Read Online Rock Star Down (The Psychic Registry) by William Leslie - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: William Leslie
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of mourning fans had taken
over Jaqui and Rock's street.
Jacquelyn Scott and
Rock Franklin shared the corner row house in an upper-middle class neighborhood
at the city limit. At three stories high, the houses were big and the corner
terrace was especially so. Still, Nathan had expected a more exclusive address
for the home of a pop star and her producer husband. The neighborhood was nice
enough, but it wasn't so nice that he wouldn't give a second thought to parking
his BMW on the street. He expressed his curiosity aloud and was rewarded with an
answer from Laurel:
"Rock bought this
house when he hit it big with his band. His parents live just a few minutes
from here and he likes to visit them when he can," she told him. "Jaqui
doesn't like it so much. She wants a mansion with a gate and servants quarters
above a four car garage."
"You got this
from their TV show?" Nathan asked.
"Yeah. Rock is a
blue collar guy and isn't ashamed of it. While Jaqui is a bit of a princess ,"
Laurel said.
"So there was
tension between them, at least as far as the show was concerned," Nathan
said.
"I don't think it
was staged. You could tell they weren't getting along entirely," Laurel
replied.
Archer added, "She's
been spending a lot of time on the West coast, trying to get into movies, I
gather. That fits with the affair angle. Wife's gone on business, husband's
getting short shrift."
"But how does
somebody conduct an affair and not get caught if they're the subject of a
reality show?" Nathan wondered. "You'd think they'd get nabbed on
tape at some point. And that would definitely make the cut!"
Archer replied, "Ain't
that kind of show. They don't spy on them. They follow them around as
they do their jobs and then mix that with their private lives. Didn't they get
married on the show?"
Laurel nodded, adding,
"That was the first season finale. But the video crew only works for two
or three months. And even then it isn't around-the-clock shooting. Besides, big
stars like Jaqui and Rock call the shots on a show like this. If the producers
don't keep them happy, then they fire them or cancel the show."
"So this wasn't a
couple of down on their luck has-beens trying to fire up their careers?"
Nathan asked.
"Nope,"
Laurel and Archer answered in unison.
As they walked, Nathan
was counting the TV cameras in the distance. "Lot of TV for a three-day-old
murder," he noted.
"Word must be out
on you, Nathan," Archer mused.
Nathan shrugged it
off. Media types didn't bother him so much – not even the TV people, and they
were the dumbest of the lot – but they could make his job and his life more
difficult.
"Do me a favor,
Laurel?" he asked.
Laurel perked up, "Yes,
Nathan?"
"I'd prefer not
to have any live mics or cameras in my face— Suffice to say, some psychics can
get a read on people using a remote feed and I'm not keen on giving any snoops
a freebie."
"Wow, sure
Nathan. But what can I do? They all know you. I'm a nobody ."
"Just act like a
big shot. Like you're the one they should want to talk to."
Laurel wrinkled her
nose, "Okay, but what do I say?"
"Don't say jack.
Or better, yet, say no comment. But say it like you're the final
authority on the matter."
Archer smiled and
shook her head.
"Are you pulling
my chain, Nathan?"
"Not in the
least," he said.
There was a fan
memorial on the sidewalk in front of the house that spanned from one stoop to
the next. The fans lined half the block, shuffling in a slow procession past
the memorial of flowers and pictures, candles and mementos. Uniformed police
kept the mourners and well-wishers off of Rock and Jaqui's doorstep. Across the
street, on the opposite sidewalk was the media encampment, dominated by TV
crews and video bloggers with a few people from print and radio.
A smattering of entrepreneurs
had seized the opportunity: a white taco truck was doing brisk business near
the media enclave, a hot-dog cart, too, and more than one person was selling
t-shirts.
Nathan had Laurel
over Jaqui and Rock's street.
Jacquelyn Scott and
Rock Franklin shared the corner row house in an upper-middle class neighborhood
at the city limit. At three stories high, the houses were big and the corner
terrace was especially so. Still, Nathan had expected a more exclusive address
for the home of a pop star and her producer husband. The neighborhood was nice
enough, but it wasn't so nice that he wouldn't give a second thought to parking
his BMW on the street. He expressed his curiosity aloud and was rewarded with an
answer from Laurel:
"Rock bought this
house when he hit it big with his band. His parents live just a few minutes
from here and he likes to visit them when he can," she told him. "Jaqui
doesn't like it so much. She wants a mansion with a gate and servants quarters
above a four car garage."
"You got this
from their TV show?" Nathan asked.
"Yeah. Rock is a
blue collar guy and isn't ashamed of it. While Jaqui is a bit of a princess ,"
Laurel said.
"So there was
tension between them, at least as far as the show was concerned," Nathan
said.
"I don't think it
was staged. You could tell they weren't getting along entirely," Laurel
replied.
Archer added, "She's
been spending a lot of time on the West coast, trying to get into movies, I
gather. That fits with the affair angle. Wife's gone on business, husband's
getting short shrift."
"But how does
somebody conduct an affair and not get caught if they're the subject of a
reality show?" Nathan wondered. "You'd think they'd get nabbed on
tape at some point. And that would definitely make the cut!"
Archer replied, "Ain't
that kind of show. They don't spy on them. They follow them around as
they do their jobs and then mix that with their private lives. Didn't they get
married on the show?"
Laurel nodded, adding,
"That was the first season finale. But the video crew only works for two
or three months. And even then it isn't around-the-clock shooting. Besides, big
stars like Jaqui and Rock call the shots on a show like this. If the producers
don't keep them happy, then they fire them or cancel the show."
"So this wasn't a
couple of down on their luck has-beens trying to fire up their careers?"
Nathan asked.
"Nope,"
Laurel and Archer answered in unison.
As they walked, Nathan
was counting the TV cameras in the distance. "Lot of TV for a three-day-old
murder," he noted.
"Word must be out
on you, Nathan," Archer mused.
Nathan shrugged it
off. Media types didn't bother him so much – not even the TV people, and they
were the dumbest of the lot – but they could make his job and his life more
difficult.
"Do me a favor,
Laurel?" he asked.
Laurel perked up, "Yes,
Nathan?"
"I'd prefer not
to have any live mics or cameras in my face— Suffice to say, some psychics can
get a read on people using a remote feed and I'm not keen on giving any snoops
a freebie."
"Wow, sure
Nathan. But what can I do? They all know you. I'm a nobody ."
"Just act like a
big shot. Like you're the one they should want to talk to."
Laurel wrinkled her
nose, "Okay, but what do I say?"
"Don't say jack.
Or better, yet, say no comment. But say it like you're the final
authority on the matter."
Archer smiled and
shook her head.
"Are you pulling
my chain, Nathan?"
"Not in the
least," he said.
There was a fan
memorial on the sidewalk in front of the house that spanned from one stoop to
the next. The fans lined half the block, shuffling in a slow procession past
the memorial of flowers and pictures, candles and mementos. Uniformed police
kept the mourners and well-wishers off of Rock and Jaqui's doorstep. Across the
street, on the opposite sidewalk was the media encampment, dominated by TV
crews and video bloggers with a few people from print and radio.
A smattering of entrepreneurs
had seized the opportunity: a white taco truck was doing brisk business near
the media enclave, a hot-dog cart, too, and more than one person was selling
t-shirts.
Nathan had Laurel
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