The Way You Make Me Feel (17 page)

“Am, too. Mom says I'm much older than my age.”

“Shhh.” Raven mediated. “Listen to the music. It's too good to miss.”

When Stevie had finished they stood to give her a rousing ovation and her heart turned over. Tears gathered in her eyes. “I'm glad you like me,” she told them.

“We love you,” Rispa avowed and the others agreed.

Damien went to Stevie and kissed her. “That was great! The command performance is ended and I'll take the guitar back.”

They rested then, sat around and talked about the music world, Damien's record business, Stevie's songs and the Minden community. They talked, too, about the news of the day and even discussed the weather. And they watched sailboats in the distance.

The picnic fare was served around two; the food looked too good to eat. Golden fried chicken, roast lamb and beef, and a luscious honey-baked ham were placed on big platters. Carved vegetables were also on platters. Asparagus, baby corn, peas and tiny onions sat in tureens. Big garden salads with several kinds of lettuce filled crystal bowls and pots of varied dressing sat by. Coconut and devil's food cake, peach cobbler and pear pies courted the taste buds. Ice cream sat in padded kegs. And there was simple fresh and beautiful ripe fruit for those who no longer espoused sugary desserts.

Stevie chose all the light foods and a fresh, golden ripe pear for dessert. Damien looked at her obliquely and chose some of the healthier and some of the old-style food. “It takes time to train me,” he told them, “but Stevie's a health buff. She'll have me fit as a fiddle by the time the bambino comes along.”

Stevie wrinkled her nose at him. “That may take a while.”

Rispa laughed. “You tell him, my girl. And you take your time.”

Damien shook his head. “You can't blame a man who's taken all this time for rushing just a little bit. I like the patter of little feet. I'd like a dozen pairs of little feet running around.”

Stevie looked at him and asked drily, “And you say you're gonna get me a houseful of servants and you're going to bear half of them?”

Damien caught her hand. “If I could, baby. If only I could.”

After lunch, they danced to Stevie's and others' CDs. Mel came to Stevie and held out his hand. “Some say I'm a good dancer,” he said. “I'll let you decide.”

Stevie found him a great dancer. He was light as a feather on his feet and he guided her expertly. “You're really good,” she told him. “And sand doesn't make the best dance floor.”

“Thank you. You're an easy lady to guide. Stevie, I'm glad you married our son. I predict you two will be wonderful for each other.”

“Thank you and I think you're right. It's still so soon, but everything seems just so.”

“Take your time with having kids. You're both still young.”

She nodded. “I guess we're both anxious and we both love kids.” And she wondered again as she had wondered before what Mel and the Steele family would think if they knew that Damien didn't, couldn't love her. Mel and Rispa would never understand a marriage without love on both sides. And she didn't lie to herself, something in her was terrified of love, but as best she knew it, she did love Damien.

Christian and Dosha left late in the afternoon. They felt that Magdalena should be put down for the night. Damien clapped Christian on the back and there was a lump in his throat as he told him, “Thanks for making my twin so happy.”

Dosha turned to Stevie, “And thank you for bringing love into my twin's life again. A love that I think is good and will last.”

Stevie thought, there it was again. The Steeles were a family full of love. They breathed it like the air around them. And she thought, too, that if Damien didn't love her, then what he offered was the next best thing.

It was early night and stars hung heavy in a midnight-blue sky. Stevie and Damien walked a little up the beach and sat on the sand near a grove of trees. “Did you enjoy the day?” he asked her.

“I loved it, but then I love being wherever you are.”

“You say all the right things, baby.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.

“You know I'm with you. I hope I get pregnant soon. Somehow having a baby with you just seems so right.”

“Yeah. You may be coming along already.”

“That would be nice.”

“I like the thought of us making a baby in that waterfall.”

Her cell phone rang then and she started. It hadn't rung since she'd been here and she'd been expecting a call from her manager, Sam Pierce. She picked it up and greeted the caller. The guttural voice assaulted her ears.

“Talk is temporary. Death is so permanent.”

The line hummed impartially as if it had just told her good news.

When she was silent and hung up so quickly, Damien asked, “Wrong number, babe?”

She told him what the man had said and he caught her to him, rocked her, and heard the wild beating of her heart. And he could have killed the monster who was doing this to her.

 

Back home the Steeles gathered in the family room. They all felt sad to see Damien and Stevie leave. The couple would sleep for a while, then set out in the predawn hours.

Mel passed a hand over his brow. “I swear this has been one of the happiest days of our lives. Don't you two be strangers now.”

Damien flashed his father a smile. “And don't any of you be strangers. There're two houses open to you in Nashville. You all like country music. Come down and continue to watch how it's made. You've been there before.”

Dosha wrinkled her nose at Damien. “Been there, done that—and loved it. If we come, would you take us to one of those country churches you record? That was wonderful.”

“Be glad to. I'm taking Stevie to one very soon. I can't think of a better way to make a contribution and help make a living.”

His father grinned. “And what a living.”

T
hat next afternoon found Stevie and Damien at home with Mrs. Patton. They had slept awhile and were getting the rest of the day underway. The gardener was out back tending the flowerbeds; the impatiens were a stunning mix of colors. Stevie watched from the living-room windows with her guitar on her lap. She picked it up and strummed a few notes, humming as she did so.

Damien spoke from the doorway. “Your muse is at you again, huh?” he teased her.

She looked up with a pleased smile. “That muse you're mocking has given me the whole song, refined. Want to hear it?”

“You know I do.”

He sat down and closed his eyes as she serenaded him with the song that had come to her since she'd been with him. He felt it was as much his song as hers. “The Way You Make Me Feel.” It was sophisticated and smooth, but it was also a heart-and-soul winner. At least, he thought, it began sophisticated, but it soon changed to the elemental beauty of everything she wrote. He wriggled his toes at the passion and the joy in that music. Her face as she glanced at him from time to time had an unearthly radiance.

She sang the title again at the end and sat holding the guitar. “Well, what do you think?”

Silently he came to her, took the guitar and put it on another chair, pulled her up and his mouth found hers in a blazing kiss that scorched them both. Her body felt heavy with wanting him. When he finally drew away, they were both trembling. “That's the way you make me feel,” he said softly.

She clung to him, wordless, for a little longer. “I wish we didn't have so much ground to cover this afternoon. I'd like to lie in bed with you, talk…”

“Yeah, me, too. Only there wouldn't be much talking.”

For a moment she leaned against him. “But we've got to get a move on. We have to check in with Detective Rollins, tell him about the phone call in Minden.” She shuddered a bit as she thought about that call, then reflected that she had refused to let it get the best of her.

“You know,” she said now, “I'm convinced all this is Jake's doing because of his tax trial coming up, but it's like Keith, too. Do you suppose they're in this together?”

“It sure is a possibility. Although Muncy knows he has to watch his step. He's out on parole.”

She sighed deeply. “My gut instinct tells me he's fool enough to have killed Bretta as soon as he got out. And if he's that bitter, he's also after me. Someone is.”

Damien hugged her tightly. “I'm gonna keep you safe, even if we have to get you a bodyguard.”

“You're all the bodyguard I need. We're fortunate Jake values his hide enough so he's not going to take any wild chances. I don't know about Keith. We've got to go by Club Insomnia, see Jessi and Nick and Ron. Maybe the kids'll be there.”

“The kids this past weekend reminded me of them. Did you have fun?”

“All the fun in the world. You've got a really great family. I wish you could have met my mom and dad.”

“Yes, I wish that, too. My family is tops. They've always stood behind me. I didn't know you were such an athlete. I'm going to put hoops out back and beat your little fanny. I know how to shoot a mean basket.”

She threw her head back, laughing. “Okay, Michael Jordan. You're on. I'll order the basket to be put in a while later. I'm busy now further refining my song.”

“Okay, you've got to talk with the prosecutor again about Jake.”

“Which reminds me, I now remember all of the conversations I heard and overheard from Jake as he talked with his lawyer and friends about how he planned to sock it to Uncle Sam and get away with it. I think in large measure Jake cheats for the thrill of it. He once bragged that he hid over a million dollars in assets in Mexico. He's got holdings in Brazil, too. If there's a country and there are corrupt people there, Jake knows them. His big mouth is going to be his downfall, but he's gotten away with it for a long time.”

They stopped downtown to pick up T-shirts for Stevie. In the big department store near the elevators Stevie saw Honi before she saw them. Honi was alone and Stevie hadn't planned to point her out to Damien.

Stevie saw Honi's eyes go to her left hand and heard her quick intake of breath.

Honi spoke directly to Damien as if Stevie were not there. “So you married her. Big mistake.”

Stevie looked to see if Honi was teasing. She wasn't.

Damien's eyes on his former love were kind, benevolent. “Couldn't you just congratulate us?”

Honi shook her head. “You and I belong together, Damien. Always have, always will. Anyone else is an interloper.”

Honi's face looked drawn and angry as Damien told her, “We're pushed for time. We'll see you around.”

The woman looked as if she was in a trance. “Yes, I'm sure we'll always see each other.”

She leaned forward and kissed Damien on the mouth.

She walked away then, suddenly beautiful again.

Stevie felt a twinge of hurt and anger. “She's a poor loser,” was all she said.

Damien grinned. “And you're my all-time woman. I love you, babe.”

He kissed her then and Stevie tingled to her toes at the words
I love you
and she wondered if Honi had watched. Because Honi's stance had said,
I will never give him up
.

 

On their way to Detective Rollins's office, they were stopped at a gas station when the detective coincidentally pulled in, too. He got out and came over to their car. “Hey, I was on my way to your place and to Club Insomnia. Afraid I've got some bad news for you. How about coming in now and we'll talk.”

“What's this about?” Damien asked.

“I'd rather wait to tell you. It's not pretty and it's a shocker to me, but I don't know why, because God knows I've seen most of it.”

Damien and Stevie didn't talk much on the way. It was a short distance and soon they sat in Detective Rollins's office.

“Feel free to hit my snack-and-beverage table,” the detective said. “You may need the java when I say what I have to say.”

Damien laughed. “Just say it, man.”

“We've arrested Ron Miller for stealing Ms. Evans's jewels. He tried to pawn three of the pieces in Atlanta. They called us right away. A sapphire ring, diamond ear studs and a yellow diamond ring.”

Stevie felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. “Couldn't there be some mistake?”

Detective Rollins drew a deep breath. “Nope. We've got his signature, pictures of him making the transactions. And we're looking into him as a possible suspect in her murder.”

Stevie felt sick then. Ron? How could this be?

It felt inane to say it. “I've known Ron so long. He's gifted, Detective Rollins.”

The detective laughed shortly. “Brilliance and giftedness never kept anyone from being a killer.”

“What is he saying?” Stevie asked.

“He isn't. He wants to talk with you. He wants to explain it all to you, he said. I'd sure like to hear that explanation. You'll be recorded, of course.”

Stevie thought for a moment she didn't want to hear Ron's explanation. Disappointment was like gall in her system. What explanation could he possibly give?

“He's in the lockup here. You want to talk with him? Or I should ask,
will
you, because I'm damned sure you don't want to.”

Stevie looked at Damien who reached over and gripped her hand. “Yes,” she finally said. “I'll talk with him.”

In the jail cell, Ron was alone. Sitting on his cot, he was disheveled and looked as if he hadn't slept in days. He stood up when she and the detective came in, but said nothing.

“I can push it,” Detective Rollins said, “and give you twenty minutes. There's a guard nearby if you need him. The cell is monitored by TV, so don't get out of hand, Miller.”

Ron didn't say anything. “Thank you,” Stevie said to the detective.

When they were alone, Ron still didn't speak. “How could you?” Stevie said bitterly.

For long moments, he stared at her, numb, then feeling seemed to come back into his rangy body. “Let's sit down. They're going to try to hang me for killing her,” he said, and his voice sounded choked. “But I didn't, I
couldn't
kill her. I love her more than life itself.”

“You didn't know her all that well,” Stevie scoffed.

Ron's laugh was scornful. “Well enough for us to be really good friends. Yeah, you look at me like I'm a monster with three heads, and that was the way she was looking at me in the end.”

“Why would you pawn her jewelry? Are you going to deny that, too?”

He shook his head. “I was going to use the money to go away, the way she was paying me to do.”

“I don't understand.”

“Neither did I nor do I understand why she didn't love me the way I loved her. She told me she loved a married man, but she'd never say who.” He sounded aggressive now. “Didn't she tell you?”

“No. Bretta was the most private person I've ever known.”

“She considered me a bum. I told her I'm a better man than Keith Muncy and she had married him. She said I'd never amount to anything. I've got talent, Stevie. I could still go places…”

“It looks like you've taken care of that.”

For a long moment, he put his head in his hands. When he spoke, his face was even more haggard. “God, I love her. She tore my heart out of my body when she told me she was giving me money to start over somewhere else. She suggested Mexico or Brazil. She told me she was withdrawing fifty thousand dollars from the bank and giving it to me in a black suitcase. She was to meet me the night they think she was killed. I couldn't take it. I had to get away, and I had no money. I tried your house first because I know how close you two were. I was going to try Jessi's house. I found the case in your house, all right, but it didn't have the fifty K, just jewels. Jewels probably worth that much, but not in a pawnshop.”

Stevie sat hardly breathing. So the money they'd found in the case was money Bretta had been going to give to Ron.

“I begged her to reconsider because I loved her. I told her I'd pull my act together, and she said I couldn't, it wasn't in me.” He laughed harshly. “Talk about your friends believing in you.”

“From what you've just said,” Stevie cut in, “she knew you better than you know yourself.”

“I wanted her to believe in me. I said that money wasn't enough to set up somewhere else and she said if I'd keep in touch she'd give me more, or give me more before I left. Bretta had plenty of money. Her divorce from Muncy got her that. I wanted her to go away with me. She laughed at that.”

Stevie stared at him. “I wouldn't have gone against you, Ron. I've thought the world of you and your talent, but if you killed her, I swear I hope they give you the maximum.”

“I didn't kill her.”

“Maybe you don't yet know you did. She laughed at you. That does it sometimes.”

His breath was ragged. “When she first told me she didn't want me, I wanted to kill her with the same knife she left twisting in my gut, but I didn't. As soon as I got the money, I was going to leave and I swore I'd make something out of myself, make her sorry, maybe make her love me. I've never loved another woman.”

He got up and began to pace. “Maybe she was right and I'm no good. I took her jewels after she was dead. I had to get out of town. Killing myself wasn't going to bring her back.”

His face looked so drawn and pale she was afraid for him, but she was very angry at him, too.

He sat down, his fists clenched on his knees.

“I wish I could believe you,” Stevie said, “but right now I don't know what to believe. She's dead and someone did it.”

“Probably Muncy.”

“Have you been sending me messages, making phone calls?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Maybe because you thought I had reason to suspect you and you were taking the first steps to silence me, maybe do away with me, too.”

Ron shook his head. “You don't get me at all, Stevie. I'm not that kind of person. I couldn't kill. I couldn't threaten you. It's probably Muncy again.”

But looking at the man who had stood behind her so often, playing his bass fiddle brilliantly and lovingly, she couldn't decide if he was lying or telling the truth. She no longer trusted herself to judge people the way she had. In one fleeting second, Ron Miller had taken that belief away from her. She was secure with Damien, she still knew that. And with that slender cord she held on to life itself.

Out in the hall going back to Detective Rollins's office, Stevie dug into her purse and handed him a slip of paper with her cell phone number on it. “In my shock about Ron, I forgot to tell you about a phone call I got in Minden when we were up there last night.”