Coming Undone

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"OMIGAWD, OMIGAWD, OMIGAWD."P.J. couldn't backpedal from the bed fast enough. But neither could she seem to rip her gaze from the narrow, reptilian head rising above the lip of the box. She watched hypnotized as the snake slithered over the container's side. When it touched the comforter and began to wind across the bed, Jared tossed aside the box lid and grabbed it.

"Are you crazy?" Her backward momentum stopped dead. "Don'ttouch it! It might be poisonous."

"No." He grasped the snake behind its narrow head and just above its tapered tail and, holding it up, stretched the reptile out to what appeared to be a full six feet. "It's a corn snake. I knew a jarhead in North Carolina once who had one for a pet. They're nonpoisonous."

"He had a snake for apet? " She shivered. "I bet he didn't have a lot of girlfriends."

"No shit," Hank agreed.

Jared looked up from studying the snake. "You don't think he's kind of pretty? Look at this coloring."

And from a distance the reptile did have a beauty of sorts. Its skin was gold with vibrant red-orange markings outlined in brown. Had it been behind glass in a zoo, she might even have admired it.

But it wasn't, and she didn't.

"Hank," Jared said. "Check inside the box to see if there's a message. Then get the lid, will you? Try not to touch either too much, though, if you can avoid it. The cops will probably want to dust it for prints."

Hank brushed by her and leaned to peer in the box. "There is something here." He pulled out a sheet of paper by its upper-right corner and traded it for the box lid on the bed. "Ready when you are."

They worked like a team of long standing as Jared returned the snake to the box and Hank slipped on the lid to secure it. Then J bent to read the paper. She and Hank crowded in on either side to see what it said.

I WILL SEND THE TEETH OF BEASTS UPON THEM, WITH THE POISON OF SERPENTS OF THE DUST.

YOU HAVE FAILED TO HONOR THY MOTHER AS THE BIBLE INSTRUCTS.

"It's the same person, isn't it," she said. The tone was consistent with the last message. She glanced uneasily at the box. "Are you sure that snake's not poisonous?"

"Yes. But I'll get on the horn with the cops." Using his palms on the corners of the box, Jared lifted it off the bed and set it out in the hall. He was already pulling his cell phone from his pocket as he stepped back into the room.

"What 'them'?" she asked suddenly. When both men gave her a blank look, she said, "It says 'I will send the teeth of beasts upon them.' What them? He sent the snake to me."

"It's a biblical reference," Hank said. "From 'Moses' Song' in Deuteronomy. The 'them' refers to the Israelites." When both she and Jared stared at him, he shrugged, flashing them a wry smile. "I'm a southern boy. That's pretty much synonymous with being raised in the church."

Jared turned his attention to the 911 dispatcher that had obviously just picked up and P.J. moved closer to Hank.

"So what this guy is saying, then, is that he's not happy about Mama's version of our relationship? Likehe knows anything about it." But she waved the brief flash of bitterness aside. "Good thing I had you to interpret, Hank, because I'm not sure I'd have gotten it without you. Seems to me he'd have a better chance putting his message across if he used something that everybody's familiar with whether they're churchgoers or not. You know, like the Lord's Prayer or that Lord is my Shepherd psalm. I know neither makes the point he's trying to get across, but still, there must be something more well known." Her eyes lit up. "I know, maybe that 'a thankless child is sharper than a serpent's tooth' thing. I would've gotten that one."

"Except it's not from the Bible," Hank said.

"Oh." She grimaced. "I guess that shows how important Mama thought religion was to my upbringing. Itsounds like something that might be in the Bible."

"Yeah, it does. It's Shakespeare, though, and this guy is clearly a zealot, so I doubt that in his mind a playwright's words would fit the bill. Religion's his thing."

"Sending snakes to people he doesn't know anything about doesn't seem very Christian to me."

"I'm talking about the way he apparently views himself, Peej. You're right, though, it isn't the way I was taught. My God is benevolent. And even to the hell and brimstoners, Romans clearly says, 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink. For in doing so thou shalt heap coals upon his head'." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Which is probably more information than you want or need. This kind of shit just burns me up, though. The guy who sent that snake might consider himself some onward Christian soldier, but that's bull. He's nothing but a stalker."

"Oh God." Ice formed in her stomach as she gaped at Hank. "I hadn't thought about it like that, but that's exactly what this is, isn't it? Stalking. Like with John Lennon."

Sliding his cell phone back into his pocket, Jared rejoined them. "I know it's easier said than done not to worry," he said. "But try at least not to let it make you crazy."

"I know." She grimaced with self-deprecation. "I'm hardly in Lennon's class."

"That's not what I'm saying. I just meant that I'm going to take care of this before it has the chance to escalate to that sort of violence."

"What happened to calling in the cops?"

"Oh, I called them. Unfortunately there's no telling when they'll get here, since no one was hurt or is in immediate danger. That's a good thing, but it makes us a low priority so it could be a while. I think we should put the box in one of the free berths to keep from contaminating it any more than we already have. I can't imagine them not dusting for prints when they get here. If we're lucky our guy will be in the system and that will be the end of it."

"I wouldn't count on it if P.J. is the first person he's stalked," Hank said.

"I know. And I don't plan on standing around waiting for information they may or may not feel like sharing with us even if he is." Jared stowed the box in a berth. Pulling the accordion curtain closed, he called, "Marvin!"

"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.

"Yes. The cops took it."

"Okay, good." She turned to Nell. "I checked into a room at the T-"

Jared clapped his hand over her mouth. "Keep your voice down."

She nodded and he removed his hand. "I took a room at the Teatro for the next three nights," she said very quietly, finding herself checking out everyone around her, as well. "If you don't want to stay on the bus tonight I'll get you rooms there, too."

"Not this kid," Eddie said. "I've got me a place to stay. In fact, I'd better go find my date. Fan-freakintastic show, Peej. Sorry 'bout the snake. There's sure as shit some sick sumbitches out there." Picking up his instrument case, he strolled away.

P.J. turned to Nell. "How about you? Would you like a room in an honest-to-God hotel for a change?"

"Oh. Well." Nell turned to Hank. "Are you staying on the bus?"

"Yes."

"Then thanks for the offer, Peej, but I'll be fine here," she said. "I'd be nervous on my own, but as long as Hank's going to be there I won't have a problem." She gave him an uncertain look. "That is, unless you have other plans?"

"Nope. Why don't we pop us up some popcorn and give that song you've been working on a whirl?"

Nell shot him a brilliant smile. "That sounds like an excellent plan."

A few short moments later P.J. found herself tucked into Jared's Jeep, headed back to Denver. She yawned as the last of her adrenaline drained away. Suddenly she was exhausted.

He glanced over at her. "You coming down off that Rocky Mountain high?"

"Yeah. Pretty obvious, huh? Between the snake and Red Rocks, I was all jacked up. It was one great concert, though. I'd play that venue again in a heartbeat." She shoved herself upright. "What did the cops say, J? Am I going to have to talk to them?"

"No. They dusted for prints and had Marvin work with a sketch artist. Between the first threat, the radio interview, which Nell says was in Iowa City, and today's gift, there are three states involved. So the Morrison police are going to send everything to the FBI."

"God, what a mess. Do you have a copy of the sketch? Maybe I'll recognize the man."

"I'll show it to you later. For now, though, why don't you concentrate on hanging on to that good feeling the show gave you. I know my sister is looking forward to seeing you again."

That brought up a worry of another kind. "What should I do about refreshments? We oughtta offer your family something, but I don't know if we should stop at a deli or order up room service or what." She gave him a tired smile. "You can take the girl out of the honky-tonk but you just can't take that honky-tonk outta the girl."

He looked over at her. "Do you feel like shopping?"

"Not really."

"Then we'll raid the minibar or order up a pot of coffee and some cake or something."

Jared's family and Gert were in the lobby when they arrived and P.J. got a sudden second wind. Laughing, she crossed to greet them.

Esme swooped over to meet her halfway. "Omigawd," she said. "That was the most awesome concert I've ever attended!"

"I felt like it was the best I'd ever given," she agreed. "Isn't that amphitheater something?"

She reached Gert, Victoria and John, but as she started to greet them Jared interrupted. "Let's take this upstairs."

So she snuck peeks at Tori as they walked over to the bank of elevators. "You haven't changed at all," she said as a car arrived and they all stepped in.

The tall brunette laughed and leaned to give her a smacking kiss on the lips. "That's a bold-faced lie, you sweet thing," she said, patting a hip that might be more padded than it had been fifteen years ago. "But a delightful one, so thank you. You have. You're all grown-up. And so talented."

P.J. actually felt a blush flowing upward from her chest. Shyness had never been her particular curse and she possessed a healthy ego when it came to her talent. Yet an unaccustomed bashfulness overtook her now. "You liked the concert then?" This woman had formed the gold standard of parenting for more than half of her life. Suddenly being face-to-face with her felt like communing with a goddess.

"Iloved your concert. I stand in awe of your talent."

A huge smile split her face. "I stand in awe of yours, too. I still have the dollhouse you gave me."

"You do?" Victoria looked delighted to hear it.

"Yes. It's one of my most prized possessions. I keep it in my bedroom in my house in Aspen." Stopping in front of the suite, she handed Jared the key card and reached to give Gert a hug. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"I don't need entertaining, missy. You had some catching up to do and I was happy to listen. Here." The older woman thrust a foil-covered plate at her. "I brought you some brownies."

"Omigawd." She laughed with delight. "This is perfect. I'll order us up some coffee to go with it."

"Would you mind making mine tea?" Esme asked as they trooped into the suite.

"I'd prefer that, too," Tori agreed. "I'll be zooming 'til dawn if I drink coffee at this hour."

"I'll order a pot of each. And check the minifridge if there's anything else you'd rather have. I know there's a few little bottles of wine in there and there might be beer."

The impromptu party turned out to be so successful it didn't break up until after two o'clock in the morning. After bidding a final farewell to Gert and the Miglionnis, she closed the door behind them, looked at Jared and sighed. "Your family is so great. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have them?"

He studied her soberly, then reached out to gently grasp her elbow and escort her back into the suite. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, I think I do."

She gazed at him a moment, then said reluctantly, "I suppose I ought to look at that artist's sketch now."

Jared extracted it from a folder on the desk and handed it to her.

Holding her breath, she looked down at it. Then she blew it out in a single harsh exhalation. "I've never seen him before." Rubbing her temples between her thumbs and fingers, she stared up at him. "God, Jared. What am I going to do?"

"Tonight?" he asked gently, smoothing a strand of her hair back into place. "Not a damn thing. Come on." He reached for the buttons on her little gauze top, his gaze filled not with the sexual heat she expected but rather a fierce tenderness that squeezed her heart. "Let's go to bed. Things will look better in the morning."