“I don’t really have to be here,” Jordan said. “But I often pop in on rehearsals because they have questions, and…” His voice trailed off, but I finished the sentence in my head: …it was where he got to be with Genna.
“We rehearse at Club Independence sometimes,” he continued, with a tour guide’s forced energy, “but Mann’s often got a gig going, so we end up here. This week nobody wanted to go back to the Club, so we were lucky to get a time slot here at such short notice.”
The warehouse-turned-practice-space we stepped into had signs pointing to a theater on the upper level, but the current show ran Wednesday through Sunday, so the band’s music wouldn’t disturb any patrons of the quieter arts. And the music I heard coming from the inner room would disturb just about anybody.
Jordan winced at the discordant clashing, and we hesitated at the door.
“Sure you want to go in?” I asked.
His jaw tightened, and he slowly walked into the room.
“Okay,” Tom Copper was saying quietly. “We need to try that again.”
Ricky, who sat behind his drum set in a white sleeveless undershirt, rolled his eyes. “Come on, Copper. How many times we gonna do this?”
Tom turned slowly toward the drummer. “Until we get it right.
All
of us.”
Jordan sucked in a quick breath, and I followed his eyes. Marley, the dark-haired groupie girl from Ricky’s inner circle, stood at a microphone, her eyes red from what I assumed had been crying. I remembered Tom saying she would probably fill in for Genna until they found someone else, and it looked like that’s what they were testing today. I also remembered Tonya Copper’s reaction to the idea of Marley as the female singer. It was anything but positive. I’d think an audience’s reaction wouldn’t be much better, the way it had sounded.
Donny and LeRoy noticed us in the doorway, but acknowledged us only by jerks of their chins. Tom was speaking directly to Ricky, in a voice that didn’t carry. From the way Ricky was glaring I figured it wasn’t good.
Jordan touched my elbow and scooted along the wall toward some chairs. I followed, surprised to see Parker, the band’s old drummer. His chair was tilted back against the wall, the front two legs in the air while he rested his feet on a wooden crate. He was watching Tom and Ricky with an amused expression, his arms crossed comfortably over his chest. He nodded at Jordan, and then at me, but went back to observing the band.
“Okay,” Tom said, turning away from Ricky. “Here we go.”
A smooth riff from Donny led them into the beginning of a song I didn’t recognize. Probably a new one they didn’t get to perform on Friday because of the bomb threat. Tom began counting out loud, leaning toward Marley, and she started to sing. It must’ve been the right place, because Tom went back to his mic and concentrated on guitar.
Marley didn’t sound half bad that time. Wasn’t Genna, obviously, but closer to good than she had been when we’d arrived.
I glanced beside me as the neighboring chair shifted, and Annie gave me a quick smile. I looked at Jordan, but he was immersed in the music—or in trying to forget that Genna should’ve been up there singing.
When the song ended, the tension in the room was heavy. Everyone looked at Tom, who stood with his hands still on his guitar.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Let’s take five.”
The reflexive sigh from the band was loud enough to be heard, and the crisis was averted. For the moment.
“You here to help out?” I asked Annie.
She looked up at me, crossing one leg over the other. “Not really. I mean, I’ll help if they need me, but they usually don’t. Not for rehearsals.”
“So you’re just hanging out?”
She swung her foot back and forth. “Yeah. With Marley practicing and all…”
She broke off as Jordan got up from his chair and walked across the room to confer with LeRoy about something. They bent over to look at LeRoy’s amp, their voices lost in the chatter of the rest of the band.
I looked back at Annie, remembering my suspicions about her and the bomb in the sound system.
“So how’d you get involved with the band?” I asked.
“Huh?” She swung her head toward me.
“The band? How’d you start hanging around with them?”
“Oh, I’m not sure, exactly. Marley was a fan, and started following the guys around, going to every concert she could, waiting afterwards to try to… Well, to see the guys.” Her eyes flicked up at me.
“You don’t have to spell it out,” I said.
She squirmed.
“Which guys were interested?” I asked.
She let out a quick laugh. “None of them, really. Tom’s married, you know, which I guess wouldn’t stop everybody, but his wife’s at all the shows. LeRoy’s too religious, and Donny… Well, I’m not sure about Donny.”
Allison, the girl at the bridal shop, knew more about Donny’s tattoos than the casual observer, which made me think Donny hadn’t always turned down female attention. But that was several years before.
“How about Ricky?” I asked.
“Ricky?” Annie looked surprised. “He was with Genna.”
Like that would matter to a turd like Ricky. But I’d let the girl have her fantasies.
“You two kept hanging around anyway?”
Annie lifted a shoulder. “It was fun, talking to the guys about the music. I felt funny just doing the groupie thing, though, so I started finding little stuff to do. Jordan had me help sometimes, and that was fun. I’ve even thought about going back to school for it.”
“Sound stuff?”
“Yeah. There are theaters here in Philly, too, where you can find work.”
The band began drifting back into the practice area, and I watched Ricky saunter behind his drum set.
“So do you know how Ricky got in with the band?” I asked. “After Parker left?”
Her foot began swinging again, and I moved my leg so I wouldn’t get whacked.
“I really don’t know. By the time Marley and I started hanging around with the band Ricky was already in it. So I never heard the inside scoop.”
I watched her face, tight and closed, and wondered why she was lying, because I was sure she was.
“Okay, Marley,” Tom said, back in his spot. “Let’s try ‘Lust on Ice,’ see how you do with that one.”
Marley shuffled up to the microphone, her usual sexy bravado hidden behind self-consciousness and sniffles. I couldn’t help but wonder why Tom was even giving the girl a chance. She was obviously no professional. Was it simply the fact that they needed someone immediately—like for Lucy’s wedding? Or that a good female singer really is hard to come by? I couldn’t imagine that finding one better than Marley would be too difficult.
Ricky clacked his sticks together and the song began. I knew it well enough I could mouth the words, even with Marley’s uninspired performance.
The night is cold
And so’s my heart
It’s always numb
When we’re apart
To be your girl
I pay the price
You always keep
My lust on ice.
I stole a glance at Jordan, who had taken a seat over by LeRoy. His eyes were hooded as he watched Marley, and I was shocked by the disgust I saw in his face. I thought Marley was an embarrassment to my gender the way she threw herself around, but she wasn’t the only one who’d ever done it. I wondered if it was merely the fact that she was trying to replace Genna, or if there was something else behind Jordan’s sneer.
The song wrapped up, and again we watched Tom. He obviously wasn’t thrilled, but Marley
had
gotten through the song without crashing and burning, even if it wasn’t up to Genna’s quality.
“Pretty good,” Tom said.
Marley’s shoulders relaxed, if only a quarter of an inch.
“Let’s do it again to be sure.”
Ricky’s mouth opened, but Donny threw him such a violent look the drummer shut up without a peep.
The song went a little better the second time, and Tom actually complimented Marley. “You worked hard today. I know it’s not easy trying to fill in for somebody else. Thanks for helping us out.”
Red crept up Marley’s neck, and I was half afraid she was going to faint. She overcame it in a minute, and Annie joined her on the other side of the room.
“Now,” Tom said to the guys, “I want to hit ‘Expressway’ before we stop.”
Another new one, I guessed, since I’d never heard of it.
They started roughly, and repeated the beginning a few times before going on to the rest of the song. They stopped so many times to fix things I felt trapped in a disturbing déjà vu cycle. I decided to look for a bathroom.
I went out the closest door, the one Jordan and I had come in, and walked around the hallway, past the door on the other side of the room, close to where Marley and Annie were sitting. I found a ladies room in the back of the warehouse, and was using it when the outer door opened and a couple of people walked in.
“I’m telling you,” someone said. It sounded like Annie. “Ricky better get his act together or Tom’s gonna kick him out for sure, now that Genna’s not around to mediate.”
“He wouldn’t,” the other person said. Marley. “Ricky’s so
awesome
. And he has some songs for the band to do. You should hear them. They’re
amazing
.”
A stall door a few down from me squeaked open and shut, and a lock turned. “They’re not going to do his songs.” Annie. “I mean, they didn’t even do Parker’s, and he was with them for
years
.
”
A sniff from Marley. “I’m sure Ricky’s are lots better.”
Annie made a loud production of unrolling toilet paper. “What is it with you and Ricky? You think you have to take Genna’s place there, too?”
Marley made a sound of protest. “I’m not… Well, he is hot, you know.
And
he’s a great musician. Besides, we’ve been…well…you know…the last couple months, anyway.”
I tried not to breathe into the shocked silence.
“I can’t believe you
did
that.” Annie’s voice squeaked. “You could’ve screwed up
everything
if Genna had found out. She would’ve had him kicked out of the band. And you’d be gone for sure.”
“Which means you would be, too,” Marley said, her voice mean.
No reply from Annie, except rustling and the sound of her zipper. “He doesn’t really like you, you know,” Annie finally said. “I heard him yelling at you backstage at the concert. He said he was going to wring your neck.”
My mouth fell open. He’d been talking to
Marley?
“He didn’t mean it,” Marley said. “And he feels different now. In a day or so he won’t care if I French kiss him in front of the guys, let alone put my hand on his knee, like he was complaining about.”
Silence.
“I don’t care what you think,” Marley added.
The toilet flushed and the stall door swung open again. “Whether you care or not, you’d better tell Ricky to start treating Tom with a little more respect or he’s going to be out of a job. You know they only put up with him because of Genna. Heck, he only
got
the job because of Genna. You remember.”
So she
had
been lying when she’d said she didn’t know how he got hired.
Water splashed in the sink.
“Well,” Marley said, “now that I’m going to be their female singer maybe
I’ll
have some say in the matter.”
Yeah. And I was going to sprout wings and fly back to the farm.
The outer door creaked open and shut and I was left alone.
On the way back to the rehearsal room I could tell things weren’t going well. Instead of music, I heard yelling. I walked to the door I’d left, and peeked around the jamb.
“It’s
you,
” Ricky was saying. “Not me. Don’t keep fucking pointing at me.”
“Oh, it’s
our
fault you keep losing the beat during the refrain?” Donny said. “It’s the rest of us that are screwing up?” He snatched his water bottle from the floor and took such a long drink I thought he was going to drown.
LeRoy stood stock still, his eyes on Tom. I wondered if he was even breathing.
Tom faced forward, his back to Ricky. His hands rested on his hips, leaving his guitar hanging on his neck, and his head was bent so far down I saw the top of his head.
“It’s not us, Ricky,” he said. “It’s you. It’s you every goddamn time. You
know
how it’s supposed to go. You’ve spoken it, we’ve gone over it. But when we actually do the song, I have to practically jump on you for you to play it right.”
“You’re never going to get it,” Donny said. “You’re a freaking liability.”
Tom turned to stare at Donny. Donny stared back for a few moments before swinging the strap of his guitar over his head. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore today.”
“Oh, that’s great,” Ricky said. “Now even the most faithful Tom Copper disciples are leaving.”
“Shut up, Ricky,” LeRoy said.
Ricky’s face closed, and he jumped up from his seat, dropping his sticks on a drum head with a clatter. “I’m outta here. You can all just shove it.” He stalked from the room.
The room was silent until a scuttling sound betrayed Marley’s exit. Running off after the loser. Annie sat alone, her head bowed, her face shielded by her hand.
“What about his drums?” LeRoy said.
Tom looked at them. “Leave ’em. He decides to take care of his equipment, he can come back and get it.” He looked around. “Where’d Donny go?”
I knew. He’d come barreling past me when Tom had turned to check out the drums. Now, I ducked out of the doorway and plastered myself against the wall in the front hallway, out of view of the rehearsal room. Tom was a nice guy, but I didn’t think now was the right time to get caught in his sights.
I went out to my truck to wait for Jordan.
“So how much does Annie know about the sound system?” I asked Jordan.
We were driving back up from Philadelphia, Route 309 heavy with commuter traffic. I tried, mostly unsuccessfully, not to let it tighten my shoulders and make me want to scream with frustration.
“Enough,” Jordan said. “She does the basic stuff I can delegate. Running to the storage room for parts, plugging things in, taping down cables.”
“But not the more technical business?”
He glanced at me. “No. That’s my job. Why?”
I slammed on the brakes to avoid rear-ending a Navigator at the turnpike exit ramp. When we were clear of the jam, I shifted up and moved into the passing lane.
“Cops talk to you yesterday?” I asked.
“No.”
“They’ll probably be calling again.”
“Damn it, I didn’t do anything to Genna!” His face went almost purple.
“I know, Jordan, I know. This isn’t about her.”
His color changed from an all-over shade to blotches of red. “Then what’s it about?”
“The bomb.”
“The
bomb?
” The confusion on his face supported my theory that he knew nothing about it.
“They found the bomb in the sound system,” I said.
“What?”
“Detective Willard told me. It was in a speaker.”
He stared at me for a few moments until his confusion turned to surprise, and finally to understanding. “Now it makes sense.”
“What?”
“Why it shorted out at the concert. Remember, at the beginning of the second set we had that delay?”
“Sure.” I’d been worried about Nick being gone for such a long time. But I didn’t want to think about Nick. “How could they set a bomb in the sound system that you wouldn’t find?”
He smiled grimly. “Pretty easily, actually. It’s not like I was looking for something like that. A frayed wire, a disconnected plug…that’s what I was checking.”
I passed a sluggish wood-paneled Explorer, and pulled into the slow lane. “So how would they do it?”
He shifted in his seat so he faced me. “Well, there are a lot of self-powered systems these days where loudspeakers actually have amplifiers in them. Those amps have surge protectors with reset switches.” He stopped. “You know which loudspeaker it was in?”
I shook my head.
He paused, pursing his lips while he thought. “If they put it in the first loudspeaker in the signal chain, it could short out the signal or the speaker until the reset button is pressed on that first box. The whole chain would be silenced until that was pushed. We had no idea what was causing the problem, so we just started pushing all the buttons on everything until we got the signal back. I don’t know which one actually did the trick.”
I swallowed. “You’re lucky you didn’t blow up in the process.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess.” He shifted back and looked out his window.
“So you don’t think Annie could’ve done it,” I said after a while.
“Nope. She’s a good helper, but could never do much on her own.”
“Not smart enough? Or just doesn’t have the knowledge and skill?”
He grimaced. “Do I have to choose one?”
Rats. I’d thought I’d found a way to get the heat off Jordan. At least for the bomb.
“What more can you tell me about Tom and the guys?” I asked.
He set his elbow against the door and leaned his head on his fist. “Tom knows enough about sound he could do it on his own if he had time. LeRoy and Donny probably do, too. But Tom wouldn’t set a bomb. None of the guys would.”
“I wasn’t suggesting it.” A group of Harleys sped past us, their thunder shaking the windows of the truck. When they were gone I said, “What I really want to know is how the guys feel about Tom.”
He looked at me sharply. “They love him. Everybody does.”
“Even Ricky?”
He snorted. “Ricky doesn’t love anybody. Except himself.”
“But LeRoy and Donny?”
He hesitated. “What’s this about?”
“I was thinking about what you said. About Tom being the songwriter. He also seemed to be the boss today, everybody looking to him to say when things were good enough. Is it always like that?”
“It needs to be. You can’t have a good band if you don’t have someone to keep things on track. And it should be him. It is the Tom Copper Band, after all.”
“How come?”
“How come what? That it’s called that?”
“Yeah.”
He considered this. “I’m not sure. But it’s been that forever. I always assumed he’d put the band together. And he is the lead singer.”
I slowed to navigate a crowded downhill curve. “Donny didn’t seem too happy at the end of practice. He looked pissed, actually.”
“Why shouldn’t he be? After hours of practice in that hot warehouse Marley still sounds like crap and Ricky’s still an asshole.”
Well, there was all that.
“Plus, I think he’s…” He stopped.
“What?”
He wrinkled his nose, then rubbed it. “I think he’s feeling responsible for the whole thing with…with Genna. And Ricky.”
“What? Why?”
He sucked on his lips, then let out a breath. “He’s the one who brought Genna into the band.”
I looked at him. “Explain.”
“He met her at…well, at a bar, back several years ago. Actually, like eight years ago or so. She was only nineteen. One of Tonya’s friends.” He paused.
“And?”
“And he liked her. She apparently liked him, too, at least for a little while. But by the time they were ready to call things off Tom had heard her sing, and he offered her a spot in the band.”
“Bet Donny didn’t like that too well.”
“Actually, from what they all say it worked out fine. Genna and Donny were never so close as a couple that it caused a problem. They ended up being okay friends.”
Uh-huh. I’d heard that before.
“And how did Ricky come into things?”
He blew out a huff of air. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“I would if you’d answer my questions.”
He was silent as I waited for a darkened limo to pass before I pulled into the left lane and went around a little Fiesta that was blowing smoke.
“About a year ago Parker said he was leaving,” Jordan said. “Just all of a sudden. Freaked the guys out pretty bad. Genna stepped in, said she’d just met a guy who played the drums. Thought they could give him a try.”
“Ricky.”
“Yup. They invited him to audition, and unfortunately he kicked butt. They were pretty psyched.” He shook his head. “I think it was partly desperation, and partly Genna’s influence, but he did seem like the answer at the time.”
“And how long did the honeymoon last?”
He glanced at me. “You mean with the band?”
“Or with Genna.”
“Not very long for either.”
We reached Montgomeryville and had to stop at the light at the end of the expressway. I looked at Jordan, taking in his fatigue and misery. His color had now completely reverted to pale and pasty, and he sat slumped against the door.
“What’re you going to do now?” I asked.
“You mean this evening?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed, puffing out his cheeks. “Go home. Try to find something to eat. I don’t know.”
A flicker of guilt at the neglect of my farm shot through my mind, but I ignored it and hooked a thumb toward the theater complex across the road. “Still matinee prices. Want to take in a movie?”
His eyes slanted toward the list of what was showing. “Anything not depressing?”
I scanned the titles. “The newest Jack Black movie. Something about nuns, dogs, and hang-gliders.”
“Not a romance?”
“Does it sound like it?”
He grinned. “Okay. Let’s go.” He sat up straighter in his seat. “And I’m buying the popcorn.”
***
After dropping Jordan off at the North Wales train station to pick up his car, I headed home. He’d offered to treat me to dinner at the Olive Garden after the movie, which I would’ve been a fool to turn down, so it was close to ten before I got home. Tess was in bed and Lucy lounged in her pajamas, half watching
Boston Legal
while she wrote thank you notes for early wedding presents.
“Nick called,” she said without looking up. “Wants you to call him back.”
My stomach tightened. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Where have you been?” She set down her pen and leaned her head back on the couch.
“With Jordan.”
“Need supper?”
I shook my head and held up my doggie bag from the restaurant. “Jordan’s treat. I think he just didn’t want to go home and face reality any sooner than he had to.”
She studied my face. “I’m glad you could give him some company.”
“Yeah.” I hesitated behind the couch. “Everything okay here? Nothing I need to know about?”
“Nope. Everything’s good.” She picked up her pen again. “Nick said you could just call his cell phone. He’ll keep it on.”
I took a deep breath, but didn’t answer. Instead, I made my way to the stairs, Lucy following me with her eyes.
“I’ll use the phone in my room,” I said.
“Sure. Good night.”
“Good night.”
I went upstairs, where I got undressed for bed and brushed my teeth. The phone sat on the nightstand beside my bed. I looked at it for a while.
Then I turned out the light and tried to sleep.