Ballads and Bloodshed by Dan DeKoning

Author:Dan DeKoning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy, Singer, Songwriter, Murder, California
Publisher: Dan DeKoning
Published: 2024-03-27T00:00:00+00:00

TWO HOURS LATER, LAUREL and I were sitting outside, me in my favorite chair, Laurel in Bozeman’s, when a car pulled up and Russell and Fran emerged from the vehicle. Russell carried a backpack and a computer bag. Fran had a carry-on suitcase, and she looked like she was returning from the airport.

Fran waved her fingers at us before she climbed onto the bus, but Russell didn’t acknowledge us at all.

Fifteen minutes later, Fran stepped off the bus carrying a large mesh beach bag. She had a pair of flip-flops wedged in the side, the top of a bottle of shampoo sticking up from a pocket, and there was a towel under her arm.

“Hey, keep your eye on things here for me, would you?” she said in our direction.

Without waiting for Laurel to answer, I jumped out of my seat and double-timed my gait until I almost caught up with Fran. Since she was taller than I was, I had to walk a little faster than I normally would just to keep up with her.

“Fran. Hey, Fran, slow down!”

Fran stopped, looked behind her, noticed it was me, and smiled.

“Hi, Codi.”

“Do you mind if I talk to you?”

“Sure. Walk with me. I’m sorry about your friend getting arrested. He seemed like a nice guy. I was hoping to spend some time with him.”

On instinct, I rolled my eyes. It seemed Bozeman had a knack for attracting attention in practically every place we played. Not that it surprised me since tall, dark, and handsome didn’t go out of style, and he always kept his six-pack, regardless of how many twelve-packs he put away. To his credit, though, he rarely caught any of the passes that women threw his way. When he did, he never brought a date back to the bus, which is something I was eternally grateful for.

“Well, I hope you get your chance. I called a lawyer this morning, and she thinks we can bond him out by tomorrow.”

Fran smiled. “How nice for him.”

“I’m sorry about Toby. How long were you with him?” I asked.

Fran smiled again. “You mean with his band, or with him personally?”

I stopped in my tracks. “Are you saying you had a relationship with him?”

“It wasn’t really a relationship. I had certain needs, he had certain needs, and we fulfilled them for each other.”

“What did you need?”

“A job. When I was a young girl, I wanted to be a model or a guitar player. I modeled, but I assumed that wouldn’t last forever. I mean, I’m going to turn thirty in a couple of years, can you imagine? And take a glance at this...”

Fran pointed to her forehead. I expected to view a pimple or mole or something, but her skin looked fine to me, even without makeup.

“At what?”

“Look. Closer. A wrinkle. Can you imagine?”

I couldn’t. I probably had a few myself, but I never scrutinized myself in the mirror to seek them out.

“Lucky for me, my parents had me take up guitar when I was a little girl, and when I became a teenager, I switched over to bass guitar.

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