Whisper (23 page)

“Mr. Neuman, do you have anything to add?” the judge asked.

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Whisper

The other attorney motioned for him to stand, which her ex did. “No, your Honor. Nothing.” Doug sat and the judge asked, “Mrs. Neuman.” The minute that bastard hit her, she was no longer a
Mrs. Neuman
.
Her name’s Whisper!

Whisper stood, swayed. Keith fought the urge to go to her. Woodward glared, silently warning him to remain seated. Whisper shook her head and sat, almost falling back into the chair.

“Mrs. Neuman?” When Whisper tried standing that time, Doug grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet. “I need a verbal confirmation.” Their attorney spoke. “She’s unable, your Honor.”

The judge raised his eyebrows.

“Mute. Vocal cord damage, we can produce a physician’s statement if it’s required,” the attorney said. “No need, it’s pretty straight forward. For the record, Mrs. Neuman, since Heather’s also resided with you, do you agree to the proceedings? A nod will suffice.”

Her head drooped forward. She looked ashamed, beaten. She nodded.

“Do we have an agreement then, gentlemen?” the judge asked.

Both attorneys said yes before a gavel rapped.

Keith and Heather stood as the judge left through a side door. Her ex kept hold of her arm and pushed her forward. Whisper walked while looking at the floor. As they passed by, Doug glared at Heather, and Heather stared back. He didn’t display a hint of affection or remorse.

Both attorneys walked to the table, and with the room cleared, Keith couldn’t contain the anger riding him. “What the hell happened? Not one question—

nothing?”

“No need,” Woodward said. “The judge looked 195

Kathleen Lash

over the papers and agreed.”

“How is that possible?”

“You won. No fight, everything drawn up into a neat contract. The only thing the judge questioned was a reference. I provided it with the background check we did and the statement from the Cleveland shelter about your fostering children for them.

You’re now Heather’s legal guardian.” Stunned, he and Heather sat there gazing at him in disbelief.

“We’ll need your signature on a few forms. I’ll file the papers and forward you copies.” He laid out the papers and handed him a pen.

Keith started reading while the attorneys hovered. After reviewing and signing four forms, he read the last. “What the hell is this?”

“A stipend. An allowance until Heather turns eighteen,” Woodward answered. “With support offered, I didn’t think there was anything to discuss.

If the amount isn’t sufficient…”

“Ten thousand dollars? A month? Am I reading this right?”

“That’s correct. Additionally, my fees have been taken care of. You’re retainer will be refunded in its entirety. It’ll go out in the morning mail. It turned out rather well, wouldn’t you say?”

“What happens if I don’t sign this?” Keith asked.

Woodward looked shocked. “We’d have to renegotiate. You don’t want the money?” Heather put her head on the table and cried.

Keith rubbed her back as she sobbed.

“I don’t want her money,” Heather said.

“It’s Mr. Neuman’s money, little girl,” the other attorney said.

Heather looked up and her expression changed from wounded to furious. “Look, idiot, you don’t have a clue! My sister pays for everything.” The attorney gazed at Woodward, horror on his 196

Whisper

face that the
little girl
spoke to him in such a manner. Overwrought for too long, Keith couldn’t help laughing. Woodward laughed and finally Heather did too. The other attorney’s arms crossed as he glared at Keith. “Would you like another go at this? I can guarantee the outcome wouldn’t suit you.”

“Sign it and bank the money or burn it. Take the win, Keith, and figure the rest out later. Heather can get on with her life.” Woodward pushed the paper closer.

Keith signed and helped Heather to her feet.

The three of them watched as the other attorney gathered papers and left without a word.

“How can I get her number?” Keith asked.

“Whose number?” Woodward placed papers in his briefcase.

“
Mrs. Neuman’s
.”

“You
did
read the stipulation in the papers about not contacting them.”

“Yeah, well, I work construction and tunneling.

I’m not too bright at times. Is there a way?”

“I know how,” Heather said, her face lighting up.

“I wouldn’t suggest it. As a matter of fact, don’t you have a flight to catch?”

They did, in a few hours. Woodward extended his hand and Keith shook it. With the first huge burden lifted from his shoulders, he straightened his posture and prepared for the next. It didn’t take long to start weighing him down. She’d made sure Heather would be safe. They needed to figure out how to make Whisper safe too.

****

Kathleen Lash

log off after using it at some point?

Whisper hadn’t replied to a single message, but they kept coming. Billy e-mailed her most recently.

Someone else typed it, the spelling impeccable, but the words belonging to him, probably exactly as he said them.

Miss you bad, Whisper. Keith told me not to say
it, but you should know. Are you taking naps? Do you
have kids there too? Hope you’re not cold. Mark got
better but Heather got the flu. Got a B in spelling.

Spring is coming soon. You would like it. It’s late
here and I have to get a shower. Don’t see why. Not
like I can play outside yet. Do you miss us? Do you
miss me?

Before she could think about it, she hit
reply
and typed,
always
before pushing send.

She logged off and closed the laptop just as Doug walked in. “Hey, Wendy, you ready?” She nodded and he placed his hands on her shoulders. He rubbed and she tried to relax, not wanting him to know how repulsive his touch could be. He’d been at it all day, pills, pot and more. With the amount of drugs he’d ingested, she couldn’t comprehend how he managed to walk around.

“You think the new guys will work out?” She nodded. Doug made some great choices in the guitarists, bass and keyboard players. The only man left from her father’s time was Ben, who’d stepped up as lead singer after her father died. From the time they spent together in rehearsals, Ben cleaned himself up. He seemed to notice an awful lot lately. He’d once again become a serious musician and brought everyone together. They rehearsed old stuff, most of the younger guys improvising and adding their own flair. Tonight they’d be playing three new songs.

Ben kept prompting her in rehearsal to take the beats further, stretch and then let go. Away from 198

Whisper

daily drumming for too long, she needed more time to build confidence. After the first rehearsal, he’d caught her alone. “You okay with Doug—things better now?”

He’d tried to touch her and she flinched away.

“I’ll help you, Wendy.” Ben and her dad had been the same age. They somewhat resembled each other too. “Stick with it and things will change. I’m working on it. A few months and we’ll get you away from him. Okay?”

She hadn’t moved, afraid to acknowledge what he’d said in any way. His eyes had been clear and seemed very attentive. He’d also been around Doug the entire time she’d been gone. If Doug used Ben to test her, a nod of her head could cost big time.

“You with me, Wendy?” Doug asked, pulling her from thought.

She nodded.

“You want something to eat? You have about half an hour.”

Did she finally get thin enough, or did he worry she’d pass out on stage? After the first week, she never really felt hungry anymore. He kept her on the
diet
for her own good. He claimed she needed to be thin to drum effectively. She knew he liked the thin, starved model look. He made sure she attained it.

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a candy bar and held it out. “Just this once, to help with your nerves. You haven’t been out there in a while.” He smiled and she accepted the offering. “Well, go ahead. Eat it.”

She opened it carefully and hesitantly took a small bite, eyeing him the entire time. She chewed and enjoyed the sweetness.

“I’ll get you some coffee. You look tired.” She hated coffee but would drink it, every drop.

Tired didn’t begin to describe the scared, hollow, achy, spinning feeling inside. Maybe the caffeine and 199

Kathleen Lash

sugar would do some good. The sold out concert didn’t help matters, the noise from the crowd was already ear shattering when Doug opened the door to leave.

The computer sat there. The urge to go online once more almost overrode her common sense. She’d check later, see if another message waited. She couldn’t afford to care, but did. After a third bite, she felt sick and laid the candy down. Doug came in with the coffee. She sipped before drinking from the water bottle, getting the coffee down that way.

As time crawled, she paced. Doug sat on the couch and lit a joint. “You want a hit before you go out?”

A knock came. Ben opened the door. He looked good for a fifty-one year old man. He didn’t bother touching up the gray at his temples and he sported a body showing daily workouts. His gravel-bed voice pounded out lyrics like few others, and he moved like a man twenty years younger. In all, he’d become one of the best front men in the business. Not as good as her father, but a very close second.

“Need Wendy up front. We’ve got stuff to go over. She needs to carry Aaron and Blue over a rough spot.”

“Thought you got it worked out in rehearsal,” Doug replied.

“Thought so too, but with the new shit, I don’t trust them.”

Doug waved his hand, dismissing her as he took another long drag. Outside the private dressing room, Ben pulled her close. She didn’t like being physically near to anyone but tolerated it. With the rowdy, noisy crowd out front, she wouldn’t hear him otherwise.

“Blue came up with a fantastic new riff. We should use it. I need you backing him up. If he screws up, or Aaron loses him, drown him out, got 200

Whisper

it?” She knew what he wanted, but didn’t like the idea. They should play what they’d rehearsed.

“Nod your head or something, Wendy.” She did, even though she didn’t agree.

“Big, bad crowd out front. You up for it?”
Would it matter if I’m not?

“One last thing. Been a while for you, so I’ll go over the rules. Backstage is rammed tonight. If you need help, look for one of our security guys, not house security. They have special orders about you.

If you get nabbed by media, they’ll take care of it.

Black tee-shirts and jeans with white baseball caps.

They have the letters
BBB
on the front of the hat.

You got that?”

She did.

He placed his arm around her and escorted her up front. The opening band started playing. She studied the drummer, his technique, tricks and energy. Someone handed her sticks and she became lost in the music as she drummed along on the iron railing. All of the anxiety faded. For the first time in weeks, she felt warm and alive. Connected to the energy on stage, Whisper’s problems drifted away.

201

Kathleen Lash

“I just got another e-mail!” Mark yelled.

Keith and everyone else crowded around the computer to see what Whisper sent this time. The e-mails started off as one or two words, but they’d grown. Nomad hadn’t called in a few days and Mark begged Whisper to say if she knew anything.

He’s here. Working security for the band. Don’t
know how he got in. Can’t make him leave. You try.

Dangerous work. Tell him you need him, he’ll go. ~W

Mark replied,
Keep trying. Won’t answer my
calls. You ok? Mark.

He sent it and Keith figured the very direct plea would probably go without a response. She hadn’t written one word about herself.

Almost immediately, the inbox held another item and Mark opened it. “It’s from Nomad,” Mark said. He opened the e-mail. Nothing appeared in text.

Mark clicked the attachment, which took a long time to load. The sound wasn’t the greatest, but it held video footage of a recent concert. They stood around the nineteen-inch monitor, watching the amateur video. Keith almost wished Heather hadn’t walked in. Whisper looked bad. She’d dropped a lot of weight.

“Who is that?” Billy asked.

Heather started to answer and lost her voice.

She tried again and said, “Whisper.”

“No it’s not.”

Keith watched the three-minute clip in 202

Whisper

amazement. With hair in her face, pounding those drums, he couldn’t believe a woman her size carried so much inside. The number of drums and cymbals dwarfed her, but she made herself heard. The sweat and strain on her face as she stretched and moved, hitting drums with lightning speed and accuracy, stole his breath. Even with black hair plastered against her face, arms barely covered with flesh, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.

Passion drove her. He ventured love once did too.

He left the kids to watch. They needed to visit with an important part of their family. After her being in the house only a few months, they couldn’t seem to mend the hole she left. He’d thought about e-mailing her but didn’t. What he needed to say wouldn’t work through technology. It probably wouldn’t work face-to-face either.

At three in the afternoon, he grabbed his keys and coat and yelled, “I’m going out. I’ll be back.” He heard Mark acknowledge him and left.

Another doctor’s appointment would either have him heading to surgery or getting the cast removed. No matter what the x-rays revealed, if surgery was the answer, it’d be scheduled so the kids could be prepared. No more surprises. They’d dealt with enough.

Half way down the road, his cell rang. “Yeah?”