Nobody Knows by Mary Jane Clark Page B

I would talk to you first. I told him to come back tomorrow. I can have the police waiting for him then.” Sebastien looked at his companion.
    “Have you called the police already?”
    “No. I wanted to see how you wanted to handle this. I didn’t know if you wanted the police to be involved since you bought the ring for her.”
    “Let me think about it, will you, Leslie? I’ll let you know before we leave tonight.”
    IT WAS not the usual frenzied screaming that greeted the Boys Next Door as they ran out and took their places on the specially erected platform on the front lawn of Cà d’Zan, but the guests did applaud heartily.
    “Hello, Sarasota,” called Sarge Tucker into his microphone. “The Boys Next Door are honored to be here tonight to support the various wonderful charities in this, my beloved, hometown. Thank you, ladies and gents.”
    There was more enthusiastic applause as Sarge continued. “We have a special treat tonight. The boys are going to play, for the very first time before an audience, their new single—a song that is destined for the top of the charts. So, everybody, without further ado, I present to you the Boys Next Door and ‘Nobody Knows.’ ”
    The group bounded up to the stage, music blasting from the amplifiers placed strategically around the mansion grounds, as Sarge Tucker, gold chains flapping, jogged off the stage. “Nobody Knows” seemed to Cassie to be similar to the other Boys Next Door songs she had heard repeatedly blaring from Hannah’s boom box. They had annoyed her then. Now she would give anything to be upstairs in the Alexandria house again, trying to block out the loud music.
    “Don’t look so enthused,” shouted a voice in her ear. It was Sarge Tucker, smiling and holding out a glossy eight-by-ten. “For your daughter,” he offered. “I hope that’s how Hannah spells her name.”
    “Oh, yes, she’ll be so thrilled. Thank you.” She arranged a pleasant expression on her face and took the autographed picture from him, feeling somewhat guilty. Cassie doubted he would be so friendly if he realized that the video they had taken tonight wouldn’t air on KEY News.
    The promoter held out his business card. “Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
    Cassie politely tucked the card into her purse.

    SHE WAS going to call a taxi. Let Leroy and Felix stay as long as they cared to. She wanted to get out of here, go back to the hotel and go to bed. Too bad her heart wasn’t into socializing. There were some very handsome men at this party, she thought as she stared at a particularly good-looking man, dashing in his tuxedo. As if he felt her eyes on him, he turned and lifted his champagne glass in a gentle salute.
    Embarrassed, Cassie walked back to the bar on the terrace. Pulling her cell phone from her purse, she called information and scribbled the cab company’s number on a cocktail napkin. Her next call told her that it would be twenty minutes before a car could pick her up. She asked the bartender for another glass of Merlot while she waited.
    As she sipped the wine by herself, she couldn’t help but listen to the loud conversation of the threesome that stood beside her.
    “My God, that was Merilee’s song,” said the woman in the gold lamé gown. “I
know
that was it. If she was here, she’d be steaming.”
    “What do you mean, that was Merilee’s song?” asked the swarthy tuxedo standing next to the gold lamé.
    “She wrote that song, Van. I know. Merilee played ‘Nobody Knows’ for me months ago. Haven’t you noticed how she’s always working on her music between takes?”
    The swarthy one shrugged. “I never paid much attention.”
    The woman turned to the other man. “Can’t you do something about it, Webb? It’s not fair. Merilee wrote that song, and now the Boys Next Door are going to make a fortune on it.”
    “Merilee’s a big girl, Gloria. If there’s a battle to be fought, she can fight it on her own. She doesn’t