last drop of blood out of
your dead fucking corpse.”
Her burning eyes took on a reddish hint as she glowered at
me. I returned it with a cold glint and smiled. “Then I guess we’ll use the
handcuffs.”
Chapter Six
Joey
The hours passed and Angelica hadn’t returned my calls.
Where the fuck was she?
I’d called her again, even went by her apartment. She lived
in a crappy high-rise apartment over a pizza place on Commonwealth Avenue. Mike
and I lived in a three-family not too far away, but I didn’t dare tell him how
I was looking for her. He’d tell me I was stalking her and I’d better back off
before she got pissed and quit the band.
When Angelica didn’t answer her door, I drove down to the
Boston Police Department’s Allston-Brighton branch on Washington Street and
parked on the main road. What would I even say to them? It hadn’t been
twenty-four hours so they’d most likely tell me not enough time had passed. And
if she found out I’d filed a missing person report, I pictured her flipping
out.
Putting half a dozen quarters in the parking meter, I walked
down Washington Street, trying to figure out what to do.
A private investigator maybe?
Yes, I felt foolish and perhaps I was overreacting, but I
couldn’t just sit around waiting for Angelica to call me. If she was even able
to call. Something about the whole situation left me uncomfortable and I
worried about her. If I hadn’t seen that guy in the club drive off alone, I
would have thought he was involved.
I used my smartphone to locate a local private investigator.
After I explained the situation, he said he’d meet me at a coffee shop on
Washington Street in half an hour.
As I walked down to the coffee shop, my thoughts were
consumed with Angelica. I first saw her at a show in Boston. A local hardcore
band who were big in the nineties played a reunion show. Most of the crowd
consisted of guys in their thirties and forties who remembered the band back
when they first toured. Then there was the younger crowd who were too young at
the time to know who the band was, but were interested in seeing what they
considered a Boston rock ’n ‘ roll “classic”.
In walked a petite woman wearing a black dress and high
black boots as if trying to deceive people to think she was much taller. She
stayed in the back of the club as if avoiding attention. Her hair was a natural
chestnut color back then with her makeup very subdued, if she wore any at all.
Although she stayed in the shadows and away from the
spotlights at the front of the stage, I noticed her right away. I walked away
from the guys to approach her.
“Hi. Can I get you a drink?” I asked.
Her eyes darted around the room as her body tensed, but then
she relaxed and flashed a warm smile. “Sure. Thanks.”
“I’m Joey.”
“Angelica.”
As we spoke over a beer, I told her about Bloodlust Diamond.
Most girls who came to these clubs were into guys who were in a band. Angelica
wasn’t as impressed as I thought she’d be. Instead she focused on the part
where I told her we needed a new lead singer. Although the idea of female lead
singer threw me off at first, she convinced me to let her audition for the
role.
I left with her number that night, only not for the reason I
had been hoping for.
The guys were skeptical at first, but during the audition we
all saw something. Angelica and I had chemistry. Something we could play up
onstage. It was a different vibe from having all guys in the band, but we all
thought there was something there we had to try out. When I asked Angelica to
join Bloodlust Diamond, she was thrilled.
“Only one thing though,” she said. “I’m a very private
person. Please don’t ask me many personal questions.”
This would raise a red flag for anyone and I was no
different.
“O-kay,” I said. “You do realize that when you’re in a band,
you’re stuck together for long periods at a time. There’s practice and
rehearsals and working together
your dead fucking corpse.”
Her burning eyes took on a reddish hint as she glowered at
me. I returned it with a cold glint and smiled. “Then I guess we’ll use the
handcuffs.”
Chapter Six
Joey
The hours passed and Angelica hadn’t returned my calls.
Where the fuck was she?
I’d called her again, even went by her apartment. She lived
in a crappy high-rise apartment over a pizza place on Commonwealth Avenue. Mike
and I lived in a three-family not too far away, but I didn’t dare tell him how
I was looking for her. He’d tell me I was stalking her and I’d better back off
before she got pissed and quit the band.
When Angelica didn’t answer her door, I drove down to the
Boston Police Department’s Allston-Brighton branch on Washington Street and
parked on the main road. What would I even say to them? It hadn’t been
twenty-four hours so they’d most likely tell me not enough time had passed. And
if she found out I’d filed a missing person report, I pictured her flipping
out.
Putting half a dozen quarters in the parking meter, I walked
down Washington Street, trying to figure out what to do.
A private investigator maybe?
Yes, I felt foolish and perhaps I was overreacting, but I
couldn’t just sit around waiting for Angelica to call me. If she was even able
to call. Something about the whole situation left me uncomfortable and I
worried about her. If I hadn’t seen that guy in the club drive off alone, I
would have thought he was involved.
I used my smartphone to locate a local private investigator.
After I explained the situation, he said he’d meet me at a coffee shop on
Washington Street in half an hour.
As I walked down to the coffee shop, my thoughts were
consumed with Angelica. I first saw her at a show in Boston. A local hardcore
band who were big in the nineties played a reunion show. Most of the crowd
consisted of guys in their thirties and forties who remembered the band back
when they first toured. Then there was the younger crowd who were too young at
the time to know who the band was, but were interested in seeing what they
considered a Boston rock ’n ‘ roll “classic”.
In walked a petite woman wearing a black dress and high
black boots as if trying to deceive people to think she was much taller. She
stayed in the back of the club as if avoiding attention. Her hair was a natural
chestnut color back then with her makeup very subdued, if she wore any at all.
Although she stayed in the shadows and away from the
spotlights at the front of the stage, I noticed her right away. I walked away
from the guys to approach her.
“Hi. Can I get you a drink?” I asked.
Her eyes darted around the room as her body tensed, but then
she relaxed and flashed a warm smile. “Sure. Thanks.”
“I’m Joey.”
“Angelica.”
As we spoke over a beer, I told her about Bloodlust Diamond.
Most girls who came to these clubs were into guys who were in a band. Angelica
wasn’t as impressed as I thought she’d be. Instead she focused on the part
where I told her we needed a new lead singer. Although the idea of female lead
singer threw me off at first, she convinced me to let her audition for the
role.
I left with her number that night, only not for the reason I
had been hoping for.
The guys were skeptical at first, but during the audition we
all saw something. Angelica and I had chemistry. Something we could play up
onstage. It was a different vibe from having all guys in the band, but we all
thought there was something there we had to try out. When I asked Angelica to
join Bloodlust Diamond, she was thrilled.
“Only one thing though,” she said. “I’m a very private
person. Please don’t ask me many personal questions.”
This would raise a red flag for anyone and I was no
different.
“O-kay,” I said. “You do realize that when you’re in a band,
you’re stuck together for long periods at a time. There’s practice and
rehearsals and working together
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