Chapter Twenty-nine
Luke drove to where he normally parked his truck and headed for the bar. He only had a short time before they expected him onstage, but he decided to make his way along the alley in case he saw Zed.
Sure enough, he was there surrounded by a half dozen partying vacationers. Not taking any chances, covering his head, he pretended to be a drunk and stomped into the group yelling, “Hey ya’ll. That shit he’s selling put my friend in the hospital. He almost died. I’m calling the cops.”
Before he’d finished his sentence, everyone split, including Zed.
Glad he’d stopped that sale but knowing it hadn’t done zip in the bigger scheme, guilt edged in before he could stop it. Making himself a promise that he’d hit the son of a bitch up that same night, he headed into Nudies. With imminent plans to find Zed firming his determination, he straightened his spine for the taxing hours ahead.
Greeted by his band waving him to their special table near the bandstand, he slowly approached. From their smiling faces, he knew they had good news, and that lifted his spirit.
“Hey man, have we got a surprise for you.” Matt held out an envelope and watched Luke’s face as he read the address from the Grand Ole Opry. Hands clammy, he took out the formal letter, and his eyes lit up.
“They want us to play there?” he asked, his voice cracking with disbelief.
Boney yelled “Hee Haw”, slapped his back, and pumped the air, while Cissy kissed his cheek and then handed him a cold beer. Matt answered, “Looks like. You know how hard it is to get an invitation to perform in that joint? A musician knows he’s made it when these people acknowledge him.”
Luke spotted the date and saw it was still months away. Taking a breath of relief, he decided to just let the chips fall where they may. Right now, he had two jobs to do, and one far outweighed the other on the scale of importance. But Jesus… the Grand Ole Opry. A country singer’s dream come true.
That night, the band played better than he’d ever heard them perform before. Their enthusiasm carried him along, so his singing stirred even the harshest critic.
And the harshest one sat near the bar in the back with her head down, her hair hidden under the hood covering her face. Go figure, Linda had called her here tonight of all times, insisting she needed to see Honey in person to share the news she’d dug up.
Listening to the soulful singer who’d broken her heart, she fell into a pit of what-ifs and stayed there while sipping on ginger ale. Sometime later, still waiting for Linda to get a break, Honey covered herself further by allowing two bridesmaids and the bedecked bride to join her table.
They were out to celebrate the coming nuptials and were filled with high spirits. Honey didn’t have the heart to turn them away and keep the table to herself. Besides, they gave her cover… them and the steady stream of guys coming to coax them to the dance floor.
Because Linda had reserved the table for her, she’d chosen one near the end of the room with less space between the table and the long bar. Glad it sat furthest away from the band, she could listen to the music and still watch for when Linda might call her over.
Being a people watcher, Honey passed most of the time checking out the nearest customers, one person in particular. A man dressed in black jeans and a jacket the same color had sauntered in trying to look cool, but she’d noticed him because his hand shook while it clutched something in his pocket.
From the time he’d arrived to slink against the bar, he hadn’t looked away from the band. She watched as his eyes drilled Luke with a look of hatred coloring his expression. Counting, she watched him flip back more than one double whiskey… if the amber liquor in the glass he clutched could be called evidence. With each empty highball tumbler he slammed down, he appeared to be fostering his fury.
Unnerved to the point of finding her own body clenching with rioting suspicions, Honey wavered to her feet and edged closer thinking to say something to him, calm him down or hell – she didn’t know.
Making her move, her brain screamed at her irrational decision. What the fuck are you doing?
Stop!
How could she? Sensing danger, she couldn’t just ignore what her heart knew. This creep wanted to hurt Luke.
As she crept closer, pushing between other customers on the move, she tried to call out, but her voice only squeaked. That’s when she saw him lift the hand from his pocket and hold the gun at his side. Oh, God! Oh, God. What…?
She heard Luke promise to return after a short break and noticed that he intended to head to the bar as he usually did. Sweeping past the fans who surrounded him, he came closer. Honey could see the man’s hand begin to raise, to aim… to steady.
And she dove.
With nothing more than the need to stop him from shooting, Honey grabbed the gun-wielding hand from behind, forcing it upward. She shoved her knee into the back of his as hard as she could. With the weight of her body, she propelled him against an empty barstool, knocking it over, and they both toppled to the ground... the gun landing on the floor, and him on top of her.
Powerful, his body like a snake, he wriggled… his back pressing against her front so she could barely move. In a jujitsu move, she wrapped her arms around his neck in a hold to keep him confined.
The people nearby parted, screaming, shouting… leaving her to deal with the struggling maniac. Reaching behind him, his hand found her loosened hair and his fist clutched at the tumbling curls, trying to force her away. But she wouldn’t let go. She bit his hand so hard, she drew blood. Still he tried to shake her loose, but she clung to his back like a bloodsucker.
Then Luke rushed in to take over. Once she saw his face and heard the harsh voice ordering her to back off, she listened and crept away. He plunged his fist into the stomach of the struggling man while another guy picked the gun up. And another fellow held back the crowd with an FBI badge being used as a reason to be obeyed.
The would-be murderer tried to fight back but Luke was having none of it. He stopped the coming blow and whirled with the arm caught in his while he punched the struggler in the stomach, again and yet again. His prowess had the lookie-loos gasping.
Soon, Luke stood the culprit on his feet with his hands behind his back. That’s when the badge carrier broke in and took over handling the criminal, speaking low to Luke who nodded and stepped away.
In seconds, he leaned down to lift Honey to her feet, his arms holding her so tight, she had trouble breathing. “Oh, God, Honey. Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Christ, I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“I’m good. I’m fine.” Like a baby seeking protection, she snuggled closer until he pulled her away. Holding her by her arms so he could look into her face, his voice cracked as he questioned.
“What are you doing here?”
Suddenly, she was pissed again. Yanking herself from his embrace, she raged, “Really?” She hit out at him, slapped at his reaching hands. “You’re going to ask me that?”
Controlling her by pulling her back in his arms, he groaned. “Christ, you walked out yesterday and left me with the impression that you never wanted to see me again.”
She sniffed while keeping her face hidden against his chest. “That’s true. I only came to see Linda. But I couldn’t just let him shoot you, could I? He had a gun. And his-his face was ugly with hate. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to call out.” She covered her eyes, choking back the sobs.
In seconds, he led her toward the back room, met there by a nervous, upset Linda spilling drops from a large glass of freshly poured ginger ale. She passed the drink to Honey and handed Luke a warm towel. They both sat her down on the only chair in the space while Luke gently wiped the blood from her face. Linda gathered her rioting hair back, taking some combs from her own upsweep and using them for Honey.
“Oh, my God, what’s that?” Honey pointed at the red streaks on the white cotton cloth.
“It’s his blood, Honey. Not yours. When you pushed him over the stool, he must have cut his head. Didn’t you notice?”
“No.” She coughed, her shock obvious, and her temper brewing. “So bite me. I was too busy trying keep us alive.” Then she added, sarcasm making her words humorous. “Little ole me.”
Linda giggled with relief. “Sounds like you’ll be fine, kiddo. I’ll leave you two alone for now. Luke, when you have to get back onstage, let me know, and I’ll see to her.”
Voice stiff and manner unbending, Luke’s words shocked both women. “I won’t be going back tonight. Not now. I’ll take her home, see that she’s safe.”
“No, you won’t—”
His finger stabbed the air and made Honey back away. “Not a word.” He looked at Linda and ordered, “Stay with her until I get back. Just going to let the guys know they’ll be doing the rest of the show themselves.”
“Sure, Luke. I’ll hold her down in case she tries to run.” Linda grinned over her joke and smiled larger when Honey groaned.
Once Luke left, the electricity of the moment lightened, and Honey remembered why she’d shown up that night. “Linda, we’re alone now. Tell me why you wanted me to come and see you.”
Linda squatted down so their faces were even. “I ran into one of the older guys who used to bartend here twenty years ago. Fred’s a good friend, taught me a lot. He said something that made me wonder if it might help with your investigation into your sister’s death.”
“What’s his full name, this Fred you talked with?”
“I promised not to tell you. He doesn’t want to be involved. But I believe him… what he said.”
“Okay. What was it?”
“It’s about Luke’s black friend Hamilton, the guitar player. He used to run with some pretty wild boys back in his day. But he cleaned up, and afterwards, he began counseling youngsters in trouble. Kinda payback to Jesus for his own bad ways. Fred said that if anyone can tell you what you want to know, you should talk with him.”
“How can I? I don’t know the man. I mean I’ve seen him here, especially the night he played with Luke on his birthday. But I don’t know him.”
“No. But Luke does.”