Twanged (26 page)

Regan poured herself a cup of coffee and watched the animation on Brigid’s face as she talked to her manager. The image of the mutilated doll bearing Brigid’s name raced across her mind. Only a psychotic would have done that. If the person wanted to harm Brigid, the concert would be a logical place to try. I’ll stick to her like glue today, Regan vowed silently.

C
happy woke up and was shocked to see that it was after nine o’clock. Actually, I shouldn’t be too surprised, he thought to himself. I was tossing and turning so much, I didn’t fall asleep until dawn.

He turned on his side, disturbing Tootsie, whose snout was resting on the edge of Chappy’s pillow. A low growl emanated from the dog’s throat.

Bettina, sprawled out on the other side of Tootsie, slowly opened her eyes. “What’sa matter, baby?” she asked lovingly.

“Ohhhh, nothing, I guess,” Chappy replied.

“I was talking to my other baby.” Bettina reached out her manicured hand and stroked Tootsie’s back. The dog rolled over and stuck her four legs straight up in the air, quickly taking on the look of deep rigor mortis. It was her favorite position for a doggie chest rub. “Did Daddy wake you up? Daddy didn’t mean to wake you, did you, Daddy?”

“I’d have to say that wasn’t my intention,” Chappy answered wryly. God, how I hate that mutt, he thought.

“Daddy, say Happy Fourth of July to Tootsie.”

Give me a break, Chappy thought. “Happy Fourth of July, Tootsie,” he said quickly, throwing back the covers. “I’m getting up.”

Bettina grabbed Tootsie’s paw. “Wave good-bye to Daddy. . . . That’s right, honey. . . . ’Bye, Daddy . . .’ byyye.”

Chappy turned away from the sight of Bettina aiming Tootsie’s paw in his direction and moving it up and down. The best piece of luck that could come from that fiddle, he decided as he headed into the bathroom, is if that four-legged bark factory decided to run away. Even Lassie had managed to get herself lost. Chappy shut the door behind him and gazed in the mirror. Look at the bags under my eyes, he thought. Stress is doing me in.

Oh well. It will all be over with today. Either I get that fiddle before Brigid O’Neill departs the Chappy Compound, or I’m doomed to a life of the humdrum.

He reached for his swimming trunks hanging by their white netting from one of the many shower heads. A quick dip is in order, he thought. Hopefully it will make me feel better and help me cope with what will be a most dramatic day in the life of Chaplain Wickham Tinka.

I
can’t wait for the concert tonight!” Louisa cried at the breakfast table. “It will be such fun.”

“Regan said we should get there by five to set up our chairs. It starts at six. I’m putting together a picnic basket for us,” Nora commented as she spooned a piece of juicy cantaloupe from its rind.

“I’ve got my cowboy hat ready,” Luke drawled.

Lambie looked up from the bran muffin he had just sliced into four perfect bite-sized sections. “I left mine at home, darn it.”

Louisa smiled at him.
“Hnnnnnn.”
She turned to Nora and Luke. “Lambie bought a cowboy hat years ago when we decided to take horseback riding lessons in Central Park. I had one, too, but it flew off when we went into a quick trot, and was trampled by the six horses behind me.”

“That’s too bad,” Nora said.

“Actually, I was glad to lose it. It gave me hat hair.” Louisa drained her cup of coffee. “Do you have any phone calls you’d like to get out of the way? Because I’d like to plug in my computer to the telephone line again and get some work done.”

Luke and Nora shook their heads.

“Good. I’d like to take a look at Brigid’s Web site for anything interesting she might like to know about, besides Pammy’s picture. If there is, I’ll print it out so she can see it when she’s on that bus roaming around the country. Those tour buses must get awfully cramped and cozy after weeks on the road.” Louisa stood up. “World Wide Web, here I come!”

A
taxi bearing Rudy, the rested, relaxed tour bus driver, pulled into the Chappy Compound at ten fifteen and stopped near the guest house.

Rudy paid the fare and got out, hurrying to ring the bell in the hopes that he could avoid contact with Chappy Tinka. The image of the dented Rolls-Royce was still fresh in his mind.

“Hi, Rudy,” Brigid called as she ran down the stairs to let him in.

Dragging his duffel bag, Rudy stepped inside as she opened the door. “Brigid, good to see you. Are you ready for life on the road again?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Brigid said with enthusiasm. “We’re all about packed.”

“Great. I’ll get the equipment over to the college right now. Your rehearsal’s at noon?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. After everyone’s back from that, we’ll load up the suitcases and be all ready to roll out right after the concert. We should make it up to Boston before the sun comes up. I hear your concert tomorrow night is sold out.”

Brigid laughed. “I know. Roy called before.”

Rudy reached over and squeezed her arm. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Rudy,” Brigid said quietly.

H
e sat in the diner, eating his scrambled eggs. He‘d gone to a barber yesterday and had him cut his hair short. He also was wearing a blue baseball cap. The last thing he needed was Brigid’s friend who’d called him weird recognizing him. He felt himself getting nervous. Today was his last chance to get Brigid to come away with him. He put down his fork and stared at his plate. His appetite was gone. It’s not going to work, he thought. Brigid’s going to leave me and I’m going to be all by myself.

Tears welled up in his eyes. I’ve got to get out of here, he thought. Or that waitress will think I’m a big baby.

T
he rehearsal went well. Everything at the college was all set up and ready to go.

At four o’clock the groaning tour bus, packed with the band’s and Pammy’s personal gear, pulled out of the Chappy Compound in the afternoon light.

“Welth College or bust,” Rudy called. He made a point of announcing the next destination, no matter how close by, at the start of every run.

Kieran and Pammy were the only ones on board.

Teddy and Hank had driven over earlier in the station wagon, which Kit would drive back after the concert. She and a couple of the others from her house were already on the college grounds, staking out a plot for the ever-expanding number of friends who would be joining them. Angela, in charge of the food detail, had organized a smorgasbord of delights that would be spread out on a blanket.

Now, with everyone else gone, Regan and Brigid looked around the house one last time to make sure that nothing was forgotten. Brigid’s fiddle was in its case by the door.

“I think we’ve got everything,” Regan said. “Time to say good-bye to this place.”

“Even though we had a few problems at the beginning of the week,” Brigid added, “this has been fun.”

“It has,” Regan agreed, thinking of both the smashed cassette and the letter she didn’t dare mention. She looked over at the couch. “I hope Chappy likes the new position of his couch.”

Brigid shrugged. “It looks a lot better where it is now. Heck, he probably won’t even notice.”

Regan laughed. “You know, Brigid, I’m glad we won’t have to say good-bye to each other today. I’m looking forward to seeing you next week in New York.”

“Doesn’t that work out great?” Brigid commented. “You and Kit can come to watch the show, and then we’ll all go out to dinner. Where should we eat?”

“Elaine’s. It’s been around for years on the Upper East Side. It’s very hot. It started out as a hangout for writers, but now she gets a lot of different celebrities in there.” Regan laughed again. “Now that you’re a celebrity, it’s high time you showed your face.”

It was Brigid’s turn to chuckle. “I don’t feel any different. But I don’t want anything to burst this bubble.”

Regan looked at Brigid’s face. She was so young and hopeful and excited, but Regan also could see a vulnerability under thesurface. “Nothing will, ”Regan said firmly. She only wished she could be so sure.

Together they walked out, shut the door, and ambled over to Chappy’s house. Chappy, Bettina, and Duke were there to greet them.

“We feel so privileged,” Chappy cried, “that you are giving us this private recital before you go onstage!”

“It’s my pleasure,” Brigid said as she pulled the original CT fiddle out of the case. “It’ll get me warmed up.”

Chappy had led them into the drawing room. Brigid stood in the same spot where she had played last Saturday night. It seemed like ages ago, Regan thought. And in the middle of it, I found Louisa in the pool. Regan inhaled sharply and leaned on the arm of her chair.

“Before I start,” Brigid commented, holding the fiddle in her arms, “I want to thank you for having us here this week.”

“We loved it,” Bettina declared.

“It’s a memory we’ll always cherish,” Chappy insisted.

Brigid smiled, placed the fiddle against her shoulder, paused for a moment, and then hit it with the bow. The fiddle jumped to life. Joyous, stimulating music filled the room.

Chappy looked around, smiling, tapping his foot on the floor. Bettina, clad in black stretch pants, a white oversized T-shirt, and low sandals, her arms folded in her lap, seemed to be enjoying it as well. Duke was keeping time by rapping his thighs with his cupped palms.

When Brigid finished the second song, she took a quick bow.

Chappy stood up. “Bravo!” he cried. “Bravo.”

Bettina, Duke, and Regan joined in the applause. Finally Regan stood. “Brigid, we’d better get going. Duke, you’re driving us over there, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he said as he got to his feet.

Brigid leaned down, placed her fabled fiddle back in its case, and snapped it shut.

Chappy hurried over to her and grabbed both of her hands, shaking them with enthusiasm as she started to straighten up.

“Marvelous. That was just marvelous.”

Duke picked up the fiddle and started to walk. “I’ll carry this.”

“Will we be seeing you at the concert?” Brigid asked.

“Of course. Of course,” Chappy said. “They have a special place for us to sit. Bettina and I will be driving over a little later, in time for the show!”

“I’d better start to get ready,” Bettina said. “See you later.” She turned and headed upstairs.

The others walked out to Chappy’s Rolls. Duke hurried around to the back and quickly opened the trunk. With a flourish Chappy opened the front and back doors of the car for Regan and Brigid. “I’m going to miss you two. This place won’t be the same. I just know I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning and feel as sad as can be.”

Brigid laughed. “I guess that means you’ll have to invite us back.”

“Anytime! Please come anytime!”

“Hey, boss,” Duke called as he shut the trunk, “here’s your golf bag. I forgot to take it out of here.”

Regan turned to see Duke holding a green-and-white golf bag very high in the air. That’s pretty cheap-looking for someone like Chappy to be toting around the golf courses in the Hamptons, Regan thought. It also didn’t seem to have any golf clubs bobbing around in it.

“Oh, that!” Chappy cried. “I’ll take it inside. Good-bye, ladies.” His hands fluttering, he ushered them into the car, shut the doors, and walked around to the back, where Duke handed him the golf bag.

Brigid turned around from the front seat. “Here we go, Regan.”

“That’s right.”

Duke jumped in and they sped out of the Compound.

L
ouisa, all dressed and ready to go to the concert, was sitting with her laptop, waiting for the others. A pile of pages from Brigid’s Web site was on the couch next to her. She was just about to turn off her computer when she decided to read a couple more letters. May as well keep going until the others are ready, she thought. She pulled up another fan letter on the screen and began to read it.

“Oh my God,” Louisa murmured. Quickly she pressed the
PRINT
button on her machine. I’ll have to show this to Regan as soon as we get to the concert.

C
happy was delirious. He stepped back from the car and waved as it pulled out of the driveway. He turned around and headed into the house, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Bettina’s upstairs, he thought. She said she wanted to take a Jacuzzi and be ready to leave in an hour. I told her I wanted to have a quick swim. That’s good. I have at least forty whole minutes before I’ll have to run down and get wet, then come back and get changed. Holding the golf bag with both hands, he ran to his study, closed the door, and within seconds had changed into his yellow-and-black bathing suit and disappeared behind the bookshelf. Awkwardly, he scurried down the steps with the golf bag, ran across the basement floor, and opened the door to the men’s lounge. Once inside, he shut it and stood there panting.

“Thank you, Grandpa, for building this private room!” he blurted.

He pulled on the string of the lightbulb, and with tender loving care he lifted the fiddle and bow out of the bag. His whole body quivered with delight. We did it! he thought. We did it! Tears filled his eyes. I can’t believe that I’m holding in my arms the legendary fiddle that will bring me good luck. The fiddle that moments ago had filled his house with such beautiful music!

Chappy looked up impatiently at the lightbulb. It’s so dingy in here; I want to get a good look at this and play for a few moments in the light of day.

Aha! he thought, almost jumping up in delight. The guest house is free! Everyone is gone! I can go there and play to my heart’s content. Or at least until it’s time to go to the concert.

He hurried through the tunnel, cradling the fiddle in his arms. “If I were a rich man, diedle diedle . . .” he sang. “I’ll be playing that part with this fiddle, I just know it,” he said, his voice echoing in the tunnel as he scampered through, his feet moving as fast as possible, trying to keep up with the commands from his brain.

He opened the door to the guest house basement and silently gave thanks that he didn’t have to tiptoe around anymore. He ran across the floor, humming, and up the steps he went. He turned the door handle and pushed. It wouldn’t budge. What? he thought. What’s going on? He pushed again, and the door opened a crack. Huh? Is that the back of the couch? Good God. Who told them they could move the couch? Was there another feng shui specialist in their midst? He threw his weight as hard as he could against the door, but the couch only moved another inch or two.