Downstroke by Desiree Holt

Author:Desiree Holt [Holt, Desiree]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Erotica, Romance
ISBN: 1419965190
Amazon: B004XVM2OY
Barnesnoble: B004XVM2OY
Goodreads: 11041272
Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Published: 2011-04-07T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

I made sure to secure the lock on the trailer before I raced across the grass and parking lot to the arena. Chase was waiting for me by the rear door.

“What?” I stopped in front of him, pulling in breath.

“Come on in and see for yourself. It’s a mess.”

Inside I jogged up the steps to the stage. Everyone—security, musicians, roadies, Morgan, Dallas—was standing in a tight group. Mike was shouting at Randy who was shouting back at anyone who would listen. Dallas was chugging his orange juice, seemingly calm but I could see the veins bulging on his neck.

“Mike?” I nudged him. “What’s going on here?”

Mike pointed to a massive steel brace lying on the floor with several light cones and metal cups attached to it, many of them shattered. “We were getting ready to test the special pyrotechnics like we talked about. See if we needed to cancel them.”

My heart was racing. “What happened?”

“Chase sent one of our guys who knows electrical stuff up to double-check it. Just to be sure everything was set up properly.”

“And?” I prompted.

“First of all, the cups with the flash fire were upside down with covers that would open the moment the bar was even jiggled. But more than that, the metal truss was so unstable the moment we touched it, it broke free and fell to the stage.”

I looked around, forcing myself to stay calm.

“Who rigged this?” I wanted to know.

Everyone looked at Randy. He shoved his long hair back from his face and glared at everyone. Hostility rolled off him in waves.

“When I finished my part of the setup it was perfect,” he growled. “You aren’t gonna lay this shit off on me.”

“You were the lead roadie on it.” Chase held up a sheet of paper. “I had Todd write down who did what so I could follow the setup.”

“Anyone could have jimmied it,” Randy snapped back. “Almost everyone was up on that catwalk at one time or another.”

“But you were the one responsible.”

“Okay, okay,” Todd broke in, his voice edgy as usual. “Randy’s right. It gets fuckin’

busy up there, people up and down the ladder, on the catwalk. It doesn’t take long for someone to screw things up. Anyone could have done this.” Everyone was shouting at each other again, Dallas also jumping to Randy’s defense.

I looked at Mike who put two fingers in his mouth and split the air with a shrill whistle.

Everyone froze.

“All of you just shut up,” I ordered. “We have a problem here and this isn’t helping it.”

“Get off Randy’s back,” Dallas said stubbornly.

I knew the look in his eyes. Arguing would be fruitless.

“All right. For now. But no pyrotechnics tonight. Probably not for the rest of the tour.” I looked at Dallas. “You could have been burned alive or killed by the weight of the metal when it came down. I’m not budging on this.”

“Fine.” He bit off the word. “Just…leave Randy alone.”

Just because Dallas felt guilty didn’t mean I could take eyes off a suspect.

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