Bad Moonlight (7 page)

A SONG FOR DEE

Three Weeks Later

“I
know
I didn't do it!” Danielle insisted. “I couldn't possibly have done anything like that!”

“You don't have to convince me, Danielle,” Dr. Moore stated quietly. “Why are you trying to convince yourself? What on earth makes you think you might have killed Joey?”

Danielle sat tensely on the edge of the chair in Dr. Moore's office. A new chair, she'd noticed when she came in. Dr. Moore never said a word about how Danielle had torn up the old one.

But Danielle remembered. She kept her hands in her lap, twisting them nervously.

“Danielle?” the doctor prodded. “Why do you think you had anything to do with Joey's death?”

“Because of what I've been telling you,” she explained.
“The horrible, violent fantasies. What if they become real?”

“You had a violent fantasy about Joey?”

She shook her head. “No. But Billy told me that Joey left the club right after I did that night. And Dee said she heard Joey say something about wanting to talk to me!”

Dr. Moore tapped a pencil against his desktop. “That hardly puts you and Joey together,” he pointed out.

“I know that, but—” Danielle swallowed hard. “The thing is, I don't remember what happened after I left the others!” she burst out. “My mind's a blank. A total blank!”

She grabbed the arms of the chair, then quickly lowered her hands back to her lap.

“Why can't I remember anything?” she asked.

“Probably because there's nothing to remember.” Dr. Moore jotted down a note. “You finished performing. You felt ‘wired,' as you put it, and you walked and jogged a long way. Once you finally worked off your excitement, you were exhausted, Danielle. It's not unusual for people in such a tired state to forget things.”

Could that be the way it happened? Danielle wondered.

“You're not likely to carry out any of these fantasies,” the doctor continued. “You haven't gotten over the violent way your parents were suddenly taken from you. So your mind is filled with violent thoughts.”

He leaned forward, his blue eyes intense behind his glasses. “But that does not mean you will commit violent acts.”

Danielle glanced down at her hands. They seemed to have a life of their own. Twisting, writhing in her lap.

She couldn't keep them still.

“You're very tense,” Dr. Moore observed. “Let's clear your mind, shall we? That should help you calm down.”

He came around and sat on the edge of his desk. “Start counting, Danielle,” he commanded softly. “With each number you'll feel yourself start to relax.”

Danielle leaned back in the chair and began counting backward from one hundred.

♦ ♦ ♦

The wind blew back Danielle's hair as the van made its way toward another dreary hotel. More greasy food. And another roaring crowd.

Danielle couldn't wait. She felt loose and ready to perform. Her session with Dr. Moore had really helped. She glanced up and caught Kit's eyes in the rearview mirror. He winked at her playfully.

She grinned, warmed by his attention.

“I can't believe we're just driving to the next club as if nothing happened,” Dee said bitterly. “Joey was killed. Slashed to pieces, in case you've forgotten. Doesn't anybody care?”

Silence.

Danielle pictured Joey's body. Bloody and torn. She shook her head to clear away the image.

“Sure we care, Dee,” Billy said finally. His voice cracked. “You know we do. We just—”

“We have to keep living, you know?” Caroline broke in. “I mean, we can't crawl under a rock or something.”

“We should cancel this show,” Dee declared.

“Dee, we can't,” Kit replied gently. “It would mean breaking our contract. And I think it's the last thing Joey would have wanted us to do.”

Dee muttered a reply. Danielle couldn't hear her.

She's really unhappy, Danielle thought. She reached behind her seat and pulled her guitar out of the case.

“I wrote a song yesterday,” she announced. She strummed a chord.

“Another one?” Caroline asked. “Danny, you're really on a roll!”

“If it's as good as ‘Bad Moonlight,' you can do it tomorrow night,” Billy promised. He had booked them at a club called the Roadhouse in Hastings.

“It's sort of a second ‘Bad Moonlight,'” Danielle told them. “More upbeat, though. And it's for Dee to sing,” she added.

Dee turned around in her seat, her eyebrows arched in surprise.

Danielle smiled at her. Maybe this'll make things better between us, she thought.

“Let's hear it,” Kit demanded.

With her fingers, Danielle tapped out a beat on the front of the guitar. Then she strummed a chord and began to sing.

“Stop me, whoa,

Bad moonlight, stop me,

Keep me, stop me,

Hold me like a friend.

Caroline swung her head to the beat, her blond hair swaying. Mary Beth tapped on the seat back, using her fingers as drumsticks. Dee listened intently, her amber eyes locked on Danielle's face.

“Stop me, whoa,

Bad moonlight, keep me

In your cold, cold glow,

Don't let me kill again.”

A long silence greeted the end of the song.

Danielle felt her face heat up with embarrassment and confusion. Had she really written those words?

Billy cleared his throat. “Wow,” he murmured.

He started to say more. But Dee interrupted him. “‘Don't let
me
kill again'?” She glared at Danielle, “That's a song for
me
to sing? What's that supposed to mean?”

Danielle shook her head. “I don't know. I don't understand it. I just started to sing it and—”

“I didn't kill Joey!
You
did!” Dee shrieked.

With a cry of rage Dee leaped out of her seat and jumped on Danielle.

Before Danielle could struggle away, Dee wrapped her strong, slender fingers around Danielle's throat and started to strangle her.

Chapter 10

LIKE AN ANIMAL

“I
t was you!” Dee wailed. “It was
you!”

Her fingers squeezed tighter.

Dee is so strong, Danielle thought. I never realized how strong she is.

She grabbed hold of Dee's hands with both of her own and tried to pry the viselike fingers from her throat.

Dee kept shouting. No words now. Just shrieks of rage.

Despite Danielle's struggles, Dee's grip tightened.

A wave of panic swept over Danielle. Can't breathe! she thought. She's going to strangle me!

She yanked one of Dee's fingers hard, bending it back as far as she could.

Dee gasped and jerked the hand off Danielle's throat.

The van lurched and slowed to a stop.

Danielle gripped Dee's other wrist and pulled. She felt air rush into her lungs. Taking a deep breath, she scrambled to her knees and shoved Dee away from her.

Dee lunged at her again.

“Hey!” Billy's alarmed voice rang out sharply. “Dee, back off! Back off!”

Danielle flung up her arms, blocking Dee's charge. “I didn't do it! I didn't do it!” The words burst hoarsely from Danielle's aching throat.

“Hurry up, Kit. Give me a hand here!” Billy demanded.

Strong hands grabbed Dee's shoulders, pulled her away from Danielle.

Danielle glared at Dee. The other girl struggled in Kit's grip. He held her in the narrow aisle of the van.

“A song for me, huh?” Dee cried bitterly.

“The words just popped into my head!” Danielle told her. “I don't know why. It didn't mean anything, Dee. I wasn't accusing you. It was just a song!”

“Everybody cool it!” Kit shouted. He shook Dee by the shoulders. “Now!”

Danielle forced herself to stay still. Billy loosened his grip. He rested his hand on her trembling shoulder.

Kit glanced around the group. “We've got a show
tomorrow night,” he reminded them. “I know we're all still uptight about Joey, but we can't afford to blow this. Everybody needs to stay cool.”

Dee breathed hard. Her eyes never left Danielle's face.

She really believes I killed Joey, Danielle told herself. She screamed it over and over. But why? Why does she suspect me?

Danielle rubbed her throat, sore from Dee's powerful grip.

With a shudder, Danielle turned away from Dee's blazing stare.

Mary Beth gazed solemnly at Danielle. Her green eyes glowed in the dim interior light of the van.

Glowed with fear.

Is Mary Beth afraid of Dee? Danielle wondered. Or is Mary Beth frightened of me?

A shaft of lightning split the sky. Thunder boomed like a canon.

Everyone jumped.

“We're in for rain,” Kit said, letting go of Dee's arm. “Let's get moving.”

No one spoke during the rest of the trip.

♦ ♦ ♦

The storm followed them the whole ninety-mile drive. Lightning bolts snaked down from the sky. Thunder rattled the windows of the van.

When Kit pulled up in front of the hotel, the rain shot down like bullets.

“Billy and I will need some extra hands with the
equipment!” Kit shouted over the drumming of the rain. “We'll unload the top of the van first!”

He opened the sliding door and jumped down to the street. Billy followed, then Dee, Mary Beth, and Caroline.

When Danielle hopped down to the wet pavement, the rain plastered her hair to her head. Flinging it back, she raised her face to the sky.

“Danielle, come on,” Caroline called over her shoulder. “You want to drown?”

But Danielle felt a sudden urge to move.

To run through the storm. To feel the wind and water against her skin.

Squinting against the driving rain, she took off down the street.

“Danny!” Caroline shouted after her. “Where are you going? We have to unpack!”

“Let her go,” Danielle heard Kit shout at Caroline. “She'll be okay.”

Will I? Danielle wondered. Will I ever be okay?

Her legs churning, she threw herself into the driving curtains of rain. Splashing through puddles. Stumbling and scrambling up again.

What am I doing? she asked herself. I can't stop myself. I can't stop!

The sky cleared as she stopped her frantic run.

Gasping for breath, she slowed to a trot, then a walk. Her side ached. Her legs wobbled like rubber.

Her mouth felt dry. I'm thirsty, she realized.

So thirsty.

I must drink.

Danielle lowered herself to the street.

On all fours she bent over a puddle and frantically lapped the rainwater with her tongue.

Chapter 11

KIT DIES

A
t rehearsal the next morning, they checked out the club. The Roadhouse wasn't quite as big as the Rocket Club. But the two owners knew each other, and word about Bad Moonlight had spread.

“It'll be packed tonight,” the club's manager told Billy when the band took a break. “I warned my bouncers. We'll probably have to turn people away.”

Billy grinned. “You hear that, guys?” he called out. “Tonight we've got to really kick!”

The manager jerked his thumb at Danielle. “We got you to thank for it, honey,” he told her. “Dave from the Rocket said you were dy-no-mite.”

Danielle smiled at him as she tightened a new string on her guitar.

Caroline rolled her eyes.
“Honey?”
she whispered to Danielle.

“Dy-no-mite!”
Danielle whispered back, laughing.

“Could we get back to work?” Dee demanded impatiently from the other side of the stage. “We've been hanging out for twenty minutes.”

Billy nodded. “Sure, Dee. You want to work? We'll work.”

“Good.” Dee picked up her guitar and frowned at Danielle.

She still thinks I wrote that song to accuse her of killing Joey, Danielle thought. The two of us will never become friends. No way. It's hopeless now.