I try to concentrate on the next song we’re singing, but my feelings get muddled with the words, and the music, and the new dark energy that fills the room.
And scopaesthesia is back.
I know they’re watching.
Chapter 25
Do you enjoy the hunt,
evoking terror in your prey?
As we finish our last set, the crowd goes wild with noise. The energy doesn’t die off without the music. I glance off to the side stage where we’ll be led back to the green room and flashes of the night prior come flooding back. Hands reaching out, grabbing at me.
Will they be waiting there—the one watching me? Will they reach out and finally get me this time?
The heavy weight in the pit of my stomach is interrupted as Lucie grabs my hand and we link arms, walking off the stage and toward the doors with the rest of the band following us. Two security guards meet us off stage and flank us, walking to the door as the crowd edges closer.
“Lynda!” Someone calls.
I turn, squinting through the strobe lights at the crowd.
The announcer begins to introduce Midnight Voices, and I can’t hear where the calling came from. Was that Taylor?
Once the door closes after us, echoes of our footsteps remain, plodding down the hallway ramp, until we turn into the green room.
“That was amazing!” Mika stands and wraps her arm around Lucie. “Jamie says Midnight Voices are running late, so I went out and heard some of it. Lynda, I loved your song!”
“Lyn, that was beautiful,” Lucie says.
“So well done.” Jamie rests his hands on his hips. “You’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”
Cline cracks open two beers and passes one to Royal, then waves me to the corner.
I cast a worried glance at Stokes, but he’s talking to Royal, so I join Cline in the corner of the room.
“Check your phone,” he says. “Has he called you?”
I grab my bag and check.
One missed call. I tap on it and Cline is hanging over my shoulder, reading the word Mom.
“No, he didn’t,” I tell him.
I won’t tell him I saw Taylor here. I won’t be responsible for what happens if Cline unleashes on him. And Taylor implicated Cline was the last to see Pascha and the band agreed they were heated that night, so his account of their arguing makes sense, too.
Cline checks his own phone and holds it up. “Missed call from the Sterling Heights police department.” He raises his voice. “Anybody else?”
“Yeah,” Stokes says.
Royal and Lucie both shake their heads.
“So, what was the date, the night we all last saw Pascha?” Stokes asks.
Jamie speaks up. “October twenty-first. I had to check to confirm it already when I spoke to the police.”
“So, the last time we all saw her was in the parking lot that night, after the fight…” Stokes turns to Cline. “After you fought, she wouldn’t speak to any of us. Royal tried to get her to calm down, and Lucie, you tried to get her to leave with you and Mika, but she ran off. Cline, you followed her to the parking lot, and I came soon after, but she was already gone.”
Cline nods. “I had to stop chasing her.”
“Did you?” I ask. Cline turns to me with a slight frown. “You know she went to Taylor’s after.”
“Yeah, because of the ride app. I already told you.” Cline shakes his head as if to ask, what of it?
“I’m sorry, man,” Jamie says. “I didn’t know you knew about them.”
“There was nothing to know.” Cline shakes his head. “He was her dealer. Nothing else was going on.”
“Dealer.” Jamie purses his lips. “Oh.”
Do I want to get involved in this? Do I want to tell them what Taylor told me? Should I tell the police what I know? It’ll make Taylor a suspect…
“…thought it was at our place, in the guest house,” Mika tells Lucie.
Lucie shakes her head. “No, she left that night, and we all stayed here for drinks after.”
“Everybody was here after she left that night?” I ask.
They nod.
Mika frowns.
“What?” Lucie asks.
“I thought you guys all came back and jammed in the guest house?” Mika frowns and turns to Royal. “Your blue van was parked on the street out front. The light was on in the guest house for hours, until I went to bed. I couldn’t hear anything. It’s soundproofed, but…” —she turns to Lucie— “you came in after a few hours and I was already in bed. Remember?”
“Yeah,” Lucie says slowly. “I got home from the bar late. We weren’t practicing in the guest house.”
“My van wasn’t at your place that night.” Royal takes off his mask. “I was here with everybody.”
Stokes nods, but Cline frowns at him.
“You were the first to leave, weren’t you?” Cline asks.
Royal shrugs with wide eyes. “I can’t remember. We all drank a lot.”
“I spoke to Taylor tonight,” I say, and Cline looks at me with confusion that changes to anger, his jaw clenched as I speak. “He told me when Pascha came, she scored, and then when she left someone picked her up. He heard them out the window. The guy he heard said he was sorry for what was happening and that he loved her. He thought it was you.” I nod to Cline whose eyes bulge at the thought. “But” —I turn to Royal— “he didn’t know. He never saw who it was. He said it was the guy in the band she was with…”
Royal shakes his head and puts his beer on the little table in the middle of the group. “I didn’t want to tell you guys. She told me not to say anything.”
“Tell us what?” Cline asks with a dangerous edge to his tone.
“She called me and asked me to pick her up from that dealer’s place. I came, tried to apologize to her—”
“For me. You were apologizing she had to deal with me.” Cline raises his voice. “And you were telling her
