On The Road Home
It was a few minutes before ten the morning after the police raid, and Toni hoped that the women in the band were already awake. She dialed Ramona’s hotel room and waited until the call went to the message system. “Hi, Ramona, this is Toni. I’m sorry to do this over the phone, but we’re closing the club for the foreseeable future and we’re not going to be able to keep you for the remainder of your scheduled run. If you’ll come by the office some time today, I’ll make sure you get paid for the shows you’ve played since your last check, including last night.” She thought about adding a personal note, something about how she’d miss the women in the band, but she decided not to. “I’ll see you later today.”
She hung up and sighed. George was in custody for attempted murder. Johnny was under arrest with several charges against him, one being that he’d ordered George to kill someone. She still wasn’t sure who George was supposed to have tried to kill, but after thinking about it all night she decided that it had to be Johnny’s new girlfriend Linda. She was the only employee who hadn’t shown up last night, and no one admitted knowing where she was or why she hadn’t come in. Maybe she could learn more when Johnny was actually arraigned in court.
Either the girl had gone to the police and Johnny had found out, or he’d just thought she had and he’d acted. Of course, if that were true, Linda was probably singing her head off about what little she knew about the club and its operations. It wasn’t good, but maybe it wasn’t a complete disaster. With Johnny out of the way, the board would listen to her. Maybe they could achieve that low profile she wanted, assuming the organization survived Johnny’s downfall.
She shook her head. Of course they’d survive. The Metro Gang didn’t depend on Johnny Taylor for its existence. He was important, of course, but their father had been important, too, and the organization had survived his long-term incarceration. They’d survive this crisis, too, and they’d come out leaner and meaner and on top.
She looked up as the substitute doorman – his name escaped her for the moment – leaned his head into her office. “Ms. Taylor, Mr. Snell is here to see you.”
Well, she’d called and asked him to come. “Send him in.”
Martin Snell oozed into the office looking like a successful mob lawyer, which meant that Toni would want to take a long hot shower after their meeting. “Hello, Toni,” he purred. “How are you holding up?”
She waved to a chair in front of her desk. “I’m fine, Martin. Have a seat and tell me how soon you can get Johnny out on bail.”
“I’m not representing Johnny in this instance. His attorney of record is Sheldon Bender.”
“I know that. And I also know that you know just about everything that goes on in the courthouse. You’re working for the family, not Johnny specifically, so you have every right to be in on this case. When can we get Johnny out?”
His smile slipped away as he squished into the chair. “I’m not sure he is getting out, Toni.”
“What? Why not?”
“He’s going to be arraigned on quite a number of charges, including first-degree murder, conspiracy to commit murder, possession of heroin with intent to distribute, possession of cocaine with intent to distribute, possession of eleven unlicensed and unregistered firearms – “
“All right! That’s enough!” she barked. Then she sighed deeply. “What are our options?”
Snell shrugged expansively. “Your legal options are pretty limited. The District Attorney wants him held without bail, and although that’s the arraignment judge’s decision, on a case like this the judge might very well go along with the DA’s wishes. If Johnny doesn’t make bail – and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s held without bail, not with those charges and with his record – he’ll sit in jail until his trial starts. But the DA will surely try to make a deal with him.”
“Huh,” she grunted. “Johnny won’t deal.”
Snell shook his head. “He’s already asked them what kind of deal they can make.”
“What!” The shock nearly knocked her out of her chair. “He – he did what?”
“He’s facing the death penalty, Toni. You’d be surprised what kind of pressure that puts on the toughest of people.”
She leaned her elbows on the desk and put her head in her hands. “What happens if he talks?”
“Well, you know far more about the – the internal workings of the club than I do – “
She lifted her head and glared. “Martin!” she snarled. “Tell me the truth! No evasions, no double-talk! What happens?”
He lifted both eyebrows. “All right. Nearly everyone working at the club, no matter what level or in what capacity, will face criminal charges of some kind. The board of directors will likely face racketeering charges. And,” he leaned closer and lowered his voice, “I myself will be lucky if I only get disbarred. I may be facing criminal charges also.”
She took a deep breath. “We have to do something, get him out somehow and get him away from the city. Tell me how we can do that.”
He shook his head. “We can’t. There’s no way to do that short of a jailbreak. No judge is going to issue him a release before his trial if he’s held without bail, and I don’t have any leverage over the DA’s office. Face it, Toni, your brother is going to be in jail for the foreseeable future.”
Toni stood slowly and walked to the wall where a portrait of her father hung. The picture had been taken back in the days when he’d ruled this part of the city with an iron hand. She reached out and touched it tenderly, wondering what to do, wishing he could advise her some way.
Then she noticed her reflection in the glass. She could see the makeup covering the discolored flesh left over from the latest beating Johnny had given her. She saw her hair and remembered how painful it still was to brush it, and how bruised her scalp still felt. She remembered the times that he’d told her that she wasn’t Pop, that she was just his dumb baby sister and she’d never run the gang, that she’d never be anything more than a glorified secretary.
And she remembered that day in the board meeting when Johnny had pointed a pistol at her head and threatened to blow her brains out.
A wild idea leaped into her head and formed itself into a concept. “Martin,” she asked mildly, “what would happen if something – something happened to Johnny?”
“You mean, something permanent?”
She noted how unsurprised he sounded. “Yes. What would happen?”
“I assume you mean, what would happen to the case. Well, without Johnny’s direct testimony, it would be a great deal more difficult to proceed with the other actions I mentioned, with the exception of the attempted murder charge against George. But it would take much of the legal pressure off the club and the board, not to mention my own humble self.”
She stood looking at the picture of her father. She wondered how he’d react if he knew she was thinking about ordering a hit on his son.
Of course, he need never know. “Martin, is there any way you could – could assist us in this matter?”
“Me?” Even his fake surprise felt slimy. “I’m an officer of the court. I have a sworn duty to uphold the law. And I’m required to adhere to a strict code of ethics.” He polished his fingernails against his lapel. “We are talking about a hypothetical situation here, aren’t we?”
She turned to face him and gave him her best fake smile. “Of course we are. You know, Johnny’s made a lot of enemies, and some of them might think this would be a good time to strike back at him.”
“That’s true. Actually, I am acquainted with someone who might have a vested interest in seeing that Johnny Taylor is no longer around to – ah, interfere with his or her many business ventures.”
Luthor! He was talking about Lex Luthor having Johnny killed! She controlled the shiver running along her spine and calmly asked, “Is there any way that I might talk with this man?”
Snell smiled again. “I never said this person was a man.”
She nodded once. “That’s true, you didn’t. Is there any way that I might meet this – person?”
“That’s not my decision, Toni, but I believe that this person might wish to do business with you. Of course, the negotiations might be held through a third party – someone such as myself.”
“That would be acceptable to me.”
He stood up. “I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can.”
She crossed her arms and stepped closer. “Thanks for coming by, Martin. I look forward to speaking with you again.”
“It will be soon, I’m sure. If we wait too long, Johnny will have already told everything he knows.”
“I know. When do you think you can call me back?”
He extended his hand to shake hers. “I hope to have something concrete by noon today.”
She took his hand and shook it lightly. “Thank you, Martin.”
“Don’t be surprised if the price is a bit steep.”
“Don’t worry. I know the cost of doing business.”
Toni walked him to the door and opened it, then gestured to the first person she saw. “Anita, please walk Mr. Snell to the door. Then get Charlie King on the phone. His hotel number is in the bartender’s directory.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She closed the door and leaned against it. She was going to do it. She was going to take over the club and the gang, and she was going to do it the old-fashioned way. It was totally out of character for her, but she didn’t see any other viable option. Maybe acting out of character would deflect suspicion away from her. Maybe – if she needed the camouflage – she could point the finger at one of the other directors just to muddy the waters for the police.
And sub-contracting the job to Lex Luthor was a dangerous and delicious irony. Her most deadly rival would be removing her most stubborn impediment to power. And Luthor would, of course, try to leverage her with that information, but she wouldn’t let him.
But now she needed a distraction, and Charlie would be it. He was a gentle and caring man, evidenced by the concern he’d shown her the night Johnny had beaten her, and he’d jump at the chance to comfort her. As a bonus, he was young and strong, handsome and unattached, unemployed for the moment, and if she eventually tired of him, no one would miss him if he didn’t want to fade away quietly.
The fact that she was behaving exactly like her brother would in the same situation never crossed her mind.
A knock sounded at her door. “Come in.”
Anita cautiously stuck her head around the door. “Ms. Taylor, I can’t get a hold of Charlie. He ain’t there.”
She frowned. “So? Leave a message with the hotel manager for him to call me.”
“No, ma’am, he ain’t there at all. He moved out this morning, ‘bout half a hour ago. Manager said Charlie was leavin’ town.”
Her shock was palpable. “He – he what?”
Anita’s eyes bulged and her mouth fell open. “He – he left town. M-ma’am!”
Toni’s mood shifted to cold fury. Anita must have sensed it, because she quietly slipped out of the office and closed the door before Toni could speak.
He was gone? Now? Just when she was about to do him the biggest favor of his life? The idiot! The ingrate! Let him go! He’d never know what he missed! The fool!
She took several deep breaths to regain control, then picked up the phone again and dialed the internal number for her driver. An early lunch would be a good thing today.
*****
Mouse turned and gestured to Billy. “The man needs to hear this.”
Billy wheeled his chair towards the console. “Why? What’d they say now?”
Mouse smirked. “Toni Taylor is going to put a hit on her brother.”
Billy’s eyes popped. “Toni’s gonna have Johnny whacked? You’re kidding!”
Mouse laughed. “Nope. I’ve got it on tape. She’s going through Martin Snell to farm it out to someone else.”
Billy shook his head. “I guess Johnny must be singing his head off about now.”
“If he’s not, he will be soon. I’d love to be there when the DA plays this tape for him.”
“Uh – are you sure that’s going to happen?”
“Of course it – oh. You mean, can we find another enterprising young reporter to ‘steal’ the tape from us?”
“The regional director was really mad when he found out about that transcript and those pictures ending up with the Metropolis PD.”
“I can imagine. Well, I guess Johnny Taylor can take his chances. If he sings soon enough, maybe he’ll dodge this bullet too.”
“Sure. How much you want to put down on it?”
“With Snell in the picture? He’ll broker an Intergang killer to take out Johnny and no one will ever know who it was. That’s a sucker bet and we both know it.”
“Yeah.” They were both silent for a long moment, then Mouse asked, “So, do you like the Knicks or the Blazers tomorrow night?”
“How many points?”
*****
Ramona and Shamika sat down at the conference table across from the tall, bespectacled woman, who smiled at them as she sat down. “So, you ladies are from the Mountaintops?”
They nodded. “I’m Ramona Wilcox, the band’s business manager. This is Shamika Jones, our drummer. We didn’t bring Connie Vandross, our guitarist, because we didn’t want dueling Connies.”
Connie Hunter laughed. “Pleased to meet you both. Do you have the authority to retain me as your legal representative, or are you just interviewing me?”
“Ideally,” said Ramona, “we’d like to finalize our agreement right now. We’re expecting a call from someone who’s willing to fund our next album and help us distribute it, and we don’t want to be taken for a ride on the money end.”
Connie Hunter nodded. “That’s certainly understandable. What kind of deal are you looking for with this person?”
“One that provides us with the money to record the album in one single stretch of time, so we don’t have to go back out on the road to support ourselves before we finish it.”
“We don’t wanna get stuck payin’ for this cat’s dry cleanin’, neither,” added Shamika.
Connie smiled. “I understand. This person is going to want his money back on a timely basis, in probably no more than a year, and he’s also going to want a slice of the album revenue and some of your take while you’re touring to support it.”
“Two out of three isn’t bad,” Ramona answered. “It’s right and proper that the investor make a healthy profit on this deal, but we don’t want to cut into our meal money. We’re willing to give up a slightly larger piece of the album revenue pie, but we don’t want anyone touching our tour income. That’s what we live on.”
Connie frowned. “Your investor isn’t going to like that, Ramona. Most of these venture capital agreements tie up the artists’ income for several years.”
“I know, but that’s what all of us have agreed to do. We suggest that we get fifty thousand up front for recording studio expenses, pressing the first run of discs, and our living expenses for two months while we’re in the studio.” Ramona winked at Connie. “Just between you and me and our drummer, I think we can wrap the whole thing for about thirty-five grand, but I’d like to have some wiggle room if we need it.”
“That’s not a bad idea. What else?”
“He also helps us set up a tour to promote the project and distribute the album, whether we open for some big-name band or headline our own shows, and until we repay the principal he gets seventy percent of the profit from the album sales, whether at our shows or in record stores. After that, he gets thirty-five percent until he earns a fifty percent annual yield on his initial investment, figured on a quarterly basis, or three years have passed from the date the agreement is finalized, whichever comes first.”
“Whoa. That’s certainly different.”
“He think we that good, he oughta jump on it like a duck on a junebug.”
“What if he’s looking for a long-term relationship, Shamika?”
“That where Mona got creative. See, if we hit three years and he ain’t made back his money, he ain’t gonna wanna be stuck with us. And if we break out, he make his money back that much faster and we get shut o’ him faster.”
Connie sat back. “If you really want me to present this proposal to him, I will, but I can tell you now that he probably won’t sign off on it. He’s going to want more, like some input on the songs you put on the album, the arrangements – “
“He ain’t getting’ none of that.”
“I’m just telling you what other men like Luthor do when they delve into the music business. He might even try to foist off his girlfriend on you as a new band member.”
Ramona shook her head. “We’ve already told him that we’re not making any lineup changes. And how did you know that Lex Luthor was the money man?”
“Word travels fast in this town. Every musician in the state knows that Luthor has been hunting for a band to bankroll for the last six months or so. And nearly every one of them also knows that he’s been to three or four of your shows at the Metro Club. I saw him there one of those nights.”
Shamika smiled for the first time. “So, you come to hear us? What you think?”
Connie nodded. “You ladies are very good and you have every chance to break into the big time. Musically, at least, I think you’re ready to do just that. Are you ready to take this ride together with me?”
Shamika started to hold out her hand, but Ramona stopped her. “One more thing, Connie. The matter of your retainer.”
Connie nodded again. “I can work with you on a base monthly rate and a small percentage of your net income, say six percent, or I’ll accept a larger percentage – say nine percent – without a base rate. What’s your preference?”
Ramona smiled. “What’s yours?”
Connie tilted her head to one side as if considering her options. “If we’re talking a long-term relationship, say five years or more, I’ll take the nine percent and I’ll act as your booking agent as well. I think you ladies will make me very comfortable at that level. Besides, most agents take ten percent instead of nine.”
“Will you take eight and a quarter?”
“What! Eight and a quarter? No way! I tip better than that!”
“I don’t. How about eight and a half?”
Connie frowned and shook her head. “I feel like I’m arm-wresting an octopus. Nine percent is my cut, Ramona.”
Ramona made eye contact with her and nodded. “Okay. What if we split the difference? You take eight and three quarters.”
Connie hesitated, then laughed. “Sheesh, you drive a hard bargain! Yes, I’ll take eight and three quarter percent of your net profit for five years.”
“Four years, with another four years as an option. Pending the deal with Luthor, of course. For that you get a flat fee, separate from the other money.”
Connie smirked at them. “I’m going to have to watch your backs and my own as well in this relationship. Done and done. I’ll have the paperwork ready tomorrow morning at ten o’clock in my office. I’ll need for all of you to be there.”
“We will be, Ms. Hunter. Just remember that even though we’re disgustingly nice people, we pay off on results, not vain promises. I don’t want to have to write a song about you.”
“You mean in the vein of ‘Zanz Can’t Dance?’ You do know how much legal trouble John Fogarty got into with that tune, don’t you?”
“Yes. But we’re so much more subtle than that, I promise.”
Shamika looked at Ramona. “Can I shake her hand now or you gonna make her sign in blood or somethin’?”
“Go ahead, Sham. I’m just trying to make sure we’re protected from all angles.”
Connie took Shamika’s hand and looked her straight in the eyes. “Protection for you ladies? From me? I think I’m the one in this deal who’s going to have to wear Kevlar underwear.”
*****
Clark picked up his phone after the first ring. “Daily Planet news floor, Clark Kent speaking.”
“Clark? It’s me.”
He forgot the Silent Vigilante story he was working on. “Linda! Where are you? What’s going on?”
“I – I can’t tell you where I am. I’m in protective custody until after the trial. The marshals are letting me call you this one time, but you won’t hear from me again.”
“What? Why not? What are you talking about?”
She sniffed. “I got in too deep, Clark. I was stupid. They were going to charge me alongside Johnny unless I cooperated fully. And when I testify, Johnny will know who I really am and my life won’t be worth a dime.”
“But – “ His protests fell flat, even to his own mind. She was right. He didn’t say anything else, and she was silent, too.
He listened to her breathe for a few moments, then asked, “Linda? Why are you calling me?”
“To say – to say goodbye. I’m sorry I was so terrible to you.”
“What? What do you mean, goodbye? Where are you going?”
She sniffed again. “The Federal witness protection program. I’m going to be someone else in a few months and be somewhere else. I doubt that I’ll ever see you again.”
He was stunned again. “Witness protection? Linda, maybe you – “
“It’s part of the plea deal, Clark. After I testify I disappear. Johnny won’t be able to find me. I don’t even know where I’m going or what my name will be. I’m supposed to testify in the Miami trial, too, against Carlos and Juan. Wait, you don’t know about them. They’re Johnny’s connection in Miami. And if I don’t do this whole thing the way the cops tell me to do it, they’ll charge me and put me in prison.”
“I – I’m sorry.”
She sighed deeply. “I’m sorry too. But maybe this is for the best. These last few weeks, I haven’t liked myself very much. I think that’s why I was coming on to you so hard, to try to prove to you, to myself, to somebody, that I wasn’t such a terrible person. Trouble is, I really was a terrible person.”
“You weren’t terrible, Linda.”
She almost laughed. “Only ‘not terrible?’ That’s a left-handed character reference if I ever heard one. Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful life. You’re already a fantastic reporter and I know you’ll only get better. Oh, and please tell Perry that I’m grateful for the opportunities he gave me. I’m only sorry that I didn’t do more with them.”
“I will.” There was an awkward pause, then he said, “Well, I need to get back to work. I’ll talk to – no, I guess I won’t talk to you later.”
“No, you won’t. This is goodbye. Take care, Clark. And I hope you find someone who really loves you. You deserve it.”
Wow, he thought. Maybe this is ultimately a good thing for her. “Thanks, Linda. You do something positive with the rest of your life.”
“I’ll try. You keep fighting the good fight. Goodbye, Clark.”
He tried to find something else to say, but he couldn’t. “Goodbye, Linda.”
She ended the call. Clark held the phone until the dial tone sounded, then he hung up.
Linda was gone from his life forever. Oh, he could probably find her if he really wanted to, but he knew he wouldn’t try. It was a mild shock to know that she’d never lean over him at work or rub his shoulders whether he wanted her to or not, that she’d never flirt with him again in a meeting or touch him on the leg when they were going over notes. He wondered how long he would look over his shoulder for her.
Linda was gone. What a relief.
*****
Lois sat in the chair outside the police conference room and waited. She didn’t understand why Lucy and her lawyer had to come in to talk to the police again. She didn’t understand why she had to come in and talk to them, either. Johnny Taylor was in jail for killing Christie Baldwin, among other reasons, and George McDermott had been arrested too. He’d suffered a mild concussion when Clark had knocked him down, something that Lois was sure Clark hadn’t meant to happen, but as soon as he got out of the hospital he would join his boss behind bars.
And why Lucy was still involved was beyond Lois. Neither of them should have been where they were. Lois, at least, should have been enjoying a meal with Clark, but no, the girls in the band had kept her busy day and night with legal details and working out new arrangements and trying to write some new songs for the upcoming album, and she was frustrated at being kept away from Clark. Ramona had arranged for them to begin their gig in Gotham City a week early, they were scheduled to leave in two days, and she and Clark still hadn’t had any real time together.
Oh, they’d eaten a picnic lunch in Centennial Park when Clark had momentarily escaped the office the day before, but between wrapping up his own investigation at the club and his work at the paper, he hadn’t had much time either. And she could tell that it bothered him every time one of them had to call off a dinner or a lunch or even an afternoon snack. It was almost as if the universe were conspiring to keep them apart. Of course, that only made her more determined to see him again.
The opening door took her away from those bleak thoughts as her sister walked out of the conference room and spotted her. “Lois! Good, you’re right here. I’m all done, free and clear. Clark sure helped clear that up with that evidence he brought over. Come on. Inspector Henderson is ready for you.”
Lois stood and looked around. “Where’s your lawyer?”
“She’s waiting for you in there. She’s agreed to assist you since it’s no longer a criminal investigation.”
“I don’t need a lawyer. We went over this – “
Lucy cut her off. “Lois. Go in there now. Sit down. Listen to Angela. Talk when she says to talk. Shut up when she says to shut up. Sign what she says to sign.”
Lois looked at her suddenly assertive sister and shook her head. “Wow. What did you have for breakfast this morning?”
“A dose of common sense.” Lucy took her sister’s arm and pushed her towards the door. “You know the saying that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander?”
“Yeah, but – “
“Then just do what I tell you to do and you’ll be fine.”
Lois stopped and almost laughed. “You sound like me.”
“Really? I guess I’ve heard it often enough from you.” She pointed at the open doorway. “Now get in there and behave yourself. I’ll be out here waiting for you.”
Lois smiled. “Okay, Punky.” Then she stepped back and looked her sister up and down. “You know,” she continued thoughtfully, “you have really grown up.”
Lucy fixed her with a hooded glare and pointed. “Go.”
Lois smiled wider and surrendered to the inevitable.
*****
Lucy lay back on the hotel bed and smiled at the ceiling. Despite all the trouble they’d had on this gig, things had turned out well. They were leaving in the morning for an extended stay in Gotham City, they’d found a source of money and a distribution network for a new album of original tunes, there were good prospects for a late winter and spring tour opening for a major act, and best of all, Lucy was free and clear from the law.
She hadn’t admitted it to anyone, not even her sister, but she’d been terrified that someone would stand up in the police station and shout, “There she is! That’s the woman who killed Christie Baldwin!” Then she’d be arrested, booked, processed, strip-searched, given an ugly jumpsuit to wear, pushed into a cell and locked in –
She shuddered and shook her head. That was over and done with. Things were going well and she refused to jinx herself. No more murder accusations for her, that was for certain.
She heard the toilet flush in the small bathroom and sighed. Everything was going well except for her sister.
Lois opened the bathroom door and shuffled to the other bed. She sat on the end and stared at the wall.
This couldn’t continue.
“Lois? Hey, it’s still early. What do you say to a pizza?”
There was no response. “Come on, Sis! What do you say?”
Lois moved her head slightly. “Is that a question or a riddle?”
“What? Oh, right. No, just a question.” Lucy moved to her sister’s side. “Come on! We’ll eat too much and tell bad jokes until the soda squirts out our noses! It’ll be like old times!”
Lois slowly patted Lucy’s hand. “I know what you’re trying to do, Punky, and I appreciate it. But I don’t feel like it. Not tonight.”
“Okay. What do you feel like? I’m sure the hotel has some board games. Or I can go get Scrabble out of the bus.” Lois withdrew her hand. “Come on, Sis! You love making up those words in Scrabble! Remember when you tried to use ‘chumpy’ to get a triple word score?”
Lois smiled ever so slightly. “Thanks, Luce, but I’m just going to lie down and sleep. I’m so very tired.”
Lucy sighed and nodded. “It’s Clark, isn’t it?” Lois went still at the mention of his name. “You’re really hung up on him, aren’t you?”
Lois looked away. “Yeah,” she breathed. “I am.”
“Uh-huh. How hung up on you is he?”
Lois shrugged. “About the same, I think.” She chuckled for a moment. “I hope.” Then she sniffed once. “No, I don’t hope that. I’d hate to think that he was hurting as – as much as I am.”
Lucy reached out and hugged her big sister. Lois leaned into Lucy and started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, Sis, it’s okay.”
“No,” sobbed Lois, “it’s not okay.”
Lucy stroked Lois’ hair. “Then it will be. I promise.”
They sat together, rocking gently back and forth, until Lois’ tears subsided. She wiped her eyes with her hand and tried to smile. “I used to – to do this with you. After Dad – after Dad died. I’d hold you and rock you and tell you that everything was okay.”
Lucy kissed Lois on the forehead. “I remember. And when I said it wasn’t okay, you’d tell me that even if it wasn’t okay now, it would be. And you know what? You kept your word.” Lucy hugged her sister close. “You’ve always kept your word, Sis. And I’ve always trusted you. Will you trust me now?”
Lois returned the embrace and nodded against Lucy’s shoulder. “Yes. I’ll trust you.” She sat up and smiled through her tears. “But only because I’ve taught you so very well.”
They shared a soft laugh, then Lois exhaled and almost collapsed in on herself. “I’m really wiped out, Punky. I think I’d better go to bed while I can still find the pillows.”
“No problem. I’ll take care of everything tomorrow. You just show up at the bus on time.”
Lois cupped her sister’s face with her hand. “I’ll be fine. Because you’re taking such good care of me.” She sighed. “My little sister really is growing up. Before long, you won’t need me any more.”
Lucy smiled and shook her head. “I’ll never be quite that grown up, Lois. We’ll always need each other. Right now, though, you need to get some sleep.”
“You talked me into it.” Lois leaned back and let Lucy pull the covers up to her chin. “Goodnight, Luce.”
Lucy snapped off the reading lamp above Lois’ bed. “Sweet dreams, Sis. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Lucy waited until Lois began her patented ladylike snores, then she slipped out the door and closed it as quietly as she could. Then she marched to the band’s other room and knocked on the door.
Ramona opened up and leaned out. “Hi, Lucy. How’s our favorite bass player?”
Lucy shook her head. “Not so good. She’s having a rough time right now.”
The keyboardist sighed. “I wish there was something we could do for her.”
Lucy’s eyebrow rose and an evil grin spread across her face. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. Do you and the other two reprobates in there want to have dinner with me and then make an unannounced nocturnal visit to a certain reporter who’s gotten so far under Lois’ skin it’ll take surgery to get him out?”
“What? Why do you – oh, no, Lucy, you don’t mean want us to – “
“No!” Lucy raised her hands in surrender. “I don’t want to beat him up! I just want him to get something resolved with Lois. I don’t want her pining for him for the next fifteen thousand miles.”
“Really? You really want to do this? Right now?”
“Well, yeah, since we’re leaving tomorrow morning and I don’t see him flying after us everywhere we go. Somebody has to make a decision tonight.”
Ramona’s eyes rolled up in her head. “You still don’t do things the easy way, do you?”
“Why should I? This way’s more fun.”
“Great,” sighed Ramona. “As if I don’t have enough fun in my life as it is.”
