Pecan Pie and Deadly Lies (An Adams Grove Novel) Read online

  Pete, the lead guitarist, walked up to Cody. “Did you see your little Georgia Peach out there?”

  Cody gave Pete an I-told-ya-so look. “Yeah. I told you she’d be back around as soon as we got close to Virginia.”

  “Guess I owe you that twenty bucks. I thought she’d have moved on since she got married last year.”

  “If she ever stops showing up, then something’s wrong.” Cody couldn’t recall her real name, although he’d known it once. They’d called her Georgia Peach for at least ten years running. That gal had been to every concert of theirs within day-trip drive of her home in Georgia since the year he cut his first number one song, “It’s a Tragedy.” When he released “A Mother’s Love” last year and it went straight to number one, everyone knew he’d written that song about Kasey and Jake, but Georgia Peach had sent him a note saying the words must have been from God to him just for her. Some said his Georgia Peach was crazy, but he knew she was just a superfan having a good time. For some reason his music connected with her in a special way. Fans came in all shapes and sizes and all attitudes, and even after all these years he still appreciated every single one of them. His security took care of the downright crazy ones.

  If there was one thing Momma had taught him well, it was that if he ever got the chance to make a living as a musician it would be because of something more than just talent. God had a plan and he’d been fortunate enough to be given a gift he loved, that he felt duty bound to share. Music was his vehicle, but the fans were his fuel.

  The homegrown rhythm of hands and feet stomped out a mantra for more. They had to know he’d be back for an encore. After all, he hadn’t sung his signature song yet. He wished he’d kept count of how many times he’d sung “It’s a Tragedy” over the years. That song never got old.

  The band was packed in the small backstage area like shoppers waiting to get in on Black Friday. Some of his peers wouldn’t dream of playing in a small joint like this, but it wasn’t about the money or the ego, it was about the people—sharing the music and making memories.

  Pete led the band members back on stage and hit those few well-known chords.

  Cody stood just offstage as the crowd grew louder in response to it, then gave the nod. The lights hit the stage at exactly the same moment he did. Sometimes the way that cheering swirled louder, it felt like they’d lift him right off his feet.

  He pushed past the lump in his throat to sing. The fans knew every word and when he pushed the microphone toward them, they filled in the blanks.

  “Come on, y’all.” He clapped his hands over his head and watched the audience turn into a human kaleidoscope as he sang. “That’s right, Maryland.” He sang, “Call it a legacy.” Then shouted, “Sing it with me.”

  He waved the microphone toward the crowd and they finished the verse.

  “You can call it heredity. But to the child caught in the middle… it’s a tragedy.”

  A woman to the far left of the crowd caught his eye. From a distance it looked like Lou, or maybe it was just the way she was standing. He stepped back as Pete moved to the spotlight for the guitar solo, but when Cody glanced over where the woman had been standing, she was gone. Probably my imagination. Not likely she’d be in Maryland anyway. Unlike some of the fans, Lou was more of a two-hour max kind of concert-goer, unless he flew her in.

  Georgia Peach swayed to the music with her arms overhead, offbeat from the rest of the folks and wearing a grin that said she didn’t really care.

  The song came to an end and she and the rest of the crowd exploded into applause.

  “Y’all keep that love in your heart. Thanks for coming out.” Cody jogged backstage, then straight to his bus.

  He knocked twice and the door opened. “You got company,” the driver said with a nod toward the living area.

  Cody stepped up and saw Arty Max sitting on his couch holding a Scotch.

  Unexpected. “Hey, man.” Cody shook Arty’s hand and dropped onto the other end of the couch. “Didn’t know you were going to be here tonight. Did you catch the show?” He took off his hat and set it aside.

  “Most of it. Sounded good.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about coming up to the house for the party. You didn’t give me an answer.”

  “Yeah, I did. I told you I’ve got plans.”

  “Okay, so you didn’t give me the answer I wanted to hear.”

  Nothing new there. “That’s why you’re here?”

  “Yeah, I’m harder to say no to in person.”

  Not for me. “Can’t do it. I’ve been on the road for twenty-one straight days. As soon as I get through this week I’m taking a few days for all of us to recharge before we head to Texas to shoot the commercial. Then it’s back to the house to finish up the new release.”

  “You wouldn’t have worked twenty-one straight days if you hadn’t tucked all these little podunk gigs in between the real concerts.” Arty hated it when Cody took it upon himself to add these small gigs between the scheduled arena dates, but that was a pill he’d just have to swallow as part of the ride. Small price for the payoff he’d earned from being Cody’s agent for the last seventeen years.

  “Don’t start.” Cody raised a hand. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t make it.”

  “Come on, man. If you’re at the party it’ll bring in more press.”

  “You know I don’t like that stuff.” Cody poured a glass of water and gulped about half of it.

  “No, but Dustin Barnes could use the extra attention that having you there would bring.”

  “So, that’s what this is about. Your new kid on the block.” Of course there was more to it. Always was with Arty, but then that’s why Arty had done so well for himself over the years.

  “Making an appearance wouldn’t kill you. You’ll like Dustin. He reminds me a lot of you when you were just getting started.”

  Now they were getting to the crux of the matter. Arty wanted him to boost the new solo act he’d just signed. Next he’d be asking Cody to let Dustin open for him. “Sorry, man. Send Dustin my best. I’ll make it up to him some other time.”

  “You’re killin’ me.” Arty leaned forward. “Don’t you remember when you cut your first record?”

  “I haven’t forgotten that. Can’t do it this time though.”

  The bus door opened and this time Annette walked in. She’d been on the payroll for more than five years now and Cody wasn’t sure how he’d get along without her handling all the PR and media stuff. She could do damage control better than anyone he’d ever met, and she’d learned pretty quickly to ignore Arty, which was something he’d never seen anyone else get away with.

  She looked surprised when she saw Arty sitting there. “Hey, Arty. You should have told me you were coming. I’d have made sure you got the royal treatment you love so much.”

  “I don’t think they serve that here,” Arty said.

  She shook her dark hair back over her shoulders and rolled her eyes.

  Cody gave Arty a warning nod. “Don’t underestimate her. That girl’s magic. She can make anything happen anywhere. She’s never let me down.” She popped in and out as needed whenever there were interviews to do, and when he needed damage control, there was no one better to have on his side. The dark-haired beauty knew her business. He owed Arty big-time for bringing her onto the team.

  “Thanks, Cody. It’s nice to be appreciated by someone.” She glared at Arty.

  “You might be assigned to work for Cody, but I’m the one cutting the checks that pay your salary, Annette. Don’t push your luck with me.” Arty steadied a don’t-screw-with-me look on her until she rolled her eyes again and walked away, then he turned back to Cody. “What are you doing that’s so damn important you can’t give me two hours for the party?” He waved his wiry arms around as he spoke. “Don’t tell me you’re tired. I don’t want to hear it because these gigs weren’t in the plan when we set up the tour—the profitable part of your schedule. The
se little shows are barely worth the gas in the two buses to get here.”

  “You get your cut no matter what, so don’t worry about it.”

  Arty pushed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, but I’ll never understand why you do it. Look, what’s one more day? Just come and make a short appearance; hell, even just an hour, that’s all I ask. Besides, the publisher for your coffee-table book is going to be at the party and it wouldn’t hurt for you to give them an update on that barbecue book project you’ve got on the back burner with them.”

  “You’re way better at that kind of talk than I am. That’s why you get paid the big bucks.” Cody stood up and poured another glass of water from the pitcher in the refrigerator. “Look. I’ve got meet and greets to do. Is that all you came for?”

  Arty shrugged. “Yeah. Waste of good time.”

  “Hey, I could’ve saved you the trip with a phone call.”

  “Fine. So where are y’all going to be after the Virginia Beach show?”

  Cody wasn’t about to get into this with him. “I made plans to drop in on an old friend.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  He turned his back on Arty. “We’re not having that conversation. It’s personal and you never like who I like anyway.”

  Arty laughed. “That’s because you have a lousy track record. They’re either gold diggers or…”

  “They dump me. You can say it. They dump me because I work too much or whatever, but that’s my problem to deal with. Not yours. Besides, I already know this one.”

  “You’re going to look up someone who already didn’t work out. That’s just stupid.”

  “People change. I’ve changed, and I’m not getting any younger.” Truth was he’d looked up his first serious gal, Lou, a while back. Although recently he’d put off getting back together with her for so long he wasn’t sure if it was even a good idea anymore, but that wasn’t the point.

  “It’s a mistake. Don’t do it.” Arty shook his head. “You never listen though.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not as tenderhearted as I was back then.”

  “You say that now. You know if this mystery someone came looking for you, she wants something.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence there, buddy. But that’s where you’re wrong. This time I went looking for her.” Cody stood at the door of the bus and nodded toward Annette. “Found her, too, with a little help from my friends.”

  “You did this?” Arty glared at Annette. He looked like he was going to pop a vein. “You’ve heard the stories about Cody when his heart’s broken.”

  “It was a long time ago, Arty.” She ripped a sheet of paper from her padfolio and handed it to Cody. “Here are the rest of the details you need for the week.” Then she handed him a stack of glossy photographs. “These are for the meet and greet.”

  “Thanks, Annette.” Cody hugged her and she turned to leave.

  “Annette, give me a call tomorrow. I need to talk to you.” Arty slung back the rest of his drink and muttered as she walked off the bus. “She really ought to mind her own business.”

  “I asked her to help me, Arty. Don’t give her any shit. It’s going to be fine. It might not even go anywhere.”

  “Damn right it won’t. You need to leave the past in the past.”

  “Couldn’t agree with you more. She and I haven’t even talked about the past, and I’m fine if we never do. But we have been talking and I think we’re going to give this another shot now that things aren’t so crazy like they were when I first got into the business.”

  “Which one is it? Let me guess. The brunette from Florida. What was her name?”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “No. No. I know. That girl Jackie with the horse farm. She lived up near DC, didn’t she? Up near Pete’s folks.”

  “You never give up.”

  “Fine. Don’t tell me, but I’ll go on record. Don’t do it, Cody—you know it’s never wise to go backward. You could have any woman in the world.”

  “That’s a total line of BS and you know it.”

  “Why are you barking up an old tree? If you want to settle down, find someone new. Find someone who is on your level.”

  “My level? You know I don’t think that way.”

  “Well, you should. Let me set you up with someone. I know lots of nice gals in the business.”

  Cody laughed aloud at that comment. “You don’t know any nice girls.”

  “I know people who know nice girls.”

  “That’s more like it, but no thanks. I think I can handle this on my own.”

  “Well, fine, but don’t come crying to me when it blows up on you and expect me to forgo the pleasure of a good told-you-so. But then again, you have written some of your best hits after breakups. On second thought, this could just work to both our benefits.”

  “It’s not going to be like last time.”

  “Oh really? What makes you so sure?”

  “I’m older now. I’m in a different place.”

  “Haven’t you heard the saying that you can’t go back home?”

  “This is different.”

  Pete pounded on the door as he stepped up into the bus. “You ready, Cody?”

  “Sure, yeah,” Cody said. “Look, I’ve got to run. Good to see you.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, head on up to the estate. It’s going to be a helluva party and Johnny G. will be there. You know he’s been talking about doing a remake of that movie. It could be your part. Come up and make it happen.”

  “Tempting, but I’m ready for some downtime. Besides, I’ve got that album to get out before spring and I can’t possibly put something else on my plate right now.”

  “Never thought I’d hear you pass up an opportunity like this.”

  “Maybe my priorities are shifting.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

  “You’ll be fine.” Cody walked to the back of the bus to change shirts, then grabbed a handful of permanent ink markers, black and silver, and tucked them in his back pocket. He cuffed Arty’s shoulder as he headed down the stairs. Cameras flashed as Cody exited the bus, and Arty slipped out behind him.

  For an hour Cody shook hands and posed for pictures with fans and street team members. By the time he’d said good-bye to the last person, the guys had everything packed up and ready to go. Cody was barely settled in the front lounge area of the bus when the wheels started to spin.

  Pete gave a nod to Cody as he strummed his guitar. He was tinkering with a melody they’d been working on the last couple of weeks off and on. “I think I got it figured out.” He played the chords.

  Cody bobbed his head to the beat and then smiled wide. “Yeah. That’s it. Perfect.” He grabbed his guitar and they played it again together until it was just right. Then they hunkered down over the table and reworked the lyrics for about the hundredth time.

  Pete laid down his guitar. “Want something to eat?” He opened the door of the full-size Sub-Zero fridge and took out a tray of deli meats. “I’m going to make a sandwich.”

  “No thanks. I’m going to hit the shower.” Cody went back to his room, finally able to slow down a little now that the adrenaline of meeting all those people had worn off. He pressed the button that closed the door behind him. This bus was his home for over half of the year. Even when he flew in, he chose to sleep here on his own bus rather than the hotel rooms they were given. Some people might think that was hard, but it wasn’t so bad. He had the best of the best amenities on this bus. More than most musicians ever had the chance to enjoy, much less own like he did. Besides, he liked being on the road, and that had always been more than enough, until lately. Lately, he’d found himself a little restless. Yearning for something else. Not really for more, just something different.

  He reached inside the oversize shower to turn on the steam. He had more showerheads and jets in his bus shower than he did at home. Cody let the steam fill the glass enclosure as he stripped down. H
e stepped inside and turned on the rain shower and closed his eyes for a second. He lathered up and scrubbed the sticky sweat from his body, thinking about what it would be like if he wasn’t on the road over half of the year. It was nearly impossible to imagine. He loved every minute, every venue, big or small, and even his worst days were pretty damn good. It would be even better if I had someone to share it with. But it wasn’t an easy life, and not one that just anyone could handle.

  He dried off and threw his towel over the shower stall to dry, then changed into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  Pete rapped twice on the door. “Hey, man. Just wanted to let you know we’re stopping at the next exit to refuel and get some stuff at Walmart.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’ve got a couple tagalongs.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.” Cody opened the door, then lay across the bed. It wasn’t all that unusual to have carloads of women follow the bus after a concert. Less likely at the small events, and they usually gave up after a few miles as they sobered up, but there’d been some who had followed them for a whole twelve-hour drive.

  He felt the bus slow to a stop just as his phone vibrated on the nightstand. He thumbed through the messages. There was one from Lou from earlier in the day saying she’d seen the schedule update that they’d be in West Virginia.

  He rolled over and typed a response. ON THE ROAD NOW. WE WON’T BE TOO FAR FROM YOU. YOU SHOULD COME.

  The phone beeped. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly four in the morning. Her response read, IT’S BEEN A WHILE.

  WHAT ARE YOU DOING AWAKE?

  She texted back that she couldn’t sleep, and she wished she could make the show but she had to work.

  It had been a while since they’d gotten together. No fault of hers. He’d invited her out to a few shows and it had been fun to talk about the old days although they’d tiptoed around the fact that she’d dumped him all those years ago. His relationship with Lou, short for “Bettie Lou,” had been hot and heavy at one time. In fact, he’d always figured she’d be the one he married, but when his career got going, the relationship sank, and she hadn’t even given him the chance to choose—instead she’d dumped him. Too big for his own almost-a-star britches at the time, he hadn’t even tried to get her back.