Page 60 of Wildfire
By the fourth night, I am already sick of take-out food. I miss my home-cooked dinners with him, and I miss waking up in bed with him. But getting to play in front of audiences and sing these soulful songs is giving me what I need to keep going. I feel alive when I'm on stage.
That is, until we hit Nadir. Zoe can't believe someone named a town Nadir, but they did, and we have a gig here. I looked the word up and agree with her. It should have been a blazing neon sign to Trevor when he planned the tour to not stop here.
We pull up to the bar, and no one seems to know we are supposed to play tonight. There is no sound guy, and the patrons all look like they are growing cobwebs because they've been sitting in the same spot for so long.
Trevor convinces the bartender to let him do the sound check so he can get the levels right, and while he is doing it, a couple of rough-looking guys come in. They sit at a table near the stage, and after a round of shots, they start saying shit to me while we are warming up.
"You gonna show us something more, pretty lady?"
"When's the wet T-shirt contest?"
"I got a twenty in my pocket. Wanna show me what else that mouth can do?"
After that last comment, I hurl myself off the stage— boots first. I kick one guy in the nuts before Trevor and Jordy jump in and shove the guys away from me. But then the bartender comes out from behind the bar swinging a baseball bat and starts threatening us, telling us to get our shit and leave.
Real rock and fucking roll.
Needless to say, we not only don't play that gig, but we also lose any money we would have made and have to sleep in the van because money is tight and merchandise sales aren't as good as they need to be.
To top it all off, the next two gigs are hundreds of miles apart from each other, and Jordy has come down with some food poisoning so we stop to let him out to hurl on the side of the road every hour or so.
Yup. Rock and roll.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Cole
Renée's been gone for three weeks, and I've never been more miserable. Even though there haven't been any fires since she left, and the town is starting to talk about other things, I can't find anything to lift my spirits.
I went to speak with Georgia and got enough information on her ex-boyfriend that the Sheriff and I decided to rule him out. It turns out Jensen left her and the band, not the other way around, like I'd heard. I'm guessing she was trying to save face when he moved out.
So we're back to square one and have no idea what ties the fires to her or the band. She wasn't too keen on talking to me about it, which makes me wonder if there is something she knows that she is hiding. There is obviously a connection, but where it is remains a mystery. Maybe someone has a vendetta with the band?
I'm not sure what angle I can take that will get her to open up to me, even as she has been dealing with skin grafts and rehab since the fire. I thought the aftermath would loosen her lips, but she just wants to heal and move on.
Then there's Cody. He's got some microphones around the forest to do his bioacoustic research and is picking up some strange sounds. Maybe they're related. It's too early to know. The grad student working for him is reviewing the recordings and will flag some for me.
Today's my day off, so I decide to text Renée and see if we can schedule a call to have a real conversation. She's rarely alone, so we don't get any private time, and it's wearing me thin. I want her voice in my ear, talking about things we both care about, soothing my frayed nerves. So far, all I get is updates about the loud bars, shitty food, and uncomfortable beds.
At least she's having fun singing. I think.
I slip on my flip-flops and head outside with my phone. I shoot off a text and figure I'll go for a quick swim while I wait for her to text me back. To my surprise, she responds immediately.
Me:Hey, you're up early!
Renée:Can't sleep
Me:Bad bed?
Renée:No. Just miss you
Me:...
Me:I hate to admit it, but I'm glad you're missing me
Renée:Of course I am
Me:Any chance you can sneak away and chat privately on the phone?
Renée:Lemme slip on my boots and a sweater. It's actually chilly here!
