Grits in the Graveyard by J L Collins

Author:J L Collins [Collins, J L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-26T16:00:00+00:00

12

Radio Silent

If there was one thing I liked about the hardware store, it was the smell of the wood and sawdust inside.

I pulled out my supply list made by Franklin, who was back at my house bright and early to get started on the wiring upstairs. With the inspector coming at the end of the week, I wanted to make sure I had at least that done.

The big cart squeaked as I pushed it down the right aisle, following the hundreds of things loaded up on each side until I found what I needed.

My pants buzzed. The moment the phone rang in my pocket I picked it up, recognizing the ringtone immediately. Corinne was a huge fan of jazz, so I’d picked one that suited her well.

“Darling! How are you?” I sang into the phone, dropping the bronzed light switch plates down into the cart. I didn’t realize how much I missed her until her name flashed across my screen.

She chuckled into the phone. “It’s been nuts here, but I’m sure you already know that.”

I winced. “That bad, huh?”

“They moved me to the soundstage temporarily. Until they find a new headliner, I guess. I’ve heard whispers about them getting in touch with a few different people. But you know how long those contracts can take.”

“Very true.”

“Daria Morrigan may or may not have been on the list of names.”

I groaned. Daria Morrigan had been clamoring for her own show since I first landed the gig at the MGM Grand. I appealed to her manager to see if she wanted to look into a collaborative project together, but Daria shot it down. She was no fan of mine.

“And what about Preston? Is he still lingering around?”

“If by lingering around you mean bugging me over your whereabouts, then yes. He still doesn’t believe that I don’t know where you are.”

I didn’t dare check my emails. My texts from him had finally started easing up which only meant that he had more formal things to say to me… and that only meant one thing—he was through working as my manager.

Most people in my situation would be gobsmackingly worried over the whole thing. But I was quite the opposite, funny enough. Between worrying over the house renovation, Sheriff Paine being on my tail, and a killer on the loose, the last thing I was thinking about was how everyone back in Vegas was doing with my sudden disappearance.

Truth be told, I felt a little guilty about it.

“That man knows better than to try to find me when I don’t want to be found. I made that plain as day to him the last time we spoke over the phone,” I explained, pushing the cart down the next aisle.

There was a pause, and then, “Birdie. Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” Did I really sound so melancholy?

“I don’t know. You leave without telling me goodbye, then I have to find out from Preston that you’ve not only broken your contract, but you’ve gone radio silent on us.

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