Jake had found the true light. He’d battled hard, he’d tortured his parents and others who had loved him, but he’d proved himself in the end.
And then he’d died, determined that he would do what was right for others.
They were doing a sound check, just a sound check, and yet when Sky finished, there was silence in the room. Then applause.
Applause...
Except Chase noticed Justin. He wasn’t applauding. He was staring at Sky. Staring at her...as if something inside of him was broken and burning as well.
He felt his phone buzz.
He glanced down.
Dark web encrypted but the source—here.
He closed his phone and looked at Justin again. He had to get the man alone.
Chapter Eight
Sky found herself chatting with Joe about the songs, and then Mark about their set lists. Chris joined them as well, telling her that the full rehearsal with her the night before had been like speeding back through the years to a beautiful time.
“You, Brandon, Chase...having you guys here is incredible,” he told her, smiling. He grimaced. “You kind of, hmm...what are the words I’m looking for? Make everything perfect. We were good from the beginning—your dad made us good musicians, and he kept us all together as friends. I mean, a lot of the old groups are still playing, but most have new members in them somewhere. Folks like us, from the seventies and eighties...we lost a lot of amazing artists. Janis Joplin, Elvis, Michael Jackson, Prince, so very many...and then, hey, you get where we are and there are deaths from natural causes, too. But think of the groups and performers still out there—Bruce Springsteen, Elton John, Billy Joel—your dad loved all of them, said they were real songsters! ‘Piano Man,’ Billy Joel, one of his favorites. The Eagles! So many more. But with us...your dad is gone and Hank is recovering, but we have family members! True legacy.”
“Thanks, Chris,” she told him. “It’s great fun to be with Brandon, too.”
“Yep, the boy is coming along nicely. But...” He shrugged.
“What?” Sky asked him.
“Thing is, being us has been great. We made money, and your dad was the guy who led us. We were so young, but we never went crazy. He got us the right management and the right financial advisers. Thing is, as much as I’ve loved being Skyhawk, what I want to leave behind is hard to explain.”
Brandon walked up, joining them. “You’re not going anywhere for a long time!” he told his father sternly.
“Not planning to,” Chris assured him, “but none of us ever really knows. I don’t know how to express it, but I’m so glad, so damned glad, you three younger people are with us—but what I hope we leave behind is something that isn’t performing in front of a crowd or getting a good paycheck. It can’t really be touched. It’s just the love of music, what music can do when you’re down, how it can help bring you back up, how... Wow. I just sound weird—”
“Nothing new there!” Brandon teased.
“Hey! Careful, I’ll ground you!” Chris teased in return. He ran his fingers through his hair and then paused. “Like this stuff on my head. It’s white—”
“Ah, but still there! You still look like a great rocker!” Sky assured him.
He laughed softly. “Like I said, it’s just darned great that there are a bunch of us still out there—some of them even make me feel young! Anyway, Sky, hope you’ll join us now and then. Thing is—well, I know you love what you do. You take music someplace special and do special things with it when you work with kids, so... I hope you can keep doing what you love, and still throw some gigs in with us old-timers now and then, too.”
She gave him a quick hug. “Chris, thank you, and I hope so, too.”
Nathan called Chris, asking him to come check something on the keyboard. Chris hurried off, and Brandon grimaced at Sky.
“And here we all are.”
“And you, sir, are great on the keyboards and backup. And you play lead guitar, too!”
Brandon laughed. “I try. Anyway, I’m happy to be here. We’ll have fun.”
She smiled. “Sure. Lots of fun!”
“The special friend group is arriving,” Brandon said using air quotes and almost whispering as if someone might have heard them from the audience. “There’s that guy Chase knows—some kind of a forensic expert, does all kinds of lecturing.”
“Yeah, I met him. Andy Wellington. Nice guy,” Sky assured him.
“Yeah, he seems okay. And there’s Justin’s wife, Julia,” Brandon pointed out. “Wonder who that guy she’s with is. She usually shows up with the kids. Well, adult kids—both of them just finished college.” He laughed suddenly. “And there—Nathan brings two of the kids from Little League—they get to win tickets. Not by playing. I guess he channeled your dad. They get two backstage tickets for helping others to improve most. Kind of cool, huh?”
“Yep, very,” Sky agreed. She smiled. The kids were in their midteens. Half grown-up—half not. They were watching everything that was going on wide-eyed and seemed thrilled when Charlie approached them, asking them to stand in different spots to make sure the revolving, colored lights looked good over the audience.
She glanced at the man with Julia. She’d never met him, but she assumed he had to be a relative or a family friend. Justin’s marriage had always been solid as a rock, and she’d met Julia several times through the years. She was a woman who seemed to love what her husband did—and loved getting to see all the various performances he might work.
“Sky, did you want to take lead guitar on the ballad or just the vocals? I mean, you can do both, and I know that you might prefer both, but—”
“Brandon, can you take lead on that?” Sky asked. “I think I do want to concentrate on the vocals.”
“Honored, Sky,” Brandon assured her.
“Pulling in a wire!” Justin called, heading backstage right.
Sky couldn’t help but notice that Chase idly followed him, stopping to talk briefly to Mark, check something on the drum set—and then head on back.
She wanted to follow, too.
But...
