Read Online Liar's Moon by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page B

hair. Tracy didn’t really know. He had always been “Tiger.” She hadn’t seen Tiger in seven years, but Tiger, too, resembled somewhat “A Picture of Dorian Gray.” He was the shortest of the old group at about five-ten and he looked like something out of a Civil War flick with his drooping but elegant mustache and over-the-collar curling hair, but he, too, could have easily passed for thirty. Had they all sold their souls to the devil? Tracy wondered whimsically. Even her father, Jesse, could have passed for a kid on the street the day he had died.
    It was really impossible to talk while the concert was going on. Tracy turned back around to watch her brother, and she was surprised at her own feelings of absolute pride. The audience was wild—and Jamie was brilliant, standing entirely on his own. When his song ended—one of the softer ballads that had been her own creation—the cheering seemed louder than the final drumbeats that had preceded it. Jamie, sweaty but beaming, stood and began to talk.
    Sam and Tiger were into a discussion on Jamie’s equipment. Tracy idly glanced around and saw that Leif had been cornered by a reporter in the wings. She couldn’t help but watch him, nor could she control the physical reactions that rose within her. She felt shaky as if breathing had suddenly become a little more difficult, as if her heart had forgotten how to beat in its proper fashion. Leif was striking—had always been, would always be. So straight, so tall, so dark, and with those wonderful smoky eyes. Tonight he was in a soft leather fawn jacket, no tie, but a chocolate silk shirt and light trousers. She smiled, thinking that when she had been eight and in a childish state of adoration over Jesse before she had learned who he was, the Limelights had performed in tricorns and frock coats. Then they’d gone through a Nehru jacket stage—then coats and ties—then whatever anyone felt like wearing.
    “Oh, my God!” Tiger groaned suddenly. “What a thing to do to us!”
    Startled, Tracy gave him her attention. He was looking at her, but staring over her head. She followed his gaze and saw that Jamie was reaching out a hand to the wings entreatingly.
    “What’ll we do?” Sam asked.
    “Ask Leif.”
    “Ask Leif what?”
    He was with them, hands in his pockets as he came between the two other men to smile down at Tracy. “I don’t know how he got back here”—he cast his head in the reporter’s direction—“but I had to promise him an interview later. Will you mind waiting?”
    She shook her head, wondering why he had asked her. She had ridden over with him and Jamie—she’d return with them both when they were ready. And it was more than obvious that Jamie would be inundated by the media.
    “Leif!” Tiger persisted. “Did you know anything about this? He’s calling us out there!”
    Leif frowned and shook his head and realized that Jamie was onstage, his hand still outstretched. And the audience was chanting; thousands of feet were stamping in unison.
    Jamie crooked a finger at Leif.
    Leif crooked a finger back at Jamie.
    Jamie shook his head, smiled at the audience, then shrugged and walked into the wings.
    “What are you doing?” Leif demanded. “I promised to manage the tour for you—not perform on it!”
    “Ah, Leif, come on! When will we all be together again? Probably never. Listen to them out there. Please— it will be an historical event.”
    “He thinks we’re history,” Sam groaned.
    “We are history,” Tiger said.
    “Please, Leif?” Jamie begged.
    Leif stared at him a long moment and Tracy saw all the things that passed between them—the depth of affection, the give and take. Again, despite herself, she was glad that Jamie had Leif.
    “All—right,” Leif said at last.
    Jamie screamed out some kind of cry of triumph, then went rushing back out. Sam and Tiger looked at one another and grinned, and followed him. Leif was following behind them, but suddenly he caught