"Yes, sir?" Marvin appeared in the hallway entrance.

"Tell me everything you can remember about the man who delivered the package for Miss Morgan."

The driver blinked, frowned in obvious thought, then said, "He was probably somewhere in his mid-fifties and fit for his age. He was medium tall-say five-ten or -eleven-and he had on a black security uniform."

"I'll check on the color of Red Rock's, but I doubt it will be that easy. How about his hair? What color was it?"

Sweat trickled down Marvin's temple. "Um, I didn't notice. He had on the kind of hat you'd see on cops at a police funeral. You know, like when they're in their dress uniforms?"

"You're very observant," Jared said, but he had to work to keep his voice easy. Because while he spoke the truth, he wanted more. He wanted total recall. He drew and exhaled a calming breath. "Just close your eyes for a minute. Maybe it'll come to you."

Marvin did as he was told, but after a minute his eyes popped open again and he shook his head. "What was in the box, Mr. Hamilton?" he asked anxiously. "Am I in trouble? Because I'm sorry, but it didn't even occur to me to question him when he said Miz Morgan had asked him to deliver her package to the bus. He knew my name, so I just assumed-"

Jared straightened. "He knew your name?"

"Yes, sir."

He turned to P.J. "Where have you said Marvin's name publicly?"

"I-I-I." Biting off the stutter, she stared up at him. Shook her head. "Nowhere."

"Think, Peej. Your driver's name isn't the sort of thing that would be common knowledge, so it's unlikely the man just pulled it out of thin air. I've heard you talk to your audiences at concerts. Have you mentioned Marvin at one of them maybe, or to a backstage worker somewhere? A roadie or makeup woman or-"

"No, I swear."

"During a radio interview?"

"No." Then she paused. "Wait. Yes."

Yes!Now they were getting somewhere. The probability of finding the guy went up significantly with a concrete place to start. "When?"

"It was:" Brow furrowing, she trailed off into silence. "Damn, I can't remember!"

"It's okay," he said softly. "Don't try to force it. Do what I suggested to Marvin. Just close your eyes and let your mind drift."

"Brown!" Marvin exclaimed out of the blue. When everyone looked at him, he said, "The man's hair was sort of sandy-brown and cut short. It might have been graying a bit at the temples."

Jared grinned and slapped the driver on the back. "Good work. When the cops show up, let's see if we can get them to hook you up with a sketch artist."

"Yes, excellent work, Marvin," P.J. said, reaching to pat the driver's hand. "And I'm sorry I put you in this position. Because I do remember now-I mentioned your name on the first satellite radio interview I did. The DJ and I had been talking about the tavern gigs I'd done on my way to Portland. And when he asked if I planned to continue driving myself to the other cities on the tour I said no and mentioned your name."

"It's not a problem, Miz Morgan. I feel bad I let him bamboozle me."

"I suggest we all do better from now on," Jared cut in. "Marvin, we'll make you a list of the people we want to get through to us. You don't accept anything from anyone who's not on it. And, P.J., do not give out any more personal information. Not your friends' names, not the type or color of vehicle you drive and certainly not where you live when you're not on the road."

"Oh, crap. My transgressions just keep piling up."

He turned a slow stare on her. "Meaning?"

Looking guilty, she nevertheless shot her pointy little chin up at him. "That interview where I mentioned Marvin? I also told the DJ I'd bought my first real home in Aspen."

"Dammit, P.J.!" Then he shook off his frustration. Glommed on to his professionalism. "No, it's all right. I would have liked to've known about it a little sooner, but it's all right. The bad news here is also the good news-this guy is clearly trailing you, not hanging around As pen looking to burn down your house. All the same, I'll call Gert and have her arrange to have a guard put on it."

"Okay, boss."

His first inclination was to snarl that he wasn't screwing around here. But giving her a quick, close inspection, he saw that she knew that. Signs of strain showed beneath her flippancy, and he tamped down a temper he had no business experiencing in the first place. "I should have asked for tapes of the interviews. If I had we would have talked about this sooner and some of the measures I intend to take now would already be in place. I apologize. I should have anticipated something like this." What was it about her, anyway, that got under his skin so easily?

Her head snapping up, she shot him a look of disgust. "Oh, get over yourself, Hamilton. Who the hell could've foreseen a whack job like this popping up?"

"I should have. This tour has you in the public eye and there's been a ton of publicity about you lately. That's exactly the kind of situation that brings out the crazies." But that horse had left the barn, so he shrugged. "What radio station was that interview on? That would give us a more exact place to start."

"I don't remember off the top of my head. Somewhere in the Midwest-in Iowa, I think. Nell would have a copy of the schedule."

The police still hadn't arrived when it was time for P.J. to go to the amphitheater to have her hair and makeup done. But Rocket showed up. After looking to Jared for permission, Marvin let John onto the bus.

His brother-in-law looked as easy as ever as he climbed aboard. Stopping in front of P.J., he gave her a gentle smile. "How are you doing?"

"I'm freaked," she said. "And angry. But basically okay. What are you doing here?"

"Jared called me."

He nodded an acknowledgment when she glanced over at him. "I need to stay here to wait for the police to show up and I don't want you going anywhere alone."

"I put in a call to Detective Ellis," John said, naming a detective they'd both worked with in the past. "Of course, the problem here is jurisdiction, and this belongs to Morrison rather than Denver. Still, she said she'd reach out and see if she couldn't get someone out here ASAP. Meanwhile-" Turning to P.J., he offered his arm. "Whataya say, sweetheart? Can I escort you to the amphitheater?"

 

P.J.FRETTED ABOUT THE quality of her upcoming performance as she sat through makeup and hair. She was tense and upset and as much as she didn't want it to affect the concert, she didn't see how it could help but do precisely that.

But she'd forgotten to take into account the number-one factor of her existence. Music was, and always had been, her drug of choice. And when she strode out onto the stage and saw the navy sky framed by two soaring three-hundred-foot red sandstone monoliths that were floodlit from below, when she opened her mouth to belt out her first number and the shifting sea of humanity that spread up the slope before her roared to its feet in response, it was the remedy she needed for what ailed her.

Just as it had always been. Euphoria flooded her veins, washing out all the sick anger that had lodged in her stomach ever since she'd seen that snake, read that note. By the time they wrapped up the first song, she knew it was going to be a concert for the record books. "Hello, Red Rocks!"

The audience screamed greetings back.

"Is this the greatest natural amphitheater in the world, or what?"

The roar of nine thousand throats agreed that it was.

When the concert came to a thunderous conclusion an hour and a half later, she was perspiring freely. Clammy clothing and frizzing hair aside, however, she felt marvelous. Accepting a hand towel from Nell when she finally exited the stage, she grinned at her friend and danced in place. "Wow. Was that the best one ever, or what?"

"You rocked," Nell agreed. "I was ready to commiserate with you over that snake business, but you obviously found a way to get past it."

"I was really worried that my performance would reflect how much it shook me up, but I dunno-I got out there and the music just took me away. This has got to be the most beautiful venue I've ever played, and the acoustics are stunning."

"They're incredible," Hank agreed, joining them. "Dynamite concert."

"We were jammin'!" Eddie enthused, strolling up.

"God, weren't we?" She bumped her fist companionably against her band members' arms, then danced in place again, finding it difficult to stand still under the residual adrenaline still surging through her bloodstream. "I was just telling Nell that I thought it was our best one yet."

Jared came over. "Great concert."

She grinned. "That seems to be the general consensus." She looked around for the tall man who had stood watch over her before the show. "Where's John?"

"The cops finished with me just about the time the show began, so I sent him back to catch the rest of it with Tori, Esme and Mac. Let's get you out of here," he said, his gaze in constant motion as he monitored the postconcert activity gearing up in the backstage area. "This is a little too public for my liking." Sliding his hand beneath her elbow, he started to lead her away-and not in the direction of the dressing room.

"Wait, wait!" She pulled against his light grasp, but he didn't let go. "Where are we going? Your family is supposed to meet us back here."

"I told them to meet us at the hotel instead." He turned to Nell, Hank and Eddie. "You're welcome to come, as well."

"Did you get rid of the snake?" P.J. demanded, tapping her foot impatiently until he turned his attention back to her.