The Day Will Come Read online

  Behind the reporter stood the club, clearly seen now the fire trucks were gone. A few vehicles still dotted the street, the only recognizable one a police cruiser.

  I set my spoon in my bowl and watched, horrified.

  “When can we expect more details on this, Maria?” the anchor asked.

  “Officials hope to locate the victim’s family this morning, and have a cause of death by later today.”

  The anchor set his face in an expression of concern. “And what do they expect to discover?”

  “At this point, Kevin, they have not offered an explanation. But no matter the cause, the much-anticipated concert with Philadelphia’s local favorite, the Tom Copper Band, has resulted in a death. We will keep you up-to-date as details become available. Until then, this is Maria Gomez, reporting from location on South Street, in Philadelphia.”

  “Thank you, Maria. We heard also from the owner of Club Independence, Gary Mann.”

  A video of the man I had seen backstage and again at the ambulance site came on screen. His eyes were sunken above dark bags, and his voice came out husky and drained of emotion.

  “I don’t know how to talk about this,” he said. “We pride ourselves on keeping our security staff educated and well-oiled. We thought we had succeeded last night in preventing any deaths, and I’m sick at this latest discovery. Nothing like this has ever happened before, under my ownership.”

  That video segued to another, the words on the bottom of the screen denoting the Commander of the Bomb Squad as he stood behind a podium at a press conference.

  “Club Independence was as ready as it could’ve been,” he said. “Despite the tragic loss, discovered late last night, I commend Gary Mann and his staff for a job well done, and extend my thanks to the entire Philadelphia police and firefighting force.”

  A garbled question was thrown at him from the floor.

  “Yes,” he said. “There was an actual explosive device. It was designed to be detonated by remote control, but we were able to disrupt the bomb before it was used. We are fortunate to have an efficient K-9 team, which hit on the bomb directly upon entering the building.”

  The video ended and I once again watched Kevin-the-anchor’s expressive face. “In addition, the police have asked us to put out a call for a Robert Baronne, Club Independence’s office manager. He has gone missing since the concert, along with the evening’s proceeds. It has been confirmed that the body discovered in the building is not that of Baronne, and officials are treating the disappearance as a kidnapping.” Baronne’s picture flashed onto the screen, and I sat back as I recognized the mane of dark hair. Baronne had taken our tickets at the door the night before, and wished us an enjoyable evening.

  I also remembered Gary Mann, the owner, and his worries about “Bobby” when he approached the man at the ambulance. Robert Baronne—assuming he was “Bobby”—had already been missing within an hour of the evacuation. I wondered just how much money he’d been in possession of, and who would’ve known how to get to him through the security staff. If, indeed, he had been kidnapped and not taken off to some island with the money. I turned my attention back to the TV, where a phone number was flashing for those with any information.

  “So a concert ends in tragedy,” the anchor said, Baronne’s image above his left shoulder. “A death and a missing staff member. But hundreds are alive through the efforts of our safety officers. A job well done. We will inform you as more details come our way. In other news, the Phillies have added a surprising name to their line-up—”

  I hit the power button on the remote and the TV flickered off. While I’d been milling around in the parking lot last night, someone was dying, or had died. And the bomb had been real. If the threat hadn’t been called in, if it hadn’t been taken seriously, if we hadn’t been evacuated so quickly… I shook my head, not wanting to think of the devastation that could’ve happened.

  In the kitchen I dumped my soggy Cheerios down the drain. Nothing like an unidentified body and the smell of second-hand smoke to ruin your appetite.

  Queenie, my collie, met me on the front step, her nose twitching when she caught my scent.

  “Sorry, girl,” I said. “I promise to shower after milking. And they weren’t my cigarettes. Really.”

  She trotted ahead of me, obviously wanting to avoid my stench by staying upwind.

  The familiar and much more pleasant smell of the barn greeted me as I wandered down the aisles of the parlor, saying hello to the cows, who had already claimed their stalls. We had yet to let the cows outside this spring, waiting until the temperatures had reached steady warmth and I had a chance to mend the pasture fences, so they chose a stall for the winter and pretty much stuck to it. Between Queenie and me we got the girls clipped in and settled, and I switched on Temple Radio, their usual favorite classical music station.

  I was spreading out hay when headlights flashed through the windows. I listened as a door shut, and as the big dually truck reversed out the drive, then turned to greet Zach Granger, Jordan and Jermaine’s nephew and my weekend and summer farm helper. “Morning, Zach.”

  He sauntered my way, hands in his pockets. “You were at that concert last night, right?”

  “Yeah.” I stopped pulling hay when I saw the look on his face. “What is it?”

  “You know that body they found in the building?”

  A lump formed in my throat, and I suddenly knew what he was going to say. “Oh, God, no,” I said.

  He nodded. “It was that girl singer from the band. Her name was Genna.”

  Chapter Four

  “Where’s Jordan now?” I asked.

  Zach shook his head. “Home, I guess. Why?”

  He obviously had no idea that Jordan would be devastated by this news. Hell, I wouldn’t have had any idea, either, if I hadn’t seen his face the night before when he talked about her.

  “Just wondered,” I said. “Since he’s part of the band.”

  He shrugged. “Want me to get started milking?”

  “Sure. I’ll take care of the feed.”

  I watched as he casually walked off to fill a bucket with soapy water, having unknowingly delivered news more shocking than he had expected. I stood unmoving, wondering if I should call Jordan or Jermaine, or what exactly I should do. My hands were suddenly pulled forward, Pocahantas tired of waiting for her hay. I yanked the clump apart and scattered it in front of her, my thoughts miles away.

  A glance at the clock told me it was only five-thirty. Too early to call Jermaine’s house, for fear of waking Lavina, their one-year-old, but I assumed Jordan would be up.

  “I’ll be right back,” I called to Zach.

  He waved without looking up from the spigot.

  In my office I punched Jordan’s number into the phone but was rewarded only with several rings and his answering machine.

  “Jordan,” I said after the beep. “I’m so sorry to hear about…the news. Give me a call if I can do anything.” I hit the flash button and called Granger’s Welding on the very slim chance Jordan—or any of the guys—had gone to work that early, but reached their answering machine, as well. I stared at the phone, then went back out to the parlor. I stood at Zach’s elbow while he ran the wet cloth over Cinderella’s udder.

  “They know anything else about how Genna died?” I asked him.

  He glanced up. “Not that they told me. I guess she was trampled, or something. You know, everybody trying to get out.”

  I thought back to the evening, with its chaos and panic. The closest I’d seen to trampling was the bottleneck at the top of the stairs when Norm’s wheelchair got stuck, and the guy trying to climb over the people next to me. Besides, wouldn’t the band have had a close exit backstage?

  “Nothing else?” I asked.

  Zach stood up and skirted around me to drop the cloth in the bucket. “I’m telling you, I don’t know much. Just that she’s dead. Why?”

  I looked at him, th
inking if his folks didn’t tell him about Jordan’s relationship with Genna, I shouldn’t, either. Maybe his parents didn’t even know. And maybe I was making something out of nothing.

  “Just curious. Since I was there, you know.”

  He looked at me like he wanted to say, “Whatever,” but was smart enough not to. I went back to feeding the herd, and he grabbed the milker to stick it on Cinderella’s teats.

  By the time we’d finished milking and cleaned the stalls I was really feeling the late night and the strain of knowing about Genna.

  “Thanks, Zach,” I said, smothering a yawn. “I’ll get your paycheck to you by Wednesday.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  We walked outside, where I stretched my back and did some neck rolls. “Want to come in and get a bit of breakfast while you wait for your mom?”

  He looked at me. “You know, thanks. But I think I’ll wait.”

  “My food not good enough for you?”

  “It’s not that.” He grinned. “It’s just…you really stink.”

  I made a face and swatted his shoulder before leaving him laughing on the lawn with Queenie.

  Inside, I took off my boots and made sure I wouldn’t be dragging any straw or cow crap through the house on my clothes. In the old days, before I had roommates, I would’ve just stripped at the washer. Modesty definitely had its drawbacks, no matter how necessary it was. Ever since Lucy and Tess had moved in the summer before, I’d been revamping my behavior. A bit, anyway. In a couple of weeks I could go back to my old ways. Lucy and Lenny would soon be off on their honeymoon, and Tess would be hanging with me for one last week, since she still had school. Then they would both move to Lenny’s townhome in Perkasie. I’d be alone again in my creaky old farmhouse, except for those weekends Nick came up from Virginia or I could get away to Harrisonburg.

  “Wow, that smells great,” I said, peering in the kitchen door. I was surprised my stomach was making hungry noises, after hearing the news about Genna. “Baked oatmeal?”

  Lucy looked up from the counter, where she was slicing strawberries into a bowl. Her hair, wet from the shower, had made a semi-circle of wetness on the collar of her shirt. “Thought we could all use a little sustenance after last night.” She stopped slicing and searched my face. “What is it?”

  I leaned against the doorjamb and crossed my arms, sticking my hands in my armpits. “They found a body in the club last night.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I thought they got everybody out.”

  “I did, too.”

  “Who was it?”

  I pinched my lips together. “Remember the female singer in the band?”

  “The one Jordan was looking for?”

  I nodded. “Genna.”

  Lucy’s eyes filled. “Oh no. What happened?”

  “Nobody knows. Zach told me they think she was trampled, but nobody said anything about that on the news, and the cops would’ve found a pile-up right away.”

  She stared at me. “You think it was something else?”

  “It must’ve been. Exactly what, I don’t know.”

  We stood there, looking at each other, until I changed position and my smell wafted up to me, reminding me how rank I was.

  “I have time for a shower before eating?” I asked. “Please?”

  “I would appreciate it. The oatmeal needs a few more minutes in the oven, anyway.”

  I peeked into the front room to see Nick still comatose. I tiptoed over to make sure he was breathing, and when I assured myself he was, went upstairs to the bathroom. Tess was just coming out, her hair disheveled and her princess nightgown wrinkled.

  “Hey, Punkin,” I said.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Eww. You stink.”

  Ah, the honesty of a nine-year-old.

  Twenty minutes later I smelled like Lever 2000, not trusting the girly stuff I’d received as a birthday present to cut through the nastiness. I washed my hair twice and was keeping my fingers crossed that it did the trick.

  In my bedroom, I ripped the sheets off the bed, along with the mattress pad and pillowcases, and tried not let them touch my clothes on the way downstairs. By the time I’d stuffed them into the washing machine and started the load, I was hearing Nick’s voice in the kitchen.

  “Nick stink, too?” I asked Tess when I entered the room.

  “Yuck,” she replied.

  Nick laughed. “All right, I get the hint. I’ll take my turn now.”

  He pushed himself up from the table, and I gave him the once over. His color had returned somewhat, but his eyes were still criss-crossed with red.

  “How’re you feeling?” I asked.

  “A bit better, I guess.”

  “You still heading home today?”

  “Yeah. Once I get breakfast.”

  “You’ll be all right to drive?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I let it go.

  On his way past me, he stopped and spoke quietly. “Lucy told me about the singer. Jordan going to be okay?”

  “So you saw it, too?”

  “What? That he loves her?”

  I nodded. “And I’m pretty sure it was mutual.”

  He sighed. “I thought so, too. Poor guy.”

  He left then, and I sat down to eat. No matter how bad I felt for Jordan, I still got a good helping down. I had to take the cooking while Lucy was around.

  After breakfast Lucy headed out for her chores. I stuck around and kept Nick company while he ate his oatmeal.

  “I called home and had Mom get me a doctor’s appointment,” he said.

  I looked at him. “You think you caught a virus somewhere?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I have no idea.” He looked at his hand, opening and closing his fingers. “I just feel so…weird.”

  “You’ll let me know what you find out?”

  “Of course.”

  “And you’re sure you’ll be all right driving?”

  He covered my hand with his. “Like I said, I’ll be fine.”

  I remembered how Jordan looked when he couldn’t find Genna the night before. The nervousness. I felt it now, and I wasn’t sure why.

  I pulled my hand out from under Nick’s and walked over to the window. Queenie and Tess were in the side yard playing tug-of-war with an old sock, Queenie dragging the girl in circles. I watched as they played, and Nick brought his empty bowl over to the counter. He put his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my head, watching the dog and girl.

  Lucy walked past with a shovel and garden rake over her shoulder, laughing and calling out something to her daughter. Queenie, sensing something new, let go of the sock to follow Lucy. Tess landed on her bottom with a thump and looked at the sock with confusion. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression on her face, and Nick laughed softly in my ear.

  “I’m gonna brush my teeth and head out,” he said.

  I turned around, and he let his hands slide with me, keeping me within his arms. “You’ll be back for the wedding?” I asked.

  “The rehearsal, actually. Lucy invited me to the lunch, and I figured since I have a free place to stay…”

  I raised my eyebrows. “She’s putting you up?”

  “Yeah. In some old farmhouse, with a cranky farmer.”

  “Cranky? Who’re you calling cranky?”

  He leaned in to kiss me and I enjoyed it for a few moments until he broke away.

  “You going to check on Jordan today?” he asked.

  “As soon as you’re gone. I wonder if his family has any idea that they were…whatever they were.”

  “He certainly didn’t tell us.”

  “Huh-uh. And I don’t know if his family’s even met the members of the band.”

  He gently slapped my hips. “You’ll take care of him.”

  “We’ll see if he wants taking care of.”

  Nick went upstairs to
get his stuff together, and I opened the hall closet to pull out my leather chaps. I’d been riding lots of times already that spring, but not yet without the chaps. That spring breeze could cut through jeans in a heartbeat. My leather jacket, which I’d left on the porch, still stank to high heaven, so I pulled out my denim one and hoped it would do the trick. With the added layer of my leather vest I should be okay.

  “Well, I’m off,” Nick said. He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and dangled his truck keys in the other hand.

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  After a hug from Tess, a lick—or three or four—from Queenie, and a waved good-bye from Lucy, Nick settled in the driver’s seat of his Ranger.

  “You’ll call?” I said.

  “I’ll call.”

  “All right.”

  “I love you,” he said.

  “Love you, too.”

  One more kiss and he was down the driveway and off south to Virginia. I stared after him, hoping the empty feeling in my stomach was more about Genna than whatever was going on with Nick.

  Carrying my chaps and jacket, I walked through the dry grass to the garden plot, where Lucy knelt in the tilled garden, planting green beans.

  She glanced up. “You going somewhere?”

  “To check on Jordan.”

  She sat back on her heels. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

  “Will do. You’ll be here for the milk truck?”

  “No problem.”

  “Thanks.” I began walking away.

  “Stella?”

  I turned back. “Yeah?”

  “You’ll be home in time for our appointment?”

  “What?”

  Her eyelids lowered, and I wondered what I’d done to deserve a glare like that.

  Then I remembered.

  We had an appointment at the bridal shop. I was going to be Lucy’s maid of honor in a week, and we still didn’t know what I was wearing. I’d put it off for so long Lucy was starting to worry I’d show up wearing my newest jeans and cleanest T-shirt. In fact, I’d almost asked if that would be an option.