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Authors: Anne Marie Stoddard
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right? Don't you want better for your only daughter than becoming another sad teen statistic?"
As Bronwyn fixed him with her most convincing puppy dog eyes, the sergeant's face softened. She'd laid it on thick, and he ate it right up. The sarge folded his arms across his broad chest and turned to face me. "Fine," he said, defeated. "I still stand by my orders that the second floor and rear tower are to be sealed off—as well as the loading dock and Parker's office." I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to stop me. "All of those areas will be strictly off limits to the staff and the public. However," he added with a glance at Bronwyn, "I will allow the downstairs stage to remain open for business. My forensics team will be in and out of the closed-off areas as they investigate further, and I will assign a couple of officers to patrol those areas as I see fit. If so much as a speck of dust is moved up there by someone other than a member of the APD, I will shut this place down so fast it'll make your head spin. Do we have a deal?"
I nodded hastily and shook his hand before he had a change of heart. My own mind was racing, mapping out the logistics of moving Bobby's second show—and possibly the third—down to the Dungeon. The downstairs setup mirrored the stage and seating of High Court, and it held the same capacity. The acoustics weren't quite as great, but we could get by. There was just one thing…"Sergeant Sinclair, I think we can make that work—but I've got one more quick issue to settle. All of the band's instruments and the crew's video equipment are still in High Court. Since my staff and I are barred from the area, how do you propose we get it moved downstairs?"
Bronwyn shot me a warning look. "Quit while you're ahead," she mouthed from behind her father's back.
Sure enough, Sergeant Sinclair barked out a laugh. "What?" he scoffed. "Do you expect my men to move your equipment around? What do you take us for, a bunch of wannabe roadies?" He shook his head. "I've done all I can for you by letting you keep the downstairs open—but I can't allow you to contaminate our crime scene by going up there and moving things around. You're a bright woman, Amelia. I'm sure you'll figure something out."
CHAPTER SIX
Twenty minutes later, I was finally free to go. The cops had run off the gaggle of reporters waiting to harass us, and Bobby and his crew had been escorted safely to their hotel. The rest of the Castle Rock staff was released while Bronwyn and I were negotiating with the sarge in my office.
Kat left before I could see how she was doing. I would call and check on her when I got home. I'd been so focused on trying to earn a promotion that I'd failed to be there for my best friend.
While the thought of walking to my car alone made me a little uneasy, I declined Sinclair's offer to escort me. I glanced over at Bronwyn, slumped down and already drooling on the seat belt in the passenger side of his patrol car, and something told me it'd be best if he went ahead and got her home before Mrs. Sinclair went mad with worry. The sergeant didn't argue. "Detective Dixon will be in touch tomorrow, Amelia," he said as he eased into the driver's seat and closed the door behind him. I waved goodbye and began my trek to the employee parking lot behind the courtyard out back.
As I rounded the corner of the building, my gaze traveled up to the rear tower. Until now, I'd always considered the structure to be one of my favorite spots at Castle Rock. Kat, Reese, Laura, and I had hung out up there lots of times, knocking back beers and sharing the occasional joint. The tower had a perfect view of the fireworks displays held at Turner Field after Friday night Braves games and on the Fourth of July. I had a lot of fond memories up there. Now, after Parker's tragic death just hours before, the majestic structure loomed dark and formidable against the night sky. I shuddered, remembering the ghastly silhouette of my
As Bronwyn fixed him with her most convincing puppy dog eyes, the sergeant's face softened. She'd laid it on thick, and he ate it right up. The sarge folded his arms across his broad chest and turned to face me. "Fine," he said, defeated. "I still stand by my orders that the second floor and rear tower are to be sealed off—as well as the loading dock and Parker's office." I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to stop me. "All of those areas will be strictly off limits to the staff and the public. However," he added with a glance at Bronwyn, "I will allow the downstairs stage to remain open for business. My forensics team will be in and out of the closed-off areas as they investigate further, and I will assign a couple of officers to patrol those areas as I see fit. If so much as a speck of dust is moved up there by someone other than a member of the APD, I will shut this place down so fast it'll make your head spin. Do we have a deal?"
I nodded hastily and shook his hand before he had a change of heart. My own mind was racing, mapping out the logistics of moving Bobby's second show—and possibly the third—down to the Dungeon. The downstairs setup mirrored the stage and seating of High Court, and it held the same capacity. The acoustics weren't quite as great, but we could get by. There was just one thing…"Sergeant Sinclair, I think we can make that work—but I've got one more quick issue to settle. All of the band's instruments and the crew's video equipment are still in High Court. Since my staff and I are barred from the area, how do you propose we get it moved downstairs?"
Bronwyn shot me a warning look. "Quit while you're ahead," she mouthed from behind her father's back.
Sure enough, Sergeant Sinclair barked out a laugh. "What?" he scoffed. "Do you expect my men to move your equipment around? What do you take us for, a bunch of wannabe roadies?" He shook his head. "I've done all I can for you by letting you keep the downstairs open—but I can't allow you to contaminate our crime scene by going up there and moving things around. You're a bright woman, Amelia. I'm sure you'll figure something out."
CHAPTER SIX
Twenty minutes later, I was finally free to go. The cops had run off the gaggle of reporters waiting to harass us, and Bobby and his crew had been escorted safely to their hotel. The rest of the Castle Rock staff was released while Bronwyn and I were negotiating with the sarge in my office.
Kat left before I could see how she was doing. I would call and check on her when I got home. I'd been so focused on trying to earn a promotion that I'd failed to be there for my best friend.
While the thought of walking to my car alone made me a little uneasy, I declined Sinclair's offer to escort me. I glanced over at Bronwyn, slumped down and already drooling on the seat belt in the passenger side of his patrol car, and something told me it'd be best if he went ahead and got her home before Mrs. Sinclair went mad with worry. The sergeant didn't argue. "Detective Dixon will be in touch tomorrow, Amelia," he said as he eased into the driver's seat and closed the door behind him. I waved goodbye and began my trek to the employee parking lot behind the courtyard out back.
As I rounded the corner of the building, my gaze traveled up to the rear tower. Until now, I'd always considered the structure to be one of my favorite spots at Castle Rock. Kat, Reese, Laura, and I had hung out up there lots of times, knocking back beers and sharing the occasional joint. The tower had a perfect view of the fireworks displays held at Turner Field after Friday night Braves games and on the Fourth of July. I had a lot of fond memories up there. Now, after Parker's tragic death just hours before, the majestic structure loomed dark and formidable against the night sky. I shuddered, remembering the ghastly silhouette of my
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