”

Mike shook his head. “Max, that just doesn't make any sense. We're going to have to rip it up and replace almost everything anyway.”

Max said, “I don't care. We are going to keep as much of the original house as possible.”

Mike laughed ruefully, headed to the stairs. “Hell, you're going to make me earn that ten million, aren't you?”

Max smiled. “You got it, buddy.”

Mike headed down the stairs and looked back at his friend as he went. “Well, let me know when you change your mind. I can get some bulldozers to scrape this place in a couple of days for a few thousand dollars.”

As Mike was looking over his shoulder at Max, a plank on the step sprang up in front of his foot. His foot caught it and down he went—hard. He fell face first into the stairs with a sickening thud and then he rolled a couple of times before coming to a stop on the middle landing. “Mike!” yelled Max as he flew frantically down the stairs after his friend.

Mike disappeared in a crash of timbers as the landing gave way underneath him.

Max grabbed hold of the rail to try to keep himself from falling in the hole after Mike. The normally wobbly rail miraculously held, and Max found himself looking into a six-foot hole into a closed space with Mike at the bottom, covered with dust and broken boards.

To Max's relief, Mike wasn't dead, but he was moaning in pain.

“Mike, don't move! I'll be right down!

Mike rolled himself onto his back and lay there looking up at Max. His forehead was gashed and bleeding freely, and his right leg was twisted at a singularly disturbing angle. Mike blinked his one eye that didn't have blood pooling into it. “No 'dozers! Burn it! Just ten gallons of gasoline and whoosh!”

Max ran down the stairs as strains of “House of the Rising Sun” by The Animals was floating up from the music room. “Now mothers, tell your children, not to do as I have done…”

For once, Max was glad to have the bodyguards available. With Paul and his men's help, they were easily able to get into the closet space under the stair and carry Mike out to the car while ignoring Mike's bitter complaining.

Max turned to his head bodyguard. “Thanks Paul. I think you should stay here while I take him to the hospital.”

“No, sir,” said Paul simply. “We cannot be effective in our jobs if you leave us behind.”

The fear and adrenalin still pumping through Max brought out his old don't-fuck-with-me-I'm-a-world-famous-rock-star persona. It actually felt kind of nice as he put on his imperious voice. He said, “Paul, who are you working for?”

Paul replied simply, “Tony, sir.”

Max scowled and growled, “Who does Tony work for?”

“You, sir.”

“Yes, me. Now let me make this simple for you. If you don't do as I ask, then you are fired. If necessary, I will fire Tony as well. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, sir.”

Max was a bit taken aback by how easy that had been. He had forgotten how good it felt to boss people around. He let his voice go back to normal.

“All right, then. Wait here, and I'll see you here tomorrow.”

Paul's blank expression did not change. “No sir. We're coming with you.”

That took Max a second to process. “Was there something lost in the translation of what I just told you?”

“No, sir.”

“So you’re going to stay here.”

“No sir. As long as you employ us, it is our duty to stay by your side and keep you safe.”

“Fine, then you are fired.”

If this disturbed Paul in any way, it didn't show. He said, “Yes, sir. I feel obligated to point out to you that should you terminate our contract early, we will still be paid through the end of the month.”

“Okay fine. As a matter of fact, I will have Tony give you a bonus.”

“Yes, sir.” With that, Paul gave a piercing whistle that shot straight through Max's head and headed for one of the guards black sedans. Max watched in bemusement as the rest of the guards materialized from nowhere, and in short order, they got into the cars and drove away.

Mike groaned from the back Max's car. “That was very touching, Max, but I'm dying back here.”

“Oh right, sorry.” He turned, sat himself down in his car and headed down the long drive with faint echoes of "Hit The Road, Jack" by Ray Charles following them from the open window of the music room.

Max looked at Mike's white face in the mirror. “You gonna live, bud?”

Mike scowled. “Unfortunately, it seem so.” The two were silent for the rest of the ride. Max drove under the speed limit all the way to the hospital emergency room, where Max was getting depressingly well known. After a couple of hours, it was clear that Mike was not even close to death's door. He still looked like hell, and Max cringed every time he thought about what might have happened. He shook it off.

Max said, “Hey bud, I have a date to go buy a suit. I'll be back.” Max shook his finger at Mike. “Don't go anywhere.”

“You're funny Max, but smell isn't everything, you know,” said Mike. Before Max could turn away he added, “Max, you know that board wasn't loose before I started walking down the stairs. That house has it in for me!”

Max stopped and looked at his friend and considered it. Pre-Mississippi Max would have laughed it off as a ridiculous comment, but, now, he gave Mike a weak smile. “Well, maybe you shouldn't threaten to tear her down. Listen, I've got to scoot. I'll see you soon.”

As Max was leaving he heard Mike call from behind him, “Gasoline, Max! It's the only way to be sure!” He was beginning to agree.

A short time later, Max pulled in front of Alice's house. The three blonde girls were out front, playing again. The littlest one was running around the yard, randomly ripping up the white puffy dandelions, which infested their yard, and throwing them into the air. The middle one was swinging on the rickety swing set, and the oldest one was leaning against a small tree, reading. The yard was well shaded, with a few patches of hot sunlight hitting here and there. Max wondered why the kids weren't inside in air-conditioned comfort.

When he got out of the car and went around to the front walk, all six eyes were on him. The one on the swing got up and ran into the house. The little one, now dressed in a yellow summer dress with her hair pulled back in messy yellow pigtails, skipped over to Max. “Hello mister Max. Are you going to take my mama out on a date tonight?”

“Well, I'm not sure—”

“That's good, because Mama works too hard. She needs to go play. Everyone has to play, you know?” She imparted this wisdom of the ages solemnly.

Max nodded and pursed his lips. “That's true—”

“What she needs to do is get laid,” said the oldest one sourly from where she sat under the tree five feet away.

If the world were more poetic, Max would have been drinking a martini at a dinner party so he could have sprayed it all over his hostess. Instead, he just gaped at the young teen with no idea of how to respond. The little one said, “Yeah, she's always tired.” Max choked. He was rescued by Alice.

She called out from the front door. “Hi Max, I'll be right out. Girls, that's my friend Max, introduce yourselves and talk to him for a minute till I get my things! Remember your manners!”

“I'm Lily,” said the little girl standing in front of Max.

“Well, I'm pleased to meet you Lily,” said Max. He leaned down and held out his hand to her.

She looked at the offered hand dubiously. “Girls aren't supposed to shake hands.”

Nonplussed, Max stood up and dropped his hand. He said, “Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –”

The older girl under the tree scowled as she snapped out, “Don't be stupid, Lily. Women can shake hands just like men. You just don't have to.”

Angrily, Lily put her hands on her hips. “Uh, uh, Mama said so!”

“She did, not you little twerp!”

Lily puckered her lips belligerently and then whirled and ran to the house yelling, “Mama! Jayne Ann is being mean and telling lies!”

Max watched her go, uncertain what to do. Kids were just not his thing. Not wanting to make things worse, he turned to the girl scowling at him from under the tree and hesitantly said, “So, uh, you're Jayne Ann? Hi, I'm...”

“I know who you are! You fake!” She slammed her book closed, got up, and stormed off to the house.

The barb hit home hard. Max had no trouble understanding what she was talking about. Since his fall, he had spent a lot of time thinking that himself. He hadn't been able to pick up his guitar without being overwhelmed. He started to murmur, “damn” under his breath, but then caught himself. He tried to come up with a curse that didn't involve God or Jesus and only came up with “fuck,” which struck him as extremely unclassy as well as unsuitable for small ears.

He was still contemplating this conundrum when Alice came out the front door. All Max could do was stare. He had done her a disservice in his earlier estimation of her attractiveness. She beautifully filled out the pink, low cut dress he had bought for her when they shopped for his suit. It emphasized her smooth, tanned skin, wide hips, long legs, and heretofore unseen curves. Her hair was up in a complicated style that kept most of it on top, but ringlets fell on both sides of her sweet face. She definitely wasn't a girl like a lot of women that Max had known on tour. She was a woman in every sense of the word.

Max completely missed what she said. He started. “I'm sorry, what?”

Alice smiled at the unintended complement. “You really have a way with the girls.”

At first, Max thought she was talking about the way he was staring at her. His cheeks reddened, and he dropped his gaze. He started to stammer out an apology when he realized she was talking about her girls. A couple of times, midstream, he changed what he was saying. It came out something like, “Sorry, I, um, well, yeah, they are, well, I don't think Jayne Ann likes me terribly much.”

Instead of commenting on his blush, Alice apologized for her daughter. “Yeah, I'm terribly sorry about that. She had a huge crush on you before... before everything and... well, anyway she's... “She stopped herself and forced a smile at Max. “Hi, Max! Good to see you! How's your day?”

Max smiled in relief. “It's been, uh, interesting. I met three delightful little girls. I want to thank you for doing this for me. I hope it isn't too much of a bother.”

Her smile grew sunnier, and she said, “Oh, it's no bother, hon. It's nice to get out of the house and do something besides laundry for a change, so I should be thanking you.”

“Well, you are most welcome.” He gestured grandly to his car. “Shall we?”

She said, “We shall.” The two of them climbed into Max's car and headed out.

Along the way, after giving him directions to their first destination, Alice said, “So, why only interesting?”

“Huh?”

“Your day, silly, why did you say it was interesting?”

“Oh, that... Remember how I told you that my house was haunted?”

“Sure.”

“Well, it just tried to kill my friend Mike for threatening to doze it down and start over.”

“Oh, goodness! Is he alright? What happened?”

“He was walking down the stairs when a board popped up and he went flying ass over teakettle. He hit a landing and fell through it. I took him to the hospital. He has a nasty leg break, lots of bruises, and maybe a mild concussion.”

“Dear lord! That's terrible. So, what are you going to do now?”

Max frowned as he drove. “I guess I'm going to avoid saying bad things about the house while I'm in it.”

She raised an eyebrow quizzically but still nodded her head. “Seems best.”

Friday evening at quarter after seven, Max and Alice pulled up to the front of the Mayor's sprawling, modern house. Max eyed it dubiously through the window.

“What is it?” asked Alice.

“I don't know, I was just expecting something... more... you know.”

“Southern?”

“Yeah, southern. I was kind of thinking it would look like my house, only well kept, with a massive front porch, wicker furniture and, you know… southern...” He waved his hand vaguely. “Stuff.”

Alice laughed. She said, “What were you expecting, Tara?”

Max turned to look at Alice's merry face. He was momentarily distracted by her cute single dimple, but he forced himself back to the question. “What's Tara?”

Alice's brows went up. “What's Tara? Are you serious?” Max's confusion showed plainly. “You know, Gone with the Wind?” Now Max's confusion was tinged with embarrassment because she was so plainly flabbergasted, but all he could do was shake his head again. “The Tara Mansion? The mansion where Scarlett O'Hara lived.”

Max was finally relieved to know what she was talking about. “Oh! Sorry, I didn't know the mansion had a name.”

She looked at him pityingly. “Max, every big southern mansion has a name.”

He said, “Oh, really?” and got a thoughtful look on his face. “I wonder if my mansion has a name.”

Alice said, “Your mansion is that big?”

“Oh yeah, it’s huge.”