Chapter 2
Chapter Two
J ackson Renic looked down at Manhattan’s Friday afternoon traffic from his office window and quietly seethed. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
Behind him, his assistant, Morgan Wells, huffed out an impatient sigh. “You’re an educated man. You know what it means.”
He turned to face her. “Did Jordanna go with her?”
“No. She’s her manager, Renic, not a LoJack. By the time she realized what was happening, Della was gone.”
He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension that had accumulated over the past few hours. If Della had left her manager behind, something more than typical twenty-something antics was going on. “Walk me through it again.”
Morgan lounged in one of the client chairs with one leg crooked over the arm like a teenager, even though she was only a year younger than he was. She had a bright pink streak in her blonde hair and wore a bright yellow shirt over dark jeans and yellow three-inch heels. She tapped a pen against her leg in a quick burst of nervous energy, a sure sign she was in problem-solving mode.
“According to Jordanna, Della said ‘I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.’ Then she took off in an Uber and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. There’s no more to the story than that. You can keep asking but the answer’s not going to change.”
“‘I’m done.’” Renic shook his head. “What does that mean? Done with parties? Done with music? Done with life?”
Morgan shrugged. “Won’t know until we talk to her, but it can’t mean anything good after an all-night party like that. Last time I said something even close to that was the night my band had that big fight. We broke up the next day.”
“She’s a solo act. Her band already broke up.” Renic gripped the back of his chair. “Is there any way to track her?”
“Not yet. I’ve tried talking my way into Uber, but they refuse to cooperate. We never enabled the tracking on her new phone, so that’s out. I have someone staking out her apartment in case she turns up there, and all of her inner circle has strict instructions to contact me or Jordanna if they see her. I’m not sure what else we can do except wait for her to surface.”
“You’re saying she’s been off the grid for”—Renic checked the clock on the wall—“seven hours and counting.”
“Just about, yeah.”
Renic swore under his breath. The biggest and brightest star in his portfolio might be dead or kidnapped or on a plane to Paris. “Damage control?”
Morgan looked down at her phone. “I already canceled the press thing today, and the interview with Good Morning New York tomorrow. They were pissed but I told them she was sick, and that they’d still get first dibs. That made them happy for now. ”
He waved those two issues away like the gnats they were. “What about the tour? How many dates are firm?”
“About half of them are firm but the others are somewhat flexible since the biggest part happens after the first of the year. The one to worry about is the launch at Madison Square Garden. Even though it’s well before Thanksgiving, it’s part of a holiday kickoff, and I can’t cancel it or move it, and by contract we aren’t allowed to substitute. If she doesn’t show, we owe the penalty plus we lose booking rights for the next three years. We do not want to piss off these people.”
“Do they know she’s missing?”
“Not yet.” Morgan stopped tapping the pen and returned her attention to her phone. “It’s only a matter of time, though. People saw her leave. Sooner or later, they’ll start to talk. I’d put money on the Uber driver spilling the beans at some point.”
Renic closed his eyes and tried to gather all of his anger into a tight ball. Morgan didn’t deserve his bad mood, but damn it could be frustrating to deal with talent. Della was such a pro that sometimes he forgot how young she was. “What else are we doing to find her?”
“I have the team checking her extended network of friends—”
He snorted. “Groupies, you mean.”
“Yeah, well, they make great stalkers, and that’s what we need right now. Jordanna is working a few of her own angles. We’ll find her. It’s just a question of who finds her first, us or the paparazzi. And when.”
His anger settled into something more like concern and started to grow. What if something serious had happened? This wasn’t normal behavior for Della. Was she just having a moody moment, or had she been assaulted or threatened in some way? “We need to do more than just find her. We need to know why she bolted. What happened at that party?”
Morgan shrugged. “Far as I can tell, nothing. Usual people, usual antics. As parties go it was fairly tame—no huge amount of recreational drugs except booze. The only thing that stood out was the impromptu sing-along by the award winners in the early hours. Usually by then the ones who are left are all passed out.”
“Sing-along?” He lifted an eyebrow.
Morgan grinned. “Yeah, like when we used to shut the bar down at the end of the night. Remember?”
“I remember being drunk off my ass belting out a very off-key ‘New York, New York’ as they turned up the lights.”
“Well, singers on an award and booze high sometimes do that during parties too, especially the younger ones. I remember one particular night when the ladies and I just kicked it until the sun came up. That was a great night. No audience. No crap. Just music.”
The image her words invoked of drunk people happily singing to the dawn didn’t fit with Della’s statement or her abrupt disappearance.
“Did she sing? Along with the rest, I mean?” Renic asked.
Morgan tapped her pen on the soul of her shoe and tilted her head as if sifting through a mental filing cabinet. “I think so. At least, nobody said she didn’t. I can nail that down, if you want.”
He nodded. “Please do. And ask them about her mood. Try to pinpoint when it shifted from happy award winner to whatever she was at the end. Something happened to her last night, and we need to know what.”
Morgan nodded and walked to the door. “I’m on it. By the way, Nate Edwards is waiting to see you. ”
Renic suppressed a groan. “Right. Send him in. And, Morgan…”
She paused with her hand on the door handle.
“Let me know the instant you find her. No matter what’s going on.”
“Yep,” Morgan said. She opened the door and strolled out as if she didn’t have the weight of a missing person search on her shoulders. “Next.”
A tall, gray-haired man wearing cowboy boots and a belly walked through the door after Morgan left. He watched her go with a rueful expression. “That girl never did have any airs, and still don’t. I like that about her.”
“Nate. Good to see you.” Renic came out from behind his desk to shake hands with one of the most influential men in the music business, the head of Dream Works Records. “Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, no. I have a dinner to get to with my wife. She’ll kill me if I’m already liquored up.” Nate lowered himself into the recently vacated client chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him with a grunt. “Damn knee. Always acting up just when I have places to get to.”
Renic sat down in the chair next to Nate. “What can I do for you, Nate?”
“Well, son, that offer is still on the table and the uppity-ups are gettin’ anxious. Have you given it any more thought?”
Renic pressed his lips together to keep the wrong words from spilling out before he could stop them. He wanted to tell Omega Music Group where they could stick their offer, but it wasn’t good business to offend someone who could make or break careers over breakfast, and besides, he liked the older man.
Nate gave him his start in the music business when he was fresh out of college, and mentored him every step of the way, even when he wanted to strike out on his own and make his own label. Nate was a class act, a mentor, and a friend.
“Silence ain’t an answer.” Nate gave him a pointed look.
“I thought I already made my position on this pretty clear,” Renic said finally.
“I know you think we’re the big, bad bully come to push you around. I know because I’ve been in your shoes. Twice.” Nate’s grin was rueful. “But nobody ever offered me a shot like this. You keep control over your stable. You get a cash infusion. Access to Omega resources. What’s the holdup? Be honest with me.”
“That’s a loaded word,” Renic said. “Most people don’t want honest. They want it coated in a layer of bullshit.”
“I don’t need or want bullshit, son. I need an answer.” Nate’s smile took the sting off the words.
“Honestly, Nate, I’m just not ready to lose control of this thing. Self Evident Records is more than just a company to me.”
Nate leaned forward. “We get that. That’s why we aren’t asking for a full merger. You keep control of your current list, including Della, Tyrone, and Keith. All we want is access to the new talent you scout. Not full access, mind you. Shared. Did you even look at the papers I left with you?”
Renic tried hard not to cringe at the mention of Della’s name. Tyrone and Keith both had promising futures, but Della was his ace. If he couldn’t find her and get her back on track, he’d be forced to take this deal whether he wanted it or not. Otherwise he couldn't afford to get the other two off the ground. “I have lawyers looking over them.”
“Lawyers,” Nate scoffed. “I’m not worried about the legalese. I’m worried about your future. You’re like a son to me. You always have been. I been in the business long enough to know when the ground is starting to shake under someone’ s feet. You need the safety net. Your wagon is hitched to a pretty bright star, but what happens to your business if that star falls? You think about that?”
It was all Renic had been thinking about for the past few hours, but there was no way he would tell his mentor and potential business partner that bit of information. Instead, he put on a smile that hopefully conveyed the confidence he should be feeling. “That’s the thing, Nate. The sky’s full of stars.”
“But not everyone has the talent for finding the one star that shines brightest. You have a real gift, Renic. Think of how many more you could find with a little help from a friend.”
A knock at the door saved Renic from having to answer.
He and Nate both turned as the door opened, and Morgan poked her head in. “Hey, boss, I have an update for you, when you’re ready.”
She paused and looked at Nate. “Your wife called. She told me to tell you to get moving.”
Nate laughed. “She did not. But I take your point.”
Nate stood slowly and patted him on the arm. “This is a good offer for both of us. Think on it, will you? We need a yes by the time Della’s tour launches so we can push the marketing.”
“Understood.” Renic walked with him to the door. “Thanks for stopping by, Nate. Say hi to Brenda for me.”
Morgan stepped aside to let the man by, and they both watched him get on the elevator. Once the doors slid shut and Renic was sure they could no longer be heard, he rounded on Morgan.
“What did you find out?”
Morgan wiggled her phone at him. “There’s been a couple of fan sightings. Look at this. ”
She tapped on her phone then spun it around to show Renic an image of Della in a black cocktail dress in line at a Starbucks.
He thought she looked tired, and her makeup was smudged in a way he didn’t like, but otherwise she seemed okay. “Where’s this?”
“This one’s tagged Scranton, Pennsylvania.” She dragged her finger across the screen until another image appeared of a red sedan in a McDonald’s drive-through. “And this is Binghamton, New York.”
The picture was blurry, but he could make out Della’s wavy blonde hair in the backseat. He squinted at it but couldn’t see anything more significant than that she was eating junk food. “She’s heading north. How long ago was this taken?”
“It’s time stamped 2:13.” Morgan took her phone back and stared at the picture. “Where the hell is she going? I mean, the only thing up that way is Syracuse and the Canadian border.”
A flash of relief that Della had been spotted alive and well was followed by a flicker of unease. He knew exactly where Della had gone, and it made perfect sense. He just wished she'd gone to Canada instead. “Not Syracuse. Seneca Lake.”
Morgan frowned. “Seneca Lake? What’s she going there for?”
He should have realized sooner where a twenty-eight-year-old, upset girl would go for comfort. Most people her age ran home, but Della’s father and mother were both dead. If she wanted comfort, she’d find it in the arms of her older sister. “She’s gone to see Lizzie.”
Morgan looked surprised. “I thought she was still in the city.”
He shook his head. “She moved upstate after her marriage went south three years ago, right after their dad died. Bought a little bed-and-breakfast on the lake. This complicates things. Do me a favor, shoot the address to Belhurst Castle over to Jordanna and have her head that way. It’s a long drive. The sooner she gets there the better. I’d go myself but I don’t think that’s the right move.”
Morgan tapped the address into her phone, then dialed a number on her way to the door. “Got it. Don’t worry, boss. If anybody can talk her down, it’s Jordanna.”
“Hope so. Tell her to keep me posted. And keep an eye on the social media.”
Relief untied the growing knot in his stomach. Della was safe in upstate New York with her sister. Jordanna could be there by morning, giving her the entire weekend to convince Della to come back to work.
With any luck, Della would return in time to do the morning shows next week, and the launch after that. He wouldn’t have to chase after her and risk running into Lizzie.
He paced back to the window and stared out at the darkening sky without really seeing it. The last time he’d seen Lizzie, she’d been full of spit and vinegar, and so angry at him for the way he’d helped Della step out as a solo artist that her velvet brown eyes had turned nearly black.
He still remembered the exact words she’d used that day. She’d spoken in a low tone so full of repressed rage that it had sent chills up his spine.
You destroyed my family. I hope you find out what that feels like someday, and I hope you choke on that business of yours, you Self Evident asshole.