Chapter 2 #2
In the kitchen, Genevieve watched as Abe moved with surprising grace for such a large man. He found eggs, cheese, and vegetables without having to ask where anything was, as if cooking in her kitchen was the most natural thing in the world.
"So," he said, whisking eggs in a bowl, "tell me more about Jason Thornton. When did you first meet him?"
Genevieve leaned against the counter. "A few years ago, when I was between bands." Memories flooded back. "Jason had just started his own label and was looking for artists. He had connections and no trouble booking venues. It seemed like a good opportunity."
"And it wasn't?" Abe poured the eggs into the pan.
"At first, it was great. Even though Jason was a pain, the band worked well together, and the gigs were good." She twisted a dish towel between her fingers. "Then he started making it clear he wanted more than a professional relationship with me."
"And you weren't interested."
"Not even a little." Genevieve sighed. "I was already dating my second husband, which rubbed Jason the wrong way, even though it was none of his business. Besides, there was something off about him. He was too controlled one minute, and too intense the next."
Abe nodded then slid the omelet onto a plate.
"I refused his advances, but that didn't stop him from trying." She accepted the plate with a grateful smile. "When Alton took me out, Jason got weird and possessive. He showed up at our dates and called at all hours."
Abe leaned against the counter opposite her. "Did you report him?"
"I tried, but he was careful. He never did anything that violated the law.
" The omelet was delicious, but she'd lost her appetite.
"Then I left his band and proceeded to get married.
At first Jason was furious, then he just…
disappeared. I heard stories about him or read about his achievements.
But it seemed that he was done with me, or so I thought. "
"Until now." Abe seemed thoughtful. "What's changed recently? Are you being offered new opportunities? Do you have a higher profile?"
Genevieve paused mid-bite. "Actually, yes. I've been talking with Pickford Recording about a deal. Nothing has been signed yet, but it would be my biggest break in years."
"Would Jason know about that?"
"Maybe he would. It's a small world in the industry here, and word gets around." She put her fork down. "Do you think that's why he's back? He intends to sabotage this chance?"
"It fits." Abe crossed his arms. " Success can be fragile sounded like a threat."
A knock at the door interrupted them. Abe checked through the peephole before letting in a burly man with a toolbox.
"Brian, thanks for coming on short notice." Abe clapped the man's shoulder.
The locksmith nodded to Genevieve. "Ma'am."
While he worked on the locks, Abe pulled Genevieve aside. "I need to ask you something personal."
"Go ahead."
"You shared that you got your tattoo after your first heartbreak. What was his name?"
"Maurice Bennett."
"Did Jason know about him and what happened between you?"
Genevieve frowned, thinking back. "I might have mentioned it. Why?"
"The roses." Abe's expression was grim. "He's targeting old wounds."
Maurice was her first real love. The pain of the heartbreak had inspired her earliest songs and pushed her deeper into music as an emotional release.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "That was so many years ago."
"It doesn't matter. If he knows it hurts you, he'll use it." Abe squeezed her hand. "I need to understand what we're dealing with, and what drives this guy."
She nodded. "Maurice and I met in high school. He was my first everything, my first love, my first…" She blushed slightly. "We had big plans. I was going to be a famous blues singer, and he'd be right beside me."
"What happened?"
"Reality." The old pain had dulled but was still there. "After graduation, he got offered a corporate job. He needed a proper wife and demanded that I give up my hobby . When I refused…he left me."
"I'm sorry."
"Ancient history." She attempted to smile. "But it shaped me, made me more determined to succeed, and to prove I'd made the right choice."
"And the tattoo?"
Genevieve's free hand drifted to her shoulder. "It was a reminder of love. And that it doesn't always last." She looked into his eyes. "I suppose I've survived that, though."
Abe's gaze was intense. "You're remarkable, you know that?"
The compliment warmed her, but before she could respond, Brian called from the door, "All set, detective. There are new deadbolts on the front door and I added a reinforced strike plate. Nobody's getting through these without a battering ram. Here's the new set of keys."
"Good man." Abe paid the locksmith, who thanked him before leaving. Then he checked his phone. "I need to stop by the station to file a report and drop off the note. Will you be okay here for a couple hours?"
"I'll be fine." Genevieve tried to project confidence she didn't entirely feel. "I have some songs to work on anyway."
Abe hesitated. "Lock up after me. An officer will be here shortly to dust for prints."
While waiting, Genevieve thought about Jason watching, planning his next move. The idea made her shiver.
Genevieve picked up her guitar. Music had always been her solace, her way of processing emotion. She closed her eyes and played chords without conscious thought. A new melody emerged, something haunting yet hopeful.