eyes fixed on some distant, unseen memory. “I don’t feel well. I have to go lie down.”
Parker swallowed, wishing she could get more out of her. “But if you could think of a name to give the police, they could arrest him.”
Tiffany got off of the bed and locked into Parker’s gaze. “It could have been anyone. It could even have been you.”
All eyes turned to her, inquisitive, accusing.
Horrified, Parker brought her hand to her chest. “It wasn’t,” she whispered. “You don’t think I—”
“Of course not, sweetie.” Tiffany touched Parker’s face. “Thank you for coming. Give my apologies.” Then she wandered down the hall and vanished into another room.
Brenna’s friends were quiet as they went back downstairs. Parker didn’t have the stomach for any more snooping. As the others headed back to the sun room, Parker stepped out the front door, glad for fresh air. She hurried out to her car and pulled out of the line of parked cars. Trembling, she powered on her cell phone and dialed Gibson’s number.
He was quick to answer. “Hey, Sis. Whatcha got?”
“I was just at the Evanses’ house,” she said, “and I heard this weird conversation. Her father was talking to these guys. Promoters, I think. Nathan told them that he didn’t think Brenna’s death was random, that someone killed her purposely because of him.”
Gibson was quiet for a moment. “What else did you hear?”
She related her conversation with Tiffany.
“I don’t like this,” Gibson said. “That she suggested the murderer could’ve been you. Brenna’s friends will be talking. That’ll get all over town.”
“She didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’ll take on a life of its own.”
“Well, should I be concerned? Is someone going to show up and handcuff me?”
“No. You have an alibi and no motive … and a brother working on the case. But Parker, you’ve got to stay away from the investigation. Don’t go near those people anymore.” He paused, clearly waiting for her to agree. “Parker, do you hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you.”
“This is not sister-brother stuff, Parker. This is police business. Your getting more involved could cost me the case, and maybe even my job. And worse, it could enable the killer to get away with it. You got that?”
“Yes, I’ve got it. Well, one good thing. If Tiffany and Nathan are right, the killer didn’t intend to kill me. I’ll feel safer.”
“Good,” he said. “So go home and work on your songs. And call Serene. She’s been calling everybody in the family, trying to reach you. She has good news. She’s about to hit the big time.”
Good news was relative. But Parker would have to talk to Serene. It wasn’t fair to put her friend off any longer.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Serene’s “Double Minds” photo shoot took place the next day at the Parthenon in Centennial Park, close to Parker’s house. It was a popular park where people jogged or walked their dogs, where nearby college students studied on blankets on the grass. The building was modeled after the Greek original in Athens, and it was a common place for Nashville stars to be photographed.
Parker found the photo crew on the front steps. The location was clichéd, if you asked her. She’d suggested to Serene that she try someplace different, but Serene was in a hurry to get the cover of her album done. Sometimes Parker wondered if she was the only creative person on Serene’s team.
She strolled toward them, her fake Uggs squishing in the damp earth. A small crowd had formed a perimeter around Serene as she posed with wind blowing her long blonde hair—courtesy of a couple of fans provided by the photographer. Her band members stood off to the side, unshaven and artistically disheveled. Daniel Walker, the youth minister she’d been playing for the night of Brenna’s murder, was clean-shaven, but someone had moussed and tousled his hair, as if that would complete his transition
Parker swallowed, wishing she could get more out of her. “But if you could think of a name to give the police, they could arrest him.”
Tiffany got off of the bed and locked into Parker’s gaze. “It could have been anyone. It could even have been you.”
All eyes turned to her, inquisitive, accusing.
Horrified, Parker brought her hand to her chest. “It wasn’t,” she whispered. “You don’t think I—”
“Of course not, sweetie.” Tiffany touched Parker’s face. “Thank you for coming. Give my apologies.” Then she wandered down the hall and vanished into another room.
Brenna’s friends were quiet as they went back downstairs. Parker didn’t have the stomach for any more snooping. As the others headed back to the sun room, Parker stepped out the front door, glad for fresh air. She hurried out to her car and pulled out of the line of parked cars. Trembling, she powered on her cell phone and dialed Gibson’s number.
He was quick to answer. “Hey, Sis. Whatcha got?”
“I was just at the Evanses’ house,” she said, “and I heard this weird conversation. Her father was talking to these guys. Promoters, I think. Nathan told them that he didn’t think Brenna’s death was random, that someone killed her purposely because of him.”
Gibson was quiet for a moment. “What else did you hear?”
She related her conversation with Tiffany.
“I don’t like this,” Gibson said. “That she suggested the murderer could’ve been you. Brenna’s friends will be talking. That’ll get all over town.”
“She didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’ll take on a life of its own.”
“Well, should I be concerned? Is someone going to show up and handcuff me?”
“No. You have an alibi and no motive … and a brother working on the case. But Parker, you’ve got to stay away from the investigation. Don’t go near those people anymore.” He paused, clearly waiting for her to agree. “Parker, do you hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you.”
“This is not sister-brother stuff, Parker. This is police business. Your getting more involved could cost me the case, and maybe even my job. And worse, it could enable the killer to get away with it. You got that?”
“Yes, I’ve got it. Well, one good thing. If Tiffany and Nathan are right, the killer didn’t intend to kill me. I’ll feel safer.”
“Good,” he said. “So go home and work on your songs. And call Serene. She’s been calling everybody in the family, trying to reach you. She has good news. She’s about to hit the big time.”
Good news was relative. But Parker would have to talk to Serene. It wasn’t fair to put her friend off any longer.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Serene’s “Double Minds” photo shoot took place the next day at the Parthenon in Centennial Park, close to Parker’s house. It was a popular park where people jogged or walked their dogs, where nearby college students studied on blankets on the grass. The building was modeled after the Greek original in Athens, and it was a common place for Nashville stars to be photographed.
Parker found the photo crew on the front steps. The location was clichéd, if you asked her. She’d suggested to Serene that she try someplace different, but Serene was in a hurry to get the cover of her album done. Sometimes Parker wondered if she was the only creative person on Serene’s team.
She strolled toward them, her fake Uggs squishing in the damp earth. A small crowd had formed a perimeter around Serene as she posed with wind blowing her long blonde hair—courtesy of a couple of fans provided by the photographer. Her band members stood off to the side, unshaven and artistically disheveled. Daniel Walker, the youth minister she’d been playing for the night of Brenna’s murder, was clean-shaven, but someone had moussed and tousled his hair, as if that would complete his transition
Similar Books
