Late on Monday night, the call that they had all been dreading finally came through. A heartbroken Maria called Jake just after eleven to say that Rich’s body had been found and brought down from the mountain. She became quite hysterical as she revealed that his body had been attacked by what the park rangers assumed was a bear. Trying to calm her down, Jake had asked if the bear attack had been what had killed him but Maria said no. Tearfully, she had explained that the rescue team had found signs of drug use and two empty bourbon bottles beside him. There would be an autopsy but all the signs pointed to drug-induced suicide.
Hating the thought of her facing things alone, Jake offered to drive out to join her but Maria declined, saying Jethro was already on his way. She promised to call Jake as soon as there was any other news then tearfully ended the call.
Her words echoed round in Jake’s head as he stood in the sunroom. Tears burning in his eyes and emotion choking his throat, Jake walked across to the open patio doors and stepped out onto the candlelit deck. Hearing him approach, Lori looked up expectantly.
Staring into her blue eyes, unable to speak, Jake shook his head.
“No!” gasped Lori, feeling the colour drain from her tanned cheeks,
Jake nodded, “That was Maria. They brought his body down from the mountain a few hours ago.”
“Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry,” sobbed Lori as she stumbled to her feet.
Wrapped in each other’s arms, they both sobbed, their grief raw and their tears flowing unbidden. Feeling the need to protect her, Jake drew Lori closer to him, allowing her to weep into his chest.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” she whispered sadly.
“Me neither,” said Jake. “Feels like I failed him. Like we all failed him.”
“Do the others know?”
“No idea. I’d best call them, I guess,” answered Jake. “What do I say to them, Lori? How do I break this to them?”
In his pocket, his phone vibrated twice. Hauling it out, he read the messages.
“Jethro’s told them,” he said plainly. “They’re both on their way over here.”
Nodding, Lori acknowledged, “You guys need to be together.”
Half an hour later, Grey was the first to arrive at the beach house. Having spotted the light from the sun deck from the driveway, he came around the side of the house. When he stepped onto the deck, he reached out to embrace Jake before he uttered a sound. The two bandmates held each other in mutual grief-stricken silence. Eventually, Grey broke the bear hug and turned to Lori.
“You ok?” she asked softly, seeing the unshed tears in his eyes.
“I’ve no idea how I feel,” confessed the bass player. “It feels surreal. Like it’s not really happening.”
“I know,” sighed Jake. “I’ve felt like that since they found his car last Friday. Keep thinking if we missed any clues. Could we have done more for him?”
“Don’t,” said Lori firmly. “You can’t tear yourselves apart trying to find clues or reasons. Trust me on that. You need to be strong for each other.”
“Lori, we all saw the signs,” began Grey.
“And, in your own way, I’m sure all three of you reached out to him. All of you tried to help him.”
“Yeah,” nodded Jake. “We did but could we have done more?”
“Probably not,” conceded Grey wearily. “How many times did we all try? How many times did he push us away? He’s been on self-destruct for a while.”
“I guess,” sighed Jake resignedly as they all heard the gravel scrunch at the front of the house. “Sounds like Paul.”
A moment or two later, a pale, emotional Paul appeared beside them on the sun deck. Discretely, Lori retreated indoors, leaving the three bandmates to grieve together. Quietly, she made her way down the hallway to check on the kids. Both of them were sleeping soundly, oblivious to the sadness filling the house. Closing their doors over, Lori returned to the kitchen, drew over the door to the hallway, then stood silently debating what to do. She opened the refrigerator, lifted out two six-packs of beer then headed back out to the deck.
Just as she reached the patio doors, she met Jake coming in.
“Great minds,” he said with a warm smile. “I was just coming indoors to fetch these. You joining us, li’l lady?”
“I don’t want to intrude,” began Lori.
“Don’t be crazy. We’re all in this together. You were always close to him. Rich would’ve laid down his life for you. All of us would.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Sure.”
When the beers were done, Jake went indoors to fetch a bottle of Jack Daniels and some glasses. He poured them all a generous shot then said, “To Rich having found peace and to him having made his peace with Gary.”
“To those we’ve loved and lost,” said Paul, his voice cracking anew as a fresh wave of grief hit him.
“Absent friends,” added Lori softly.
Gradually, the bourbon warmed their hearts and loosened their tongues and, by the time Lori crept off to bed sometime around 3 am, the three members of Silver Lake were reminiscing about past shows, past pranks and about the good times.
Sun was filtering through the voile drapes when Lori opened her eyes. Beside her, the bed was empty. Jake’s side hadn’t been slept in. A glance at her cell phone told her it was after eight and she was surprised there was no sign of her early rising children. As she sat up,
